Page 4 of Make Me A Sinner
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I suddenly stop, not because the vase isn't there anymore, but because a box lying next to it on the display shelf catches my eye. The pounding in my chest—that just started to relax after the phantom scent—is back, louder than ever. My ears buzz with it, and there’s a nervous twitch in my hands as they curl into fists. I'm almost afraid to get closer—because I've seen that box before.
I glance around, nervous, trying to reassure myself I'm still alone in the house. For a second, I actually consider going for a knife—but I remember all too well what happened the last time I held one.
Calm yourself down, Serena.
I whisper, realizing I’m now officially talking to myself. I’m really losing it. But no matter how much I want to believe this is another hallucination, the box feels too real.
I pick it up, and the gold letters, Smith and Sons, are shining brightly on the lid. The name of the pawnshop where I left the earrings.
A cold shiver rips down my spine. And I don't even know how I'm still standing and not fainting on the floor, especially when I open the box and see my star earrings inside.
For a second, I come up with some weak excuse that maybe the pawn-shop made a mistake and sent me the earrings before I completed the full payment. But they don’t have the address and even if they had, the courier would’ve rung the bell—wouldn’t have just left them sitting in the damn house.
No. Thecourieris someone I know.
Set!
three
-Set-
Betrayal... It didn't feel like simple betrayal. I've been betrayed before and managed to deal with it. But this? This is something far more dangerous.
It feels like something was ripped out of my chest. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was my soul—except I don't think I have one anymore.
The night of the heist, I went back into the museum for Serena. I risked my fucking freedom and everything I've built to save her—just to get her back to me.
Maybe I could’ve dodged jail even if I got arrested. I have very skilled lawyers and enough political support to buy my way out. But if anyone linked me directly to the heist, staying in Vegas would’ve been impossible. I would’ve had to relocate and let everything I’ve built turn to ash, just because I trusted her.
I remember the moment I entered the museum like it was a second ago. At first, I thought she was hiding. I wanted to believe that because the alternative would be inconceivable.
Maybe she didn’t have time to get out—maybe she hid somewhere.I knew better than to lie to myself, but I did it anyway just to keep a flicker of hope alive in the darkness creeping through my mind. Because that's what followed with every new room I searched—until I opened a door that cleared everything up. A woman was tied down in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but her underwear and duct tape over her mouth.
I peeled the tape off, to get to the bottom of things, just to confirm what I already suspected—the woman was a cop, minus the uniform. Serena must’ve walked right past me.
I freed the cop and got out before anyone got the chance to ask questions. By then, Serena had already escaped, probably straight through the front door. I had to give it to her. She was bold and clever—maybe the result of my creation. Maybe I was the one who gave her that final push she needed to take control of her life. But she missed one thing—the most important one—she belonged to me. I might let her call the shots in everything else, but I’d never let her walk away from me.
I stormed out of the building, hoping she hadn't made it out of Vegas yet. I even turned the whole damn city upside down for a week, looking for her. Every rental, every hotel, every shitty motel, even the night bars that sometimes put staff up on-site.
She was nowhere to be found. And that turned me into a fucking time bomb. I'd become uncontrollable, too unstable for my own good, sending me on a fucking killing spree.
I single-handedly wiped the town of every lowlife who was ever on my watchlist. They would’ve needed to go eventually, but killing them myself only fed the dark void growing inside me. I lost a piece of my soul with every kill. This was my greatest curse, and with Serena gone, I was on a path to self-destruction—or worse.
I've hired people and chased every possible lead to find her, but it was like the earth opened and swallowed her whole—until the day one of my men finally came through. He’d found the pair of star earrings, from the set I'd given her, in a pawnshop in California. He tracked down the seller using the serial number and the shop owner’s help.
I ran into some reticence getting them back—and receiving information I wanted. So yeah, I might’ve broken a few arms in the process. The owner got off easy, considering what I usually do to people who defy me. But I was in too much of a hurry for proper torture, especially since just an hour before I showed up, he’d gotten a money transfer to hold the earrings for another month.
Serena must’ve gotten attached to them and planned on keeping them. Or maybe, knowing their real value, she was planning to flip them for a higher price as soon as she got them out. I didn’t give a damn, I just cared about finding her.
