Page 16 of Make Me A Sinner
It feels a little strange going back to my old wardrobe, seeing a part of myself I'd been missing—even though it wasn’t really mine to begin with. Still, I was getting sick and tired, constantly feeling like I missed this place.
I throw on a pair of leggings, a different oversized shirt, and a bra. Set didn't mention any kind of plans for today, so I’m about to see what’s on TV because if I don't keep myself busy, I’ll end up saying something stupid sooner or later.
But just as I’m heading back to the living room, I realize Set has company.
As I walk down the hallway, I catch sight of the man visiting. I don't get close, but there’s something about him that’s strangely familiar.
Is he related to Set?
His body posture, height, and defined muscles make the two almost impossible to tell apart, except for the hair color. His face is strikingly handsome, too—chiseled jaw, sharp nose, platinum blond hair swept back, though messier than Set’s.
The closer I get, the more certain I am that they’re probably brothers. The man in front of me seems even more dangerous thanmy mobster—which honestly should be a record. His eyes aren't even slightly calm. They’re straight damn mad, like he’s as unpredictable as a snake. That alone makes me pivot back to the bedroom. I don't get far though before I hear my name. But it isn't someone calling me. The two are talking about me, and judging by the edge in Set's voice, he’snotpleased.
ten
-Set-
-a few minutes earlier-
I could pat myself on the back for how well I’ve handled the first hours of being back in the penthouse with Serena. I hope to keep this up, maybe even learn to control my reactions when I'm around her. I’ve never had to control myself before, and I seem to be turning into a ticking time bomb every time she so much as breathes wrong—that used to be like every five minutes, from what I can remember. But she seems more docile now. The time apart must’ve done her some good, probably making her realize there's no turning back once you've been claimed by the devil.
Even if we just had something to eat, I’m considering taking her to a restaurant for dinner. She might be on probation for now, but I don't plan on keeping her locked up in the house. Especially since that would mean locking myself in, and I don't do well caged for long.
Not that we actually make it to dinner. Something unexpected ruins my plans. A loud knock on the door that throws me completely off and changes the whole dynamic of the evening.
Where the fuck are my guards?
I grab my gun and head toward the door. Something feels off. No one comes up here.
I open it with extra care, just to realize the reason why none of my guards announced someone—my brother Whiro is here,unannounced. No guard dares to even go near him, no sane man would.
This pretty much one of the worst things that could have happened. Not because I don't enjoy him coming to visit. It’s because it isn't like him to pay visits, unless something’s seriously wrong.
"You should train your boys better," he says, stepping inside, and I’m already convinced he beat the shit out of my guards.
"Show-off," I mutter, already rolling my eyes at having to find new employees. But that’s the least of my worries for now, and I know it. "It’s been a while."
"Well, it's not like anyone in our family gathers to celebrate Christmas. You know, but I was thinking we could just make Halloween our holiday. It's more suited," he shrugs, that usual madness flickering behind his words like it’s nothing.
Whiro’s different from me and the rest of my brothers. We all had our empires to build, borders to guard, and balances to keep, while he never had any of those problems. He’s too unstable, even for Father to handle. So, after enough failed attempts, our Old Man finally gave up and left him alone to do whatever the hell he wanted.
Whiro does serve his purpose, though. He does the things no one else can. We might be predators by nature, but he's the apex. I swear he can hear a deer all the way from Vegas to Alaska, no one stands a real chance against him. He kills for fun, but usually needs a target—something to aim the madness at. That's why he's a sort of mercenary—the most skilled one there is. And that brings me to the question I really don’t want to ask. "How bad isit?" I don't know what or where it happened, but I haven't seen him in over five years. This can’t be anything but bad news.
We don't need to measure time to keep our bond. Years are irrelevant when you're facing eternity. But I know he doesn’t do home visits just because he missed me.
"Why do you always assume I bring bad news?" He laughs, yet doesn't deny it.
I shrug. "Old habits die hard."
"It's not that bad. More like trying to solve a riddle… and having innocent fun."
"Your idea of innocent fun terrifies even me. Who’s in trouble?" I ask, since I assume he came here for backup.
But it seems I’m wrong. It’s not backup that he’s looking for. "I'm looking at him."
"Me?" I ask, confusion taking hold of my voice. Things have been quiet around, especially after the little killing spree I went on when Serena left. I don’t have many enemies still breathing.
I see him lighting himself a cigarette. Of course, without even asking permission to smoke in my house. But then again, he's never been the kind of guy who asks for permission. "Indirectly," he says, taking his first drag.
