Page 49 of Sweet Sinners

Chapter forty-two

Cali

I stare numbly at the screen, my vision blurring until the words become meaningless shapes. It feels impossible, unreal. My pulse pounds in my ears, panic clawing at my throat.

"But...it doesn't make sense. That’s not enough reason to kill someone," I whisper, teeth sinking nervously into my bottom lip. I shake my head slowly, as if denial alone could erase what I’ve seen.

"Cali," Connor says gently, his voice firm yet cautious, trying to anchor me to reality.

"I mean, yeah," I mutter to myself, ignoring him, "my dad could've been a better husband, made better choices—hell, been a better man. But having an affair doesn’t justify murder. She was one of my closest friends, Connor. She wouldn’t.

.." My voice trails off, refusing to finish a thought that would shatter everything I believed.

I keep insisting, desperately clinging to denial. Yes, Anna knew Dad’s schedule inside out, knew every detail, every secret meeting, every quiet evening alone. But even if she was hurt, angry—hell, furious—could she really cross that line? Was revenge worth destroying me, too?

The realization hits me like ice water. Maybe she didn't care who she destroyed anymore, as long as she took him down with her.

Connor’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts again, sharper this time. "Cali, look at me. Just—look away from the damn screen for a minute."

His hand gently cups my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his, steadying me against the fear tightening my chest, my breath shaky, my heart slamming against my ribs.

"Connor," I whisper, voice strained. "She threatened me. She warned me I wouldn’t like what happened if I fired her.

She compared me to my dad, said I was just as bad, even accused us of sleeping together.

And we are...what if she outs us? What if she hurts someone else? What if she comes after you?"

Before I can spiral deeper, Connor moves swiftly, lifting me effortlessly onto his lap, his arms a comforting cage around me.

His touch steadies my racing heart, bringing me back down, grounding me in reality.

"We have security," he says calmly, firmly, his voice a soothing anchor against my panic.

"Cameras cover every inch of this house. "

"But we haven't checked!" I blurt, anxiety bleeding into my voice. "What if she's been watching us all week? She has no job, no reason to hold back—what if she’s desperate enough to do something crazy?"

Without missing a beat, Connor pulls out his phone, fingers flying as he pulls up the security feed. His free hand gently strokes my spine, keeping me close, protected. "We’re going to figure this out," he murmurs, voice unwavering. "Right now."

He tightens his hold, pressing a reassuring kiss to my temple as he begins meticulously scrolling through footage from the past week, determined not to miss a single detail.

I stare at the screen, breath caught painfully in my throat, waiting—needing—to see her there. But the footage just shows me coming home, the groundskeepers tending to the garden, people doing their jobs.

Nothing else.

No Anna.

No threat—at least, not yet.

"Check Monday," I whisper, my voice tight with dread.

Connor pauses, thumb hovering over the screen. His eyes flicker to mine, cautious but intense, like he's bracing himself for my breaking point. "Cali," he murmurs, voice low, a gentle warning.

"Do it," I insist, jaw clenched, ignoring the way my pulse thunders violently in my chest. "We had sex in the kitchen, Connor. And Anna loves playing voyeur."

With a reluctant sigh, he presses play, and I brace myself, tension coiling tight in my stomach.

And there she is.

Anna’s face is illuminated by the dim glow of her phone screen, shadows darkening the sharp angles of her features.

Her expression is twisted, lips curled into a chilling smirk, eyes locked hungrily through the kitchen window.

My heart lurches painfully as nausea rises, thick and bitter in my throat.

She lifts her phone, deliberately capturing every intimate, damning detail—me, on my knees, half-naked, oblivious, utterly vulnerable .

"Oh God," I choke out, my voice strangled by panic and humiliation. The room spins, and suddenly I can barely breathe.

Anna knew exactly what she was doing. And now she has everything she needs to destroy us.

"Connor, she saw everything. If those pictures get out…"

His jaw tightens, muscles flexing as he visibly struggles to control his anger. He opens his mouth to say something but stops, as though words aren’t enough to ease this.

I pull away, shaking my head frantically, humiliation burning my cheeks.

