Page 51 of Make Me A Sinner
There’s only a dull ache now and a strange warmth—like the flesh is pulsing to readjust the change. But it’s only been a second, he can’t be done already.
“You don’t get to kiss me after torturing me,” I spit back, shoving him off. Surprisingly, it works, and he backs down, giving me just enough space so I can get up from the couch.
The sudden movement quickly reflects to my core, and yeah, I probably should’ve sat back down. But the pain only makes me put distance between me and Set. And I do the only thing I can think—I grab Eight-Ball and storm off toward the bedroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he calls out, slight amusement in his tone.
And I don’t wait to strike back. “To bed. Alone.” I stalk past his bedroom and head straight for mine.
If I’m hurting, he should be, too.
twenty-five
-Serena-
Surprisingly, Set didn’t follow me. I think he knew I’d had enough for the night. And I suspect I can keep playing this card for longer, especially since I’m done letting him always have his way. I’ve done the failed relationship thing before, and it was all because I got off on the wrong foot. I’ve already stumbled out of the gate with Set too, but I don’t think it’s too late to flip the script.
He said he wanted me stronger. Well, I’m starting with him.
Damn I just called this arelationshipagain. My body shudders at the thought, but so does my heart. I wish I could stop doing that. But it’s already too late.
I head to the bathroom since I stormed out of the living room without giving Set the chance to check his masterpiece. I’m surprised he didn’t come after me, but he knows I need some space now, especially now that I’m officially his lifetime prisoner. I’m starting to think this might be worse than an engagement ring. Maybe worse than even a wedding ring.
I grab some sterile bandages from the bathroom drawer, and head to the full-length mirror back in my room so I can see what’s really there. A vertical bar pierces through my flesh, but it’s nearly invisible now, leaving just the two round diamonds on display.
I gently clean the blood. Surprisingly, there’s a lot less than I expected, and the pain isn’t that unbearable either, but it is a constant reminder thathe’sthere. I take another look in the mirror and I kind of like what I see. It’s like my pussy’s got style now. It’s definitely high value, thanks to the diamonds. This little bird looks like a work of art... And yeah, I’m probably mentally deranged by now.
I spent the night in my room. I’m not half as mad as I pretend to be. But he doesn’t have to know that yet. At least he knows better than to come knocking. In fact, he seems to be on his best behavior and doesn’t bother me until the next day when we meet in the kitchen.
He made coffee and breakfast—like that’s gonna win me over.
He’s got his work cut out for him, and by the look on his face, he knows it. But there’s something that wasn’t there before—a large smile is back on his lips. A real one. And I haven’t seen a genuine one since I got back to Vegas. Which pisses me off. Not the smile itself, but the timing. “So you put a piercing between my legs, and all of a sudden you’re smiling again, like it’s fucking Christmas?”
“Well, that’s definitely something to smile about. But cut the attitude. It kind of turns me on. And that’s not what you want right now,” he lets out the most seductive warning, and my mind dives straight into the gutter. But he’s right, I don’t want this right now. I don’t think I can handle this right now. So I try to play a little less bitchy. Hard to manage after yesterday, but some kind of self-preservation instinct kicks in, and I make it through the day unharmed—and, more importantly, unfucked.
I didn’t manage to escape sleeping in his bed that night, though. This, after he thoroughly inspected his handiwork to make sure everything was healing just fine. And of course, fast enough, to “put it to good use.” Those were his words, not mine.
The next day followed the same routine—office, dinner, then a movie. Well, I watched the movie since he was buried in phone calls, trying to get to the bottom of things with Chen.
He was strategizing, talking to his informants, while that concerned look seemed to be creeping back onto his face.
To be honest, I hate seeing him like that—so wound up he didn’t even make it to bed until morning. I’ve gotten used to having him around, even if, right now, I feel that would be dangerous for both my body and my sanity.
I’m the one making coffee this morning, hoping he’d at least sleep in a little. But just as I take my first sip, I see him making his way to me. He probably didn’t sleep at all. I noticed that about him—lately, sleepless nights were becoming his norm.
But strangely, he doesn’t look stressed this morning. If anything, he looks... calm—too calm.
“Did something happen?” I ask since I feel there’s something different today.
He looks at me, weighing whether he should tell me something or not. This is serious. I know it is, even before he begins speaking. “It’s tonight,” he pauses, letting the news sink in. “VIP party at the Black Medusa. Chen’s gonna be there.’’
I inhale, panic creeping in. “You sure you want to go through with this? You said you didn’t want to tip the balance.” Whatever that might mean.
“The balance is already tipped. He brought this on himself. This won’t be war. It’ll be annihilation,” he sounds so serious that I don’t have any doubt he means it.
“We meet Whiro at midnight. My men will be in position by then.”
“We?” I know he told me I’d be coming along, I was just hoping he’d reconsider. It’s not actually the danger that scares me, it’s the carnage. And maybe it’s the fact that this feels like one of his lessons. And his lessons always end in blood—not that I expected anything less. He did say annihilation, after all.
