Page 39 of Sinful Lord

“You’re just going soft,” Yasha rolls her eyes. “Must be that girl you’re crushing on.”

A fire erupts inside of me.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me. You have a crush on someone else. It’s making you soft.”

My fingernails dig into my palms as my hands curl into fists. I think of Melina in her little apartment, alone and vulnerable. I remember how exposed she was last night. How I’m the only one who’s allowed to see her like that. No one else should even know she exists. Not yet.

“… How the fuck did you find out about that?” I hear myself mumble.

“I didn’t,” Yasha laughs. “But you just confirmed it. All I had was an idea. A jealous, invasive idea. I haven’t been able to shake the thought of some other girl getting to have that body of yours. Still, it almost feels better to know. Before, it was just a hunch from the last time we met. I could see the twinkle in your eye. For a second, I thought it was for me. I should have known better.”

“You keep to yourself,” I warn her.

“Only if you promise to do the same to me. Destroy those tapes. Stop asking for favors… unless you're willing to pay for them like I’m willing to pay Otto.”

She struts towards me and I have to call on all of my willpower not to throw her across the floor.

“Never again,” I grit.

“Because of your new girl,” Yasha nods.

But she’s not allowed to talk about Melina.

Ripping my phone from my pocket, I pull up a stopwatch and set the timer.

“You have twenty-four hours to get me a meeting with your underworld connections,” I tell Yasha, showing her the screen. “If it doesn’t happen by then, I send that video I showed you to Otto.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Just watch me,” I snarl.

“Fuck… fine. You’re no fun. I’ll set something up.”

“Good.”

That’s all I needed. Turning my back on Yasha, I march for the door.

“Wait, where are you going? Don’t want to stick around and dance?” Yasha taunts.

I decide to hit her right back with a taunt of my own. Stopping at the door, I look over my shoulder.

“I have a date,” I say.

Yasha’s teasing smile immediately drops into a defeated frown.

“Asshole…” she calls after me, as I step back into the hotel hallway and slam the door shut.

I don’t care enough to respond. All I can think about is Melina.

Her beauty. Her body. Her artwork. The way she touched herself and moaned my name.

Fuck.

I’m going to make her dance. And if she doesn’t know how, I’ll teach her.

Hopefully, she’s making good use of my gift. Because the real thing’s coming for her. And I’m not going to be able to hold myself back.