Page 3 of Merciless Sinner

I remember the first time we met, the first time I knew she had feelings for me, and the first time I kissed her and shouldn’t have.

She was always forbidden to me.

First because her brother. Cillian was one of my best friends, and she was his little sister, younger than me by five years. But even when we got older and it would have been okay for me to be with her, she became forbidden to me because of the feud between our families. That never stopped me.

I was the man to take her virginity and the first to hear her cries of ecstasy when her body was filled with the pleasure I gave her.

I was her first and her only. Until I fucked things up and led us to this.

This version of us where we’re little more than strangers. Even though I thought I was doing the right thing, living in a world where she might not know who I am is a curse I deserve.

My gaze is intense enough for that sixth sense most people talk about when they sense someone is watching to kick in, but she's so focused on what she's doing that she doesn’t notice anything.

Judging from the way she rushed in, my guess is she really was late for work.

Work in a coffee shop.

She must truly have forgotten who she truly is if she thinks she has to work here or worry about being late for work.

Olivia O’Ridian is an Irish mafia princess and the heiress to her father’s gold mine. Like mine, her family is one of the richest in this world. Meaning she’s worth billions.

The woman I’m observing has no inkling of wealth and doesn’t look like a person who’s running from the past either. Or trouble.

Maybe she doesn’t know that either, or that her parents disappeared the same time she did.

I keep my gaze trained on her as she makes her way to an older couple on the other side of the room. A bright smile fills her beautiful, beautiful face I’ve missed so damn much it hurts.

She takes their order, then several more from the people at the nearby tables.

When she’s finished, she walks back toward the counter to give the waitress behind it the orders and sets off for the section with the condiments and syrups.

She turns to pick something up, but at that moment, our eyes lock and she sees me.Reallysees me.

Those piercing eyes of hers take me in, and the flawless, pale skin of her cheeks warm to a soft rose color that looks striking against her white-blonde hair and incandescent beauty.

We stare at each other for a few long heartbeats, and I feel she must for sure recognize me. I expect something to click and any moment now, she’ll run toward me and throw her arms around me like she used to and kiss me.

I gear myself up to feel her against me again, but she seems to catch herself for staring and instead offers me a kind, shy smile before looking away.

Just as she’s about to walk off, she accidentally bumps into the tray with the condiments and little sachets of sugar, salt, and pepper, sending them all to the floor.

She kneels down and starts picking them up, but I see the opening I need to speak to her.

I push to my feet, shoving the anxiety twisting my stomach to the back of beyond. When I think of how far I've come to find my girl, nothing else matters.

She doesn't see me until I crouch and gather up a few of the sugar sachets. When she looks at me, her eyes lock with mine again.

As I stare back at her, hardly believing I found her. I hope being closer might make her recognize me. But it doesn’t.

She’s looking at me as if she doesn’t know me. The gaze of interest is simply the look of desire I receive from most women who are attracted to me.

“Thank you so much,” she says, hitting me with that shy smile again as she speaks in that soft, dulcet tone I’ve always loved. “I’m an utter klutz when I’m rushing around, but I swear I’m not always so clumsy.”

When people talk about feeling like their heart sinks, I thought it was utter bullshit, until now. My fucking heart is literally plummeting through the earth and going down, down, down the longer I realize she doesn’t know me.

Billy, one of my guards, told me she did the same with him when he approached her days ago. She’s known him her whole life, but she didn’t recognize him either. She also thought he was mistaken when he called her Olivia. Apparently, she’s going by the name of Alice.

“It’s Monday.” I oblige her, searching my mind for words when I realize I haven’t said anything. “Most people are like that on Mondays, so I don’t think you’re clumsy.”

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