Page 11 of Sins of Bliss

An intense need to begin explaining myself and begging for his forgiveness overpowers my thoughts, but I push them aside.

Everything I’m doing is to keep him safe.

“Do you know the risk you’ve taken to be here?” he asks, reaching to pull me toward him again.

He has no idea of the actual risk I’ve taken. And I know the consequences.

Resting my head on his chest, more tears escape. “You’ve always been worth any risk, Sly.”

It’s the truth, and I should have been more forthcoming with that truth before it was too late.

He hugs me tighter, his mouth coming to rest against my head as he presses his lips to me in a long kiss. Neither of us makes any move to part, but a few moments later, the soft click of the door closing catches my attention.

Opening my eyes, I see that the man and woman who were in the room are now gone.

“Who were they?” I ask softly, wondering about the people he has obviously grown close to since he’s been living here.

They looked like they were a couple, but there was also a look of something more in the eyes of the woman as she watched me come into the room.

I recognized her look. It was a look of possession. Of protectiveness. I can’t help but wonder if she cares for Sly in the way that I do.

A deep sigh elevates his chest. “There are many things we must discuss, piccola ladra. But first, it is important to me to know why you are here.”

I rear back and look at him, feeling as though he’s slapped me. So many thoughts collide in my mind—has he been with her? Moved on? Does he hate me?

Closing my eyes, I remind myself he thinks I didn’t show up that day. He thinks I didn’t care about him—that Idon’tcare about him. He has no idea what’s been going on.

But the words escape me, and the best I can manage is, “I couldn’tnotbe here, Sly. You were shot.”

With a clipped tone, he says, “How did you even hear about it?”

I’ve never felt more distant from him than I do now. Even through the time we’ve been apart, I’ve held onto the glimmer of hope that one day, things could be different.

Although, the way he’s guarding himself right now makes me think maybe that ship has sailed.

“The housekeepers talk.” My voice cracks, barely above a whisper, as my eyes fill with tears once again. “Of course I’d be here.”

Looking down at my hands, I gently pick at my cuticles as I wait for him to say something. I’m not able to look him in the eye, suddenly feeling like he is about to reject me being here.

He’d have every right to after thinking for so long that I don’t love him.

What am I supposed to say? How do I tell him that the reason I’ve stayed away is because of the threat August holds over his head?

So I say the only thing I can say. The one thing I hope he’ll believe when he looks into my eyes and hopefully sees the truth. “I don’t love him, Sly.”

His eyes darken with my words, his hand curling into a fist on his lap. The movement makes me flinch. Thoughts of August flicker in my mind—of him using his fists on me, but only in places that are easily hidden.

Sly sees my reaction and narrows his eyes, brows furrowing in confusion as he lets his hands go slack.

I shouldn’t have reacted. If anyone can see through my mask of perfection, it’s Sly.

“Then why is his ring on your finger?”

“It’s complicated, Sly. My family?—”

“You are a grown woman, piccola ladra. Free to make your own choices. Your family does not own you.”

No, but August does.

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