Page 152 of Lawless Sinners

My throat closes around all the things I should say, and somewhere deep inside, something soft and stupid starts dying.

“I know,” I whisper, because pride is the only thing I have left, even if it’s shrinking in my chest.

His expression darkens, and everything inside me recoils before he speaks again.

“You were a distraction,” he says, taking another step away. “An entertaining one, but still a distraction. Don’t embarrass yourself by mistaking my boredom for anything else.”

The words go through me slowly, as if my body refuses to understand them all at once.

I swallow hard and stare up at him while the corridor tilts beneath my feet.

“Necklace,” I whisper.

Fionn stops talking as if the word has winded him. His jaw locks, his throat moves, and for a breath, the cruelty slips a fraction as he stares at me.

In silence, he breaks eye contact, smooths the front of his jacket, and adjusts his cufflinks one at a time.

Then he steps around me without saying another word.

I stand there with my heart racing and my head swimming as he walks back toward the ballroom.

The door opens, spilling voices, clinking glasses, laughter, and music into the corridor. When it closes behind him, I’m left with nothing but bland walls, shaking hands, and a crack in my chest.

I don’t move as the sting settles under my skin, the humiliation blooming through my body.

My fingers curl into my palms, nails biting deep, grounding me in the ache.

For a moment, I just breathe through the hollowness he’s left in his wake.

Chapter 29

Sera

Eilish finds me before I make it three steps into the room and pushes a glass of champagne into my hand.

“Well? I saw you follow him,” she whispers.

I keep my eyes on the ballroom, and my spine poker straight.

“And you saw me come back alone.”

She angles herself into me, obviously sensing something is wrong because she knows me better than anyone. “What happened?”

“Your plan won’t work.”

“Did you tell him how you feel?”

“Thankfully not.” I look at her then, because there’s an ache in my stomach, and I might just vomit. “He was using me, Eilish.”

Her cheeks go pink, and her forehead scrunches.

“I don’t get it…”

“There’s nothing to get,” I say, palming my belly. “He fucked me. I fucked him. It’ll never happen again.”

“Bastard,” she whispers. “Are you okay?”

The softness in her voice almost wrecks me, because Eilish is the one person who knows that I let my guard down with the wrong man.