Page 30 of Sinner's Obsession

“I met with the guys. Just with the guys.”

“I don’t care,” she says haughtily.

“So, it wouldn’t bother you if I said I fucked someone and then came home?”

Her eyes meet mine, fury blackening them. “You can do whatever you want to do. I won’t be here for long.”

I drag in a lungful of air. I would never allow her to see what lurks under this façade, but she loves to provoke me.

“I would never let you go.”

This time I let her push herself off me. What did I expect? To find one moment longer of solace? That’s not for me. She wants her freedom. I’ll put her in a cage and myself with her.

Fuck you, Cam!

I swim my laps, and when I come up for air, my eyes land on her two round globes. My hands itch to leave my imprint on her ass.

“The wedding is going to be on Friday.”

She gives me the finger. It only makes me harder. Decision made, I snatch a towel and call the guys.

“Why the hurry?” Cato asks after I tell them.

I’m in a hurry because I can’t wait to know she’s mine. I need to make her mine. Just one of the many ways I am planning to bind her to me irrevocably.

When I hang up, I flip the ring box open. This will be for the outside world, but beneath her skin will be another brand of ownership.

The door opens, and Tamara finds me in my office, holding the ring. Then she looks up, and defiance is written all over her face.

“I called your mother. She’s here.”

I ball my hands into fists at my sides.

“If this is the only way I can make you see reason, then yes. I know you will think it’s a betrayal, so I am quitting.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” I say and follow her into the dining room, disdain etched in my mother’s eyes when she looks from my father’s picture to me.

“Were you even going to tell me?”

“When the time came.”

My eyebrows draw together in confusion. I expected an argument, but it’s more resignation.

“If I asked you not to, would you?”

“I gave my word, Mother.”

She clutches her purse. “Should that make me feel better?”

“This has nothing to do with your feelings.”

From silent acceptance, she squares her shoulders, and I brace myself for the impact of her next words. “Is this how you will punish me, by marrying the daughter of that whore? I guess like mother, like daughter.”

“Mother, I won’t let you disrespect my future wife.”

“The men in this family never cared too much anyway, disrespecting their women. I hope you will be miserable with her.”

She turns on her heel, and I talk to her back, “I guess you’re not coming to the wedding?”

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