Page 92 of Sinner's Perdition

“This is my quiet place.”

“One you share with Slith, your lovely pet?”

I still hate what he did, and a shiver runs down my spine, but deep down, I know he would never harm me. It’s strange how this man plays and distorts everything in me.

Inside the spacious house, notes of grays and light blues are the main theme, decorated with a modern touch. My eyes sweep over the shiny floor and the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I still don’t have clothes.”

He goes to the car and takes a bag from the trunk. I smile because I am happy. It’s easier to give in when it’s just the two of us—no guards, or his friends, or our families reminding me constantly of the life we lead.

This man will forever be my train station, the one I will always remember wanting to stay in, my final destination, but life carried me away.

He lifts my chin. “Stop going there.”

“You shouldn’t know me this well.”

“Accept this, us, and especially me . . . because I won’t give you an alternative, and there isn’t one anyway,cara.”

Don’t I know this? He could have put absolutely no effort, just taken me as a token of his victory. Instead, here he is, trying. There’s this nagging thought, though. When will he stop trying and snap, proving to me, he’s just like my father? Freedom is better than getting my hopes smashed.

“I want to swim.”

He nods but not before sighing. But I can’t talk to him about this, afraid I might give something away. I wouldn’t put it past him to lock me in his penthouse and fuck me into submission. I walk into the sleek and clean kitchen, the windows offering the same breathtaking sea view.

“Still that fucking freedom? Huh,cara? You’re mine, only mine, for a lifetime.”

I turn to him and anger blazes through me.

“There she is again. Be angry, fight me, but you’re mine. End of discussion.”

“Don’t delude yourself. I’ve wanted my freedom longer than I wanted you.”

My hand flies to my mouth, and he smiles that smug smile. This man and his uncanny ability to coerce the truth out of me.

He slaps a hand on the marble counter. “Forget that fucking freedom. I can give you the world,cara. The damn world.”

“And I would have appreciated it, if the world was what I wanted.”

He shakes his head and his phone rings. He picks it up and carries the bag upstairs, unpacking. I guess we’re staying for the weekend.

I change into a two-piece swimsuit and gather my hair into a bun. Cato is still on the phone when I slip outside. I run toward the water. The waves hit my face, and I embrace it. No one is around me, and I bask in this feeling of freedom. Not even he can compete with this.

Back on the shore, my feet thread through the soft sand, water dripping from my body. I tilt my head to the house and back to the sea.

Why isn’t he coming out?

I thought you enjoyed being free and solo. Back off!

I lay out a towel and take in the sun. With no way of relaxing, I stride back into the house and call his name. Nothing. I search in every room for him, only to gaze outside and realize the car is gone.

He didn’t leave me alone, did he? He wouldn’t do that. When I am absolutely sure he is gone, I sink my ass in a chair, steaming. I breathe in and out, trying to calm the flurry of anger. I grab my phone and call him. It rings three times before he answers, while I stew in this tortured concoction of anger and agony.

“Where are you?” I snarl when he finally picks up.

“On the way back to the city.”

The nonchalance in his voice has me wanting to commit murder.

---