Taken By A Sinner: Chapter 19
I wake up to an empty bed, the only sign that Nikolas was here, the ache between my legs. Thank God I have an IUD, or I’d have to get a morning-after pill.
My whimpers and moans cling to the walls, driving me out of my apartment and to the nearest Starbucks for coffee.
I notice two new guards but don’t bother with them because I’m too consumed with what happened last night.
Nikolas and I.
What does it mean? I’m not stupid enough to think he cares about me. It’s just physical attraction. Right?
After ordering a coffee, I take a seat at one of the empty tables in the corner. I keep replaying the hot sex over and over in my mind. I can still feel him thrusting inside me. I can still hear his low growls, his breaths.
Damn, my buttcheek’s still sensitive from all the spanking.
Just the thoughts are enough to make me squirm in my chair.
Shit. You can’t get turned on in public. Get a hold of yourself.
Setting the physical aspect aside, I turn my attention to my jumbled emotions.
I don’t like him. Nope, not one bit.
Still…
I love how powerful he is. I love how he never backs down but takes what he wants.
I love how much he wants me.
It makes me feel special… like I’m one of a kind. Like I’m not overweight but desirable.
Before the emotions can take root, I shove them down, finish the beverage and leave Starbucks.
With the two new guards in front of me, and James and Grant behind me, I head back to my apartment, so I can get in some work before it’s time to head over to the Stathoulis’ house for lunch.
Honestly, I’m not looking forward to lunch. It’s one thing giving into your desires in the dark of night, but facing Nikolas in the light of day is a whole different story.
Shame threatens to trickle into my chest while I try to focus on my work. It’s useless, though. I can’t concentrate on anything but Nikolas and what happened between us.
With lunchtime approaching fast, I get ready, putting on a light summer dress and sandals. With my hair a mess because I didn’t blow dry it last night, I tie it back in a ponytail.
The entire ride to the Stathoulis’ mansion is spent playing out various scenarios in my head. Hopefully, we’ll get to talk about this thing between us and put it to rest.
I’m let into the house by a guard and head in the direction of the dining room, where I hear Athina chuckling.
“Theresa,” Nikolas’ voice brings me to a stop. I glance over my shoulder to where he’s standing by the study. “Come here.”
I change direction, figuring it’s best we get the talk out of the way. When I step into the study and see Christos, Nikolas and Athina’s cousin, sitting in one of the chairs, a frown forms on my forehead.
Okay, so we’re not talking about what happened.
“Sit,” Nikolas instructs while he shuts the door.
I give Christos a pleasant smile, sitting down in the other chair.
Once Nikolas takes his seat across from us, his eyes move slowly from Christos to me.
Apprehension slithers into my veins like a poisonous snake.
Nikolas locks eyes with me. There’s zero emotion on his face, his features cut from stone. “Christos has agreed to marry you.”
My entire world comes to a shuddering stop.
“He has to leave for Greece soon, seeing as his business is almost completed in Vancouver. The wedding will take place next Saturday.”
No.
I begin to rise from the chair, but my legs are too numb, and I slump back.
No, this isn’t happening.
I shake my head, my dry lips parting. My eyes dart from Nikolas to Christos, who gives me an encouraging smile, then back to Nikolas’ harsh features. Finally, I manage to whisper, “What?”
“You’ll marry Christos in a week, Theresa.” It’s an order.
With my mind stunned, I struggle to think straight. “My studies…” I begin lamely.
That’s the least of your problems right now!
“No,” I gasp, this time darting to my feet and taking three steps away from the men. “No!”
Nikolas gets up and slams his fists on the desk, anger detonating from him and sucking the air out of the office. “You will obey. The deal’s been made, and you’ll honor it.”
Shaking my head wildly, there’s a claustrophobic hold on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Not able to process the disastrous turn my life just took, I spin around and rush out of the study.
“Theresa!” Nikolas roars behind me.
I break out into a run and escape the house. I almost make it to the SUV before he grabs hold of my arm. I’m spun around and shoved back against the SUV. Nikolas towers over me like a thunderous cloud about to rain hellfire down on me.
