Page 34
Story: Forbidden Sins
Her chin tips up defiantly. “It matters to me.”
I should step away. Go back inside. Put a stop to this. I can’t let go of her hand. Her dark eyes look up at me, beseeching, pleading, and I swallow hard, looking at this woman that I feel more for than I ever have for any other person in the world.
“Your father would kill me,” I murmur, my voice a harsh whisper in the darkness. “If I’m lucky.”
“I know.” She tugs her hand away and steps back, a defeated look in her eyes that I suddenly feel I’d give anything, even my life, to take away. “I know, Sebastian. I’m sorry. I just?—”
“You don’t want to marry one of them.”
“I don’t want to marry one of them,” she repeats hollowly. “But I have to, right? This is my life. It’s the only one I’ll get. And I don’t get a choice in how I live it.”
“Estella?” Antony’s voice comes from the entrance to the ballroom, and she flinches, quickly moving past me.
“Estella.” I start to reach for her, despite all the reasons I shouldn’t, and she slips out of my grasp like water.
“I need to get back to the party,” she says quickly, picking up her pace as she hurries back toward the mansion. I trail behind her, catching up just in time to see her speaking to her father.
“The Bianchis are leaving,” he says. “You should say goodbye.”
“Of course.” Estella nods, slipping into the ballroom, and Antony looks up, his gaze catching mine.
“Sinclair.” His voice turns hard, and I feel the sudden need to justify why I was out in the gardens with Estella, alone.
“I saw she’d wandered off, sir. I just wanted to be sure she was safe.”
Antony nods. “Of course,” he says easily, but his gaze lingers for a moment longer, and I can feel the weight of what he’s not saying.
I might be watching her, but he’s watching me.
He’s watchingus.
12
SEBASTIAN
Two days after the party, I find myself with Brick in Antony’s office, going over security details with them both. I stand a foot back from where Brick is delivering his weekly security report, hands clasped behind my back as I listen, trying to keep my thoughts from wandering. These days, it’s hard to do.
In the last two days, no fewer than four of the interested men have stopped by to have lunch with Estella, walk around the gardens with her, or talk with her in the library. One of them I know by sight and name—Vito Bianchi, the underboss for the Italian mafia in Boston. It’s impossible for me to imagine the man with Estella. He’s in his mid-forties, balding, with a paunch and marks left from bad skin, probably in his younger years. There’s nothing remotely attractive about him, although he’s wealthy enough that I imagine he doesn’t lack for women. The thought of him touching Estella makes my skin crawl.
“The new men that we have on the perimeter are proving to be excellent additions to the team,” Brick says, jolting me out of my thoughts. “And we’ve gotten the upgraded camera systemsinstalled. The blind spots that you were concerned about have been resolved.”
“Good.” Antony looks over the diagrams that Brick hands him. “And Estella is having dinner tomorrow with Adamos? Is that all arranged?”
He looks at me, and I manage to keep my face carefully neutral as I speak. “Yes, sir. We’ll have three extra men in the restaurant, positioned to keep an eye out, and two extra men in a following car. I’ll be close by, of course.”
“Perfect.” Antony sets the diagrams down. “And what do you think of Mr. Adamos, Sinclair?”
I start a little at the question. “You want my opinion, sir?”
Antony looks at me coolly. “You are the man who protects my daughter, yes? I would like to know your opinion.”
I choose my next words carefully. “Competent,” I say finally. “He seems to surround himself with men who are well-chosen. His security is impeccable. I can’t say that he’s not an intelligent and discerning man.”
“Discerning enough to take an interest in my daughter,” Antony grins. “Is there anything else, Sinclair?”
I swallow hard. “I think it’s not my place to comment on anything else, sir. Your daughter’s suitors are her business and yours.”
“I’m making it your place,” Antony snaps, his good mood souring as quickly as it came. “I asked you a question. You’ve been her shadow for three years now, Sinclair. Your job is to watch those around her. I want your read on Nico Adamos.”
