Taken By A Sinner (The Sinners Series)

Nikolas has been gone a while, and with everyone getting ready for the speeches, I go look for him.

I hear soft murmuring from the study and peeking inside through the half-open door, shock shudders through me when I see Irene and Nikolas. Alone.

“Relax, I just wanted to congratulate you,” I hear Irene murmur, her voice husky with desire. She sidles up to Nikolas’ side, and when he doesn’t step away, my heart starts beating faster.

Seeing the person I fear most, the one responsible for years of agony, so close to the man I was starting to love, rips a hole through my heart.

“I really think you deserve better, though. A real queen by your side.”

It all becomes too much when she trails her finger seductively down his arm. Then her eyes flick to me, her smile growing with triumph.

Swinging around, I rush to the hallway, and only when I shut the restroom’s door behind me do I gasp for air.

My anxiety spikes, and digging in my clutch, I take out the Xanax bottle and quickly place a pill beneath my tongue. As I wait for the medication to take its effect, my mind’s bombarded with dark memories.

Irene shoving me down the stairs. I broke my arm, but it was blamed on me being clumsy. Everyone believed her, and I was too scared to set things straight.

Irene kicking me until I had three broken ribs. I told Mom I fell out of a tree, my fear for Irene a living, breathing thing after endless months of being slapped around by her.

After my dad died, we lived with Uncle Kostas, dad’s brother. Irene was forced to share a room with me, and her being ten years older than me meant she was a lot stronger. I was only eight. I didn’t know how to protect myself.

And she was cruel. Always so cruel.

Irene took every chance she could get to slap me around, kick me, shove me.

She was a nightmare.

Closing my eyes, I focus on my breaths, trying to shove the traumatic memories back down into the pit of despair I keep them locked in.

Irene’s just trying to hurt me. Again.

Breathe.

Nikolas won’t cheat on me.

Only when I feel some semblance of calm returning do I quickly check my makeup so I can go back to the party.

I take another deep breath as I open the door, but it stalls in my throat at the sight of Irene.

Oh, God.

No.

Her lips curve up into a sneer, her eyes drifting over me with apparent disdain. “If it isn’t the cunt who shouldn’t be a queen. Wow, you really squeezed all your fat into that dress? A bit tight, don’t you think?”

This isn’t happening.

My muscles freeze for a precious second, and it’s all it takes for Irene to lurch at me. Her hand connects with the side of my head, and I’m slammed against the mirror.

Glass splinters.

My scalp burns and stings.

The door shuts, and the air’s sucked out of the small space, my lungs instantly seizing to work.

Disorientated from the sudden attack, Irene has the upper hand as she fists my hair and slams the side of my head against the broken mirror again.

Warmth floods the right side of my face as I slump to the floor, then a kick collides with ribs, sending a wave of excruciating pain through my chest.

Somehow I manage to curl up against the wall, my mind fuzzy, the world spinning in and out of focus.

Apprehension and terror overwhelm me, making it impossible to think. Only one word comes to mind – Nikolas.

There’s another brutal kick to my lower back, and all I can do is whimper, years of conditioning keeping me imprisoned to the floor.

“You think you’re better than me because you married Nikolas Stathoulis?” Irene laughs manically. “Think again, cunt. He’ll grow bored of you soon enough and then look for a real woman, one who’s not fat as fuck.”

Her words cut through me, airing all my insecurities and pain.

I don’t even realize Irene leaves, my strangled breaths are the only sound I can hear. Flashes of the past mix with the present, forming an endless loop of horror.

My insecurities and trauma form a thick cloud around me, making it even harder to breathe.

I was fat, but after my growth spurt, I was left with a curvy body – one I accepted. Nikolas made me feel like a real woman, one he desired and couldn’t get enough of, and it made me learn to love myself.

And Irene just obliterated it all.

Now I feel stupid for thinking I could look anything more than ridiculous in a tight dress.

A pain-filled groan escapes me as I try to lean back against the wall. My breaths are still coming too fast, and I struggle to reach for my purse, my left side, lower back, and head aching with an all too familiar pain. Finally, I manage to take the Xanax bottle out but opening the lid, the pills scatter over the floor from the intense trembling in my hands.

It feels like my lungs fall flat, my heart threatening to hammer right through my ribs.

Instinctively, I curl into a small ball, sobs strangeling the little air I have left from me. Nauseating dizziness spins in my head, making it hard to focus.

The door slams open, missing my head by an inch.

“She’s here!”

Andreas is a blur, then he moves out of the way, and Nikolas appears. After that, everything becomes flashes as my mind keeps checking out of reality.

Nikolas’ enraged face.

“Who did this to you?”

He drops to his knees in front of me.

My sight focus on his chest, and using the little strength I have left, I grab hold of his jacket and pull myself against him. I curl into him, and then horrible sobs tear through me.

It’s okay. Calm down.

Nikolas is here.

You’re safe.

Calm down.

Try to breathe.

“Tess… Theresa… Baby.”