“No,” I gasp, angry and hopeless tears pushing up my throat. I rip my one arm free and slap him across the face. My palm stings as I spit out, “You’re such an asshole! There’s no way I’m marrying that man.”
Nikolas grips hold of my chin, and we find ourselves back in the familiar position where hate and rage are the only emotions whirling between us.
“You will do as you’re told.”
I try to shake my head, and even though anger pulses through me, desperation makes me plead, “Don’t do this to me. Please.”
Nikolas lets go of me, and taking a step back, he sucks in a deep breath. “Christos is a good man. He’ll be good to you.”
“I don’t care! What about my life? What about what I want?”
The meager space between us vanishes in a heartbeat as Nikolas takes a step forward again. “This is for your safety, Theresa! I’m doing what’s best for you.”
Humorless laughter bubbles over my dry lips. “Oh, spare me! You couldn’t give two shits about me.” Rage implodes inside of me, leaving only devastation behind in its wake. “This is because you’re physically attracted to me and because you can’t man up and face it, you’re shipping me off.”
Our eyes lock, a full-blown war raging between us.
An angry muscle ticks in his jaw, his breaths just as fast as mine. “You’re right, Theresa,” he growls. “You were a good fuck, but at the end of the day, that’s all you’re good for.” He lets out a burst of incredulous laughter. “Did you think I actually cared? Surely, you’re not that naïve?” With danger darkening his eyes, he sneers, “I’m done with you, and you can count your fucking blessings that I’m not handing you over to some old fucker, but Christos.”
I suck in a desperate breath as his words rain down on me like acid, flaying me to the bone. Shoving against his chest with all my might, I turn away from the monster that’s still dead set on ruining my life, the monster I freaking slept with. I yank the back door open and climb into the SUV.
Giving Nikolas a scalding glare, I lift my chin, and with ice coating every word, I say, “You can go fuck yourself, Nikolas.”
I manage to keep my shit together until the SUV drives out through the iron gates. Scrummaging in my bag, I pull the Xanax bottle from it. I struggle to open it, my hands trembling too much.
James takes the bottle from me and, removing a pill, he hands it to me. I quickly place it beneath my tongue, shutting my eyes tightly as wave after wave of devastation rocks the entire foundation my life’s been built on.
Tears spiral down my cheeks, a sob building thickly in my throat.
I can’t believe it.
He arranged a marriage for me?
What the ever-loving hell?
This isn’t happening. It’s just a bad dream. Nikolas can’t be so cruel to sleep with me only to discard me like trash the very next day.
‘You were a good fuck, but at the end of the day, that’s all you’re good for.’
That’s exactly what’s happening. I’m just a problem he’s getting rid of. He got what he wanted from me.
‘I’m done with you.’
My anger keeps growing, and being disappointed in myself for giving in to my desires makes everything a million times worse. I try to ignore the intense ache in my chest from the cruel things he said.
Determined to put a stop to Nikolas’ plan, I dig my phone out of my bag and dial my mother’s number.
“Agápi mou,” Mom answers.
“Mamá,” a sob cuts off my voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nikolas,” I gasp. “He’s arranging… a marriage for me.”
There’s a moment of silence, then I hear Mom moving. “Peter!” she calls out. “Is Nikolas arranging a marriage for Theresa?”
“I haven’t spoken to him, but she’s of marrying age,” I hear Peter answer.
“You have to stop him,” I plead with Mom.
“We’ll come home right away,” Mom coos. “Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Hiccupping through another sob, my voice is strained as I say, “Okay.”
We end the call, and with the hope that Mom will put a stop to Nikolas’ ridiculous plan, I sink back against the seat, feeling completely drained.
Only when some semblance of calm returns to my chaotic emotions do I realize I feel heartbroken.
I shake my head, shunning the unwanted emotion.
There’s nothing to be heartbroken over. You hate Nikolas Stathoulis. It’s not like you were falling for the asshole because that’s just absurd.
There’s not a single thing about the man you like.
You’re just hurt because he used you.