I should step away. Go back inside. Put a stop to this. I can’t let go of her hand. Her dark eyes look up at me, beseeching, pleading, and I swallow hard, looking at this woman that I feel more for than I ever have for any other person in the world.
“Your father would kill me,” I murmur, my voice a harsh whisper in the darkness. “If I’m lucky.”
“I know.” She tugs her hand away and steps back, a defeated look in her eyes that I suddenly feel I’d give anything, even my life, to take away. “I know, Sebastian. I’m sorry. I just?—”
“You don’t want to marry one of them.”
“I don’t want to marry one of them,” she repeats hollowly. “But I have to, right? This is my life. It’s the only one I’ll get. And I don’t get a choice in how I live it.”
“Estella?” Antony’s voice comes from the entrance to the ballroom, and she flinches, quickly moving past me.
“Estella.” I start to reach for her, despite all the reasons I shouldn’t, and she slips out of my grasp like water.
“I need to get back to the party,” she says quickly, picking up her pace as she hurries back toward the mansion. I trail behind her, catching up just in time to see her speaking to her father.
“The Bianchis are leaving,” he says. “You should say goodbye.”
“Of course.” Estella nods, slipping into the ballroom, and Antony looks up, his gaze catching mine.
“Sinclair.” His voice turns hard, and I feel the sudden need to justify why I was out in the gardens with Estella, alone.
“I saw she’d wandered off, sir. I just wanted to be sure she was safe.”
Antony nods. “Of course,” he says easily, but his gaze lingers for a moment longer, and I can feel the weight of what he’s not saying.
I might be watching her, but he’s watching me.
He’s watchingus.
12
SEBASTIAN
Two days after the party, I find myself with Brick in Antony’s office, going over security details with them both. I stand a foot back from where Brick is delivering his weekly security report, hands clasped behind my back as I listen, trying to keep my thoughts from wandering. These days, it’s hard to do.
In the last two days, no fewer than four of the interested men have stopped by to have lunch with Estella, walk around the gardens with her, or talk with her in the library. One of them I know by sight and name—Vito Bianchi, the underboss for the Italian mafia in Boston. It’s impossible for me to imagine the man with Estella. He’s in his mid-forties, balding, with a paunch and marks left from bad skin, probably in his younger years. There’s nothing remotely attractive about him, although he’s wealthy enough that I imagine he doesn’t lack for women. The thought of him touching Estella makes my skin crawl.
“The new men that we have on the perimeter are proving to be excellent additions to the team,” Brick says, jolting me out of my thoughts. “And we’ve gotten the upgraded camera systemsinstalled. The blind spots that you were concerned about have been resolved.”
“Good.” Antony looks over the diagrams that Brick hands him. “And Estella is having dinner tomorrow with Adamos? Is that all arranged?”
He looks at me, and I manage to keep my face carefully neutral as I speak. “Yes, sir. We’ll have three extra men in the restaurant, positioned to keep an eye out, and two extra men in a following car. I’ll be close by, of course.”
“Perfect.” Antony sets the diagrams down. “And what do you think of Mr. Adamos, Sinclair?”
I start a little at the question. “You want my opinion, sir?”
Antony looks at me coolly. “You are the man who protects my daughter, yes? I would like to know your opinion.”
I choose my next words carefully. “Competent,” I say finally. “He seems to surround himself with men who are well-chosen. His security is impeccable. I can’t say that he’s not an intelligent and discerning man.”
“Discerning enough to take an interest in my daughter,” Antony grins. “Is there anything else, Sinclair?”
I swallow hard. “I think it’s not my place to comment on anything else, sir. Your daughter’s suitors are her business and yours.”
“I’m making it your place,” Antony snaps, his good mood souring as quickly as it came. “I asked you a question. You’ve been her shadow for three years now, Sinclair. Your job is to watch those around her. I want your read on Nico Adamos.”
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