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It was tucked against the bottom of the drawer. Next to the familiar metal, I felt something else. A piece of paper. I gripped it between my thumb and forefinger and pulled it loose. Clicking on the lamp, I winced away from the glare and stared at the paper until Sin’s dark, slanting handwriting materialized.
Trust me. Everything I do is for you and Teddy.
I stared at the letters, trying to ascribe every meaning possible to them in the hopes I’d land on the right one. Was this about Sophia? About how he was with her to solidify his future as Sovereign? I shook my head. If he’d only spoken to me instead of running off with her, I could have told him about Cal’s proposition, about how I already had the key to winning.
The words blurred again as my eyes began to close of their own accord. Alcohol and fatigue warred inside me, but I would sleep no matter which was victorious. I stuffed the piece of paper into my nightstand and crawled back into bed, the knife forgotten. Trusting Sin was all I could do. I had no choice. I’d already decided to trust him the moment I left my father’s house. This was just more of the same self-inflicted torment.
The minutes ticked by, and I dozed off. I woke as the bed shifted. Cool air wafted over me as Lucius climbed into beside me. He pulled the blanket back up and ran his forearm under my neck, pulling me to him.
“You’re not wearing a shirt.” I rested my head on his shoulder and threw my arm across his stomach anyway. I was too tired to care about what he’d done to alleviate his blue balls, or worry about the fact he was shirtless. Maybe just having a warm body next to me could keep the nightmares at bay.
“You are an astute observer. I sleep naked.”
I tried to pull back.
“Calm down. I kept my boxers on for you.”
“Oh.” I settled against him again and inched my fingers down to check. They met fabric at his waist.
He ran his hand through my hair. “I think you were hoping I was lying.”
I snorted. “No. I just assumed the worst.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do that about me anymore. I’m in your bed after all. Dick dry as a bone. All because you asked and looked up at me with those goddamn green eyes. I feel like I’m pussy whipped, but I don’t even get the pussy.”
I was already drifting back to sleep as he complained. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m betting you’ll let me fuck you in the morning.”
I passed out mid-laugh.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SINCLAIR
I SPED DOWN THE narrow lane, pleased to have control once again. The time spent with Sophia had been full of appointments, duties, and requirements that chafed even the deep-seated decorum I’d been taught.
More than the freedom, I wanted Stella. Not on the phone. Not across a table from me. Not in a fucking first class seat next to me. I wanted her beneath me, crying my name in pleasure and pain. My moods grew darker each day I was away until Sophia declared me “insufferable” and demanded I return home and wait for her arrival.
I was more than happy to oblige, leaving for the airport that night and returning even earlier than expected. My tires hummed on the pavement as a warm summer sun began to heat the muggy air. Impatience stalked back and forth through my mind, and I sped even faster, desperate to hold what was mine.
The gate swung open too slowly for my tastes, but before long I was cruising under the familiar Vinemont oaks. I parked in front and took the steps at a run. The house was quiet, everyone just waking up for the day. I couldn’t stop the smile that quirked my lips as I approached Stella’s door. I slowed my steps, creeping along the runner, not making a sound.
Turning her door handle, I pushed the door open and peered through.
My stomach sank, and every bit of anticipation running through my blood turned to ice. She lay on her side, face angelic in sleep, as Lucius slept beside her, his arm slung across her waist, his face buried in her hair.
They were beautiful together in the morning light. A stunning pair who encompassed so much—pure and corrupt, light and dark. My hand tightened on the doorknob until my bones pressed into the glass. Something this lovely needed to be destroyed. I followed the line of Stella’s body, the curve of her breast through her top, the blanket pulled just to her hip. Lucius’s tan arm stood in contrast her fair skin. My fingertips remembered her smoothness. I’d traced her face every night in my dreams.
My palm grew warm, blood coating the door handle as I took in every breath, every curve, and every hair on her head.
