Page 15 of Made to Sin

The urge to point my finger at his chest was tempting, but the boss didn’t look like the type to let that disrespect go. I settled for burning holes along his long, black tie.

“You sure? I learned such aspecialfact about you.”

“What’s so special about donating?”

That wasn’t what he was talking about, and we both knew it.

The corner of his lips tipped up. “Such a good liar.”

“I. Don’t. Know. What. You. Are. Talking. About,” I repeated, emphasizing each word with vehemence.

“Did he hit you after that night?”

Though he asked nonchalantly, black clouds ruptured through his eyes, encasing the gray irises in a sea of black. He was as apathetic as ever, but a gut feeling told me there was a storm of emotions under the stoicism.

“My husband doesn’t hit me,” I lied, sick of the topic.

“I didn’t say who.”

“You implied it.”

He shrugged. “You made the connection rather easy.”

I hated how he pried open whatever he wanted with little regard for how it made the people around him feel.

Any logical rationale left my head at his indifference, leaving behind childish insults. “You’re sick,” I spat.

“How many times, Katarina?”

I scoffed. “Zero. Zilch. Nada. None. How many languages do you need me to repeat it in for it to go through your thick skull?”

Hetskedat my poor attempt and tilted my chin up so that Ilooked directly into his eyes. They were a nefarious shade of black, promising retribution. “I thought you were stronger than to let some spineless man walk all over you.”

I clenched my jaw and glared at him in a pathetic attempt to do anything while his stern grip held me in place. His words shot a bullseye at my heart, mainly because I wished they were true. But no, I was as weak as he made me sound. I was a horrible liar who couldn’t defend myself against Marco’s hands.

“And I thought you cared about the charity for a second. Turns out, you work with whoever gives you profit. Guess we were both wrong.”

“You think this alliance gives me anything?”

“I don’t care about what your business is with my husband. Just don’t involve me in it.”

He stared at me for a lingering second, almost disappointed, and released my chin with a rough chuckle. His white teeth glimmered when he laughed, but instead of making him look like a friendly samaritan, the canine’s glint added to his devilish look. For crying out loud, even his name was similar to Lucifer's. There would be no doubt in my mind if he confessed he was Satan.

“I’ll let you know when I want my favor.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” I stubbornly refuted.

His eyes lit with dry amusement. “Don’t waste your breath, sweetheart.”

Then, he walked away from me without as much as a goodbye.

My body slumped against the wall for a breather, catching my brain up with the conversation. I groaned at the thought of owing this man anything. What if he wanted me to deal drugs, and I got caught? There goes the rest of my youth in prison.

Nope, not going to let myself stress over this. If there was one thing I excelled in, it was pretending nothing happened. I strutted into the classical-styled living room and sat on the rest of the armchair Marco was occupying.

“My love,” Marco gritted. “Are you done getting ready?”

I nodded. After spending over half an hour in the tub, I didn’t dwell on anything else. My hair was left in its messy updo, and I wore no makeup aside from a coat of pink lipstick. Marco was surely going to yell at me when the guests left, both for taking so long and for not looking attractive enough.

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