Page 192 of Heartless Sinner

“I’m his Fawn,” I confessed as I sank down on my bed beside her.

Adelina’s back went rigid, her eyebrows shooting up. “That asshole. I explicitly told him you were off-limits.”

“You could’ve told him a million times, and it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Our father⁠—”

“Allowed it,” I interrupted, tracing a pattern on the blanket as I chewed my lower lip. “Out of revenge … I think.”

“I’m so telling my mom.” She scooted in closer and wrapped both hands around mine. “I’ll get you out of this. I promise.”

“I don’t think I want you to get me out of it,” I whispered, staring down at our joined hands.

“What? Why?”

“Because …” I turned my head away, losing her hold as I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my cheek against them.

She ran her hand through my hair. “Daphne, look at me.”

I slowly did.

“You can tell me anything. You know that.”

I took a shaky breath. “I think I’m falling in love with your brother.”

Forty-Six

Brooks

Sterling was harder to track down than Ajax.

Oil tycoons didn’t exactly make themselves available to just anyone. Luckily, Cristian Marchetti had resources everywhere.

Hours after fucking Daphne in the library, I was back in the warehouse.

Sterling was the one bound to the chair this time. Ajax’s blood still stained the concrete beneath his feet. A dark purple welt swelled on his cheekbone, and his lip was split open.

Enzo stepped forward, wiping blood from his knuckles. “We had a little fun.” He nodded toward a shaking Sterling. “But we saved him for you to deliver the final punishment.”

I gave him a nod of appreciation before looking at the others. That was the thing about the Sons. We could threaten to kill one another one day and help bury the body the next.

Every Son but Cory was here. So was Cristian. He was the one who’d reeled Sterling in with a fake business proposition.

A man could have more money than God, but that didn’t make him immune to the promise of making more.

I stopped directly in front of Sterling, close enough that he had to crane his neck to look up at me. “Why’d you sell the stories?”

“No one embarrasses my daughter like you did.” He spat at my shoe, the saliva streaked red.

I looked down at the glob on the leather, then slowly raised my eyes back to him.

Brave move for a man tied to a chair.

“Your father and I had made a deal. People don’t double-cross me and get away with it. My daughter was supposed to be First Lady! She would’ve gotten over what happened at that club. You ruined everything for some cunt!”

I slammed my fist into his mouth, the impact vibrating up my arm. His head snapped back violently. I hadn’t even bothered with the brass knuckles in my pocket. The fury over his insult told me I could kill him with my bare hands.

The blow silenced him instantly. His eyes widened, whatever arrogance he’d walked in with gone from his battered face.