Page 92 of Make Me A Sinner
The Byzantine elegant mudbrick walls feature intricate geometric carvings, while arched courtyards spill over with date palms and jasmine. Inside, cool marble floors lead to long halls lit by narrow windows and bronze lanterns.
A central fountain echoes through quiet chambers where silk drapes and carved wooden screens shield my private world from the city’s pulse beyond. Its sandstone walls are etched with sacred hieroglyphs and guarded by towering statues of Horus and Anubis.
Golden columns glint beneath the sun, framing a large courtyard with a lotus-filled pool, while inside, stretch cool alabaster floors.
I own more antiques than the Cairo museum. Not that anyone knows about them. The people taking care of the property are very discreet and very well-paid to stay that way.
Serena’s eyes light up with every new arcade, every echoing corner, and every new room she explores feels like a treasure chest. She can feel the magic of the place, and it’s surprisingly nice sharing it with someone else, basking in each of her reactions. The way her fingers brush the carvings, the awe in her voice as she discovers pieces of my past—it makes this place feel complete for the first time. It makes me feel complete.
I’ve never brought anyone else here except for my family. Now, she’s also my family, even if I’m yet to take the necessary steps to make things official—at least my version of it.
In fact, that’s why I brought her here today.
“Wow, this looks like the palace from Aladdin,” she chuckles in awe, her eyes sweeping across the walls, unable to stop admiring the architecture and taking it all in.
“Just wait till we get to the top,” I guide her up the stairs to the second floor, which has a direct view of the pyramids.
Fuck, how I’ve missed this place.
My staff has already set up drinks and food there. Something like an indoor picnic. Not that I’m good at this kind of thing. But I think I could become good at anything for her.
“Set, this is amazing,” she utters, running toward the open balcony. Actually, the whole floor is open, and they only bring furniture here when I come around. Not that we need a lot of furniture. Just a few low tables stacked with Egyptian delicacies, layered rugs, and enough pillows to make the whole place feel half sacred, half indecent.
Just the way I like it.
We have dinner right there on the floor, and after we watch the light show dance across the pyramids. They’re a little tootouristy and theatrical for my taste. But not even that can make me love it any less.
Serena settles into my arms—the only place where she belongs—taking in the view.
“After I’m done with Vegas, maybe we could stay here for a while. I could talk to my father about assigning me to Cairo if it’s available.” No one can stay in a place forever. People would get suspicious, and I haven’t been in Egypt for a long while.
“It’ll be a while before you’ll be done with Vegas,” she says from between my arms, her head resting back on my chest. “I just hope I’ll still be around when that happens.”
“Didn’t realize you were going somewhere,again.” I mutter, making sure she remembers her mistake. It’s in my nature to do that, and it’s not something I’ve let slide yet. She’s got a lot of making up to do before I even think about it.
“No, not going anywhere,” she trails off, confirming my suspicions. The reason she’s been acting so strangely lately is so simple and so complicated. Immortality.
“Ya’amar,” I whisper, and I feel her jolt in my arms. It’s the first time I’ve called her that, since she ran off to Italy. “I feel you’ve been avoiding a specific question. And it’s time you ask it.”
She suddenly turns to face me, pain reflected in her beautiful blue eyes.
“What exactly do you imagine is going to happen to us?” I ask, thrown off that she’d ever think I wouldn’t go to hell and back just to keep her to be mine for eternity.
Because that’s exactly what I’ll do if necessary.
“You’re going to… stay the same… watch me grow old and…” She doesn’t continue because the words are too painful. Not the thought of death, but the thought of being without me. Which, somehow, only makes me laugh.
“If that’s what’s eating you, why didn’t you just say something before now?” I ask, my tone unreadable, not revealing my intentions just yet.
“Would you have let me go if I did?” She shoots back, pissing the hell out of me.
“I won’t let you go,” I growl. “Not in this life, not in the next. Not even if the end of time comes. We’ll be together beyond that.” I make a promise that not even the devil himself could make me break.
She lays her head against my chest like she’s humoring me—like I’m fucking hallucinating or something.
“Ya’amar,” I murmur, brushing my hand through her hair, “I’m not promising to sit beside you as you wither away. I can’t have that.”
She lifts her head to look at me.