"I'm supposed to be CEO, Connor. This could destroy the entire company. My reputation, my father's legacy—everything. She took my dad’s life, your mom’s life, and now she’s coming for mine.

Oh God, I can’t—" My voice chokes off, heart racing so fast it feels like it's about to shatter my ribs.

"Cali," he says firmly, stepping toward me, voice calm despite the storm brewing in his eyes. "Look at me. Stop."

I barely hear him, panic spiraling through me. "What would our grandparents say, Connor? They raised us to protect this family, to uphold the reputation. And now I've ruined everything. I'm falling apart, and I—"

He closes the distance in an instant, gripping both my wrists gently but firmly and lifting them over my head. My eyes snap to his, startled into silence. His chest presses against mine, steady and reassuring, his heartbeat strong beneath his shirt.

"You’re going to breathe with me," he commands softly, a quiet intensity in his voice that makes me shiver. "Just breathe."

I nod shakily, barely able to hold his gaze, but I follow his lead. Connor inhales deeply, slow and even, and I copy him, forcing air into my tight lungs. Again. And again. Until gradually, my pulse steadies, my breathing matches his, and the panic begins to fade into something manageable.

As the tightness in my chest loosens, he pulls me closer, wrapping me securely in his arms. I cling to him, desperate for his strength, listening to his heartbeat—the only steady, unbroken thing left in this chaotic mess of our lives.

"What do we do now?" I whisper, the question barely escaping as the weight of it presses down, nearly suffocating me. Connor’s touch is the only thing holding me steady.

"You call her," he says, his voice quiet but firm.

"Tell her you made a mistake—that you're sorry.

Ask her to talk things out in person. She hasn't released the photos yet; they're not online, or we'd already know.

I've got Nathan running searches constantly, monitoring your name. Anything that shows up, he’ll take it down immediately, no questions asked. We still have options."

I nod slowly, sinking deeper into his chest, drawing strength from his steady heartbeat beneath my ear. His hand slides along my spine, comforting, calming me inch by inch. He dips his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against my temple.

"I might be stuck in this house, Angel, but trust me—I still know how to handle problems."

"I trust you," I breathe out, the words so quiet they're nearly lost between us, but I know he hears them.

"Good," he murmurs, brushing his lips against my hair. "Then call her. Tell her you acted hastily and you want to understand—she’ll come. She's desperate, Cali. And when she does, I'll be there with you. We'll confront her together."

My throat tightens again, fear winding itself around me like a rope.

I grip Connor's shirt tightly, needing him closer, needing to feel solid ground beneath my feet. He tightens his arms around me, like unbreakable walls protecting me from the world. I close my eyes, breathing him in, slowly feeling the panic ease. For just a moment, I can almost believe we’ll come out of this okay.

But doubt still gnaws at the edges. "And if it doesn't work? What's our backup plan? What if she won't listen, Connor—what if she just keeps threatening me?"

Connor tilts my chin up, his emerald gaze unwavering, fierce, refusing to let my fear win.

"Cali, you're one of the strongest people I know.

You handle crisis after crisis without blinking.

You run a company, fix problems, and you're doing it all while living under a microscope—living with someone the whole city thinks is a cold blooded killer.

" His thumb strokes gently along my jaw, eyes burning into mine with conviction. "You jumped straight into the fire when I got hurt, fearless and determined. You protect everyone around you with more heart and bravery than anyone I’ve ever met. I see that fire in you, and I’ve seen how deep your compassion runs. "

He takes a breath, voice steadying into something softer but equally powerful.

"I'm convinced there’s nothing you can't handle.

And if she does threaten you or tries anything, I'll have every second of it recorded for the police.

I'll call them myself, anonymously if I have to. I promise you, Calliope, she’ll pay for everything she's done. "

My voice trembles, barely hanging onto control. "We'll do this together?"

Connor's eyes soften, intense yet gentle as he cups my face in his hands, bringing our foreheads together. "Yes, Angel," he murmurs fiercely. "From now on, it's you and me. We started this together, and we're going to finish it—no matter what it takes."