Page 67 of The Sinner’s Desire (The Sinner’s Touch #1)

I shove my laptop into my backpack in a rush.

Every day is like this: as the time to see her draws closer, my body starts heating up, shedding its usual tension.

The thought of being with Lilly always has the power to wipe away any exhaustion.

It still amazes me that even after all this time, I never get tired of her. No matter how much we’re together, I always want more.

The only person I don’t mind sharing her with is Bruno. I like watching them together. I love seeing how Lilly helps him open up.

Sometimes they’re sitting on the floor coloring in, and little by little, he snuggles closer to her. By the afternoon, he’s usually nestled between her legs, eating cookies or just gazing at her with adoration as we talk.

You can’t be near my angel without wanting her light, and both that little boy, who’s becoming more important to us each day, and I, need that light.

I still haven’t moved out of the apartment I share with Ethan, like I’d planned, because I’ve decided I’m going to ask her to marry me.

Maybe I’m being selfish, considering Lilly hasn’t experienced much of life yet, but I love her and I don’t want to wait.

Watching her grow each day—shedding her girlhood and becoming an independent woman—is beautiful to witness. And I’m not ashamed to say I won’t give anyone else the chance to come in and take her from me.

I’m parking in her building’s garage when my phone vibrates—a message notification. As soon as I see Lilly’s name on the screen, a bit of unease creeps in.

She never texts me at this time. It makes no sense—we’ll be seeing each other in just a few minutes.

Yeah . . .I’ve become a man of fixed routines. If I’m in Boston, nothing keeps me in the office at night.

Lilly: Hey, love. Just wanted to let you know I’m heading to my neighbor’s for a cup of coffee. Should be back before you get here. Love you.

I notice the message came in about ten minutes late, and I’m hoping that by the time I get upstairs, she’ll already be back. Yeah, I’m a spoiled bastard who wants her full attention.

I open the apartment door, but it’s clear right away she’s not here.

After tossing my backpack on the couch, I decide to check my laptop—see if there’s any urgent work to handle. Mostly just killing time, since the chances of a miracle happening and us finding Maria are slim.

She’s still the only thing keeping me up at night. I won’t have peace until I know we’ve caught her.

Fifteen more minutes go by, and nothing urgent pops up. A kidnapping in Eastern Europe, where my men were involved, ended with the victim rescued and the criminals dead—as usual.

I glance at the clock for the tenth time. Now Lilly is officially late.

That’s odd—she’s never late. In fact, she’s the most punctual person I know.

Would I look like a total idiot going over there?

Just to check, I lie to myself.

The truth is, a lot has changed since we got together, but one thing that will likely never change is my need for control.

That’s it. I’ll go, check that everything’s fine, and if my woman is having a nice time with her friend, I’ll be the good boyfriend and get dinner started.

I’ve never met the elderly lady, but Lilly has mentioned her. A lonely woman with a little dog.

There are only two apartments per floor, so just a few steps, and I’m at her door. I raise my hand to knock when the sound of something shattering, followed by moans, stops me cold.

I’m trained to stay alert at all times—so anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small, instantly puts me on edge.

Instead of knocking, I head back to the apartment and grab my gun from my backpack.

I return to the neighbor’s door, and then I hear my woman say, “No, I need to go.”

She doesn’t sound like my Lilly. Her voice is slurred, as if she’s drunk, and risking looking like a complete madman, I pound on the door.

“Lilly?”

Silence.

“Lilly, is everything okay?”

“Amos . . .”

Now there’s no doubt something’s very wrong. I try the handle, and when it won’t budge, I slam against the door, hitting the emergency button on my phone to call Ethan.

“What is it?”

“Get to your sister’s neighbor’s apartment. Fast. I may need backup.”

The noises inside suddenly stop. More determined than ever, I kick the door this time—and finally, it gives way.

The second I step inside, my worst nightmare takes shape.

Lilly looks unconscious on the couch while the woman I’ve been hunting for years holds a gun to her temple.

Maria.