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Sins

Penulis: Kirizu
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2022-10-13 18:33:42

For the next forty-eight hours I existed in a fog. Though I had acted out of anger, I regretted transferring my client to Domie. An underlying feeling of guilt niggled me. I missed Richard. I missed his calls and his low, calm voice. I could only wonder how our relationship would have developed over time. I sank even lower as time passed, and Richard left no messages.

Perry knew I was going out of town for six days. She thought I was visiting family in Normal, however. And so without telling a soul, I left for Sydney. My sturdy backpack contained everything I’d need for hiking and tombstoning. This short vacation was overdue.

In the Southern Hemisphere it was winter. There would be fewer tourists. I purchased a wetsuit for the colder water and decided that this time I wouldn’t camp outdoors. I booked a hotel room in Wollongong—a coastal city known for daunting cliffs and forested hiking trails.

The flight to Sydney took an entire day, and while in flight I scheduled my short visit
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  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   I want

    I’d never flown in a private jet before. From Sydney, I flew to Hawaii, where I switched planes and pilots. The second flight took me to Dallas’s Love Field, where I changed pilots and planes again. No waiting. No lines. No delays. I made the normal twenty-hour return to Chicago in under fifteen. When the plane landed, I limped slightly as I walked down the jetway. Sitting for an entire day had stiffened my body. The bruises on my palms and rear end ached. Sore muscles complained when I collected my backpack from the attendant. On the tarmac, a black Mercedes waited with the driver standing beside it. Travis took my backpack and pretended to sink under the weight of it.Though he relieved my ankle, I said, “I can carry that. It shouldn’t be too heavy for you.”“Did you pack rocks in here? How long were you gone?” Travis joked. “Two days. Three if you count the flights.”“We missed you.” With a smile, he heaved the bulky backpack into the trunk of the car.“Thanks, Travis.”Once on

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-10-13

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Skin

    Something was different. With a bounce in my step, I entered the elevator going down. From the lobby window, I looked for Travis, but didn’t see him. “Ms. Robert?”I turned to see a young man with an artfully trimmed black goatee standing behind me. “My name is Assad Ridhwaan. Mr. Mackenzie sent me.”“Where’s Travis? “He had a family emergency and couldn’t come to work today.” Assad led me to the Mercedes. I snapped my seatbelt into place and said, “I would have called a cab. Thanks for stepping in.”“Mr. Mackenzie wouldn’t stand for that. Besides, it’s my pleasure,” he said with a grin. Assad navigated Chicago traffic, turning toward downtown.At work, a bouquet of summer flowers arrived. Perry placed them on my desk. “There’s no card. Who do you think sent them? Was it. . . ?”The arrangement brightened my office. Perry and I both hoped it was Richard. “I don’t know,” I said. After I’d returned from Australia, I sensed that Richard wanted more from our relationship. And I felt th

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-10-13

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Photo

    In the days that followed, a weight lifted from my shoulders. It was as if I dove from the orange cliff at Navajo Falls into the spring waters of Lake Havasu. Our relationship had begun again with a fresh start. Tonight, I skipped my evening swim to stop at the grocery because I’d invited Richard for dinner. Since cooking took unnatural effort for me, I kept it simple and planned a meal of pasta Alfredo and a salad. I’d even bought new plates to serve dinner on. On the way home, I stopped at a liquor store for a bottle of white wine. The clerk talked me into a pricey California Chardonnay. It was more money than I had ever spent on wine. But I wanted to impress Richard, whose knowledge of wine far exceeded my own. And though he didn’t drink, I would. With alternative rock music playing, I swept the floors and wiped the counters. I straightened stacks of books and lit a few candles. I washed vegetables and shredded lettuce for the salad. At seven o’clock precisely, the phone rang. Th

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-10-13

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Belt

    It took me fifteen minutes to find my martial arts training uniform and black belt. Apparently Roman had unpacked it for me after the move, and she buried it in the drawer with my pajamas. I missed having Roman as a roommate. She cooked and kept the place tidy. She took care of things that I didn’t have time to. But I didn’t miss waking up to her sleep-over friends. She frequently brought home men she’d met in bars. It unnerved me walking into the kitchen and bumping into her half naked sex partners. Wearing the loose-fitting black gi uniform belted around my waist made me feel powerful again. It was a feeling that I savored as I sat cross-legged in the back row of Max Hiroaki’s class. Other black belts had welcomed me with a wary eye when I assured them that I’d been practicing for years. I’d left the dojo I practiced at for five years because of petty rivalry, but that was the least of the problems I had with them. The owner of that school regularly used his wife as a verbal punch

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-10-13

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Love song

    Bareilles sang, “Not gonna write you a love song,” as I made my breakfast coffee in the French press and checked emails. My backside tingled when I thought of the dungeon master and his whip, but otherwise wasn’t injured. My bum was a little tender and sported a small bruise which I wore like a medal of honor.I donned a simple black sleeveless form-fitting dress and my favorite shoes. The ones Richard had given me. As I put my cell phone in my purse, I spotted the black jewelry box on my dresser. Richard had asked me to wear the collar today. I lifted it out of the box and let the sparkling necklace drape over my fingers. I couldn’t fathom how much it cost but it seemed too flashy for the courtroom. “Wear it tomorrow,” Richard said. It wasn’t a request, more like a command that warmed my entire body. I buckled it around my neck and admired it in the mirror. “And if I don’t?” I’d asked. “There will be consequences,” he’d said, blue eyes flashing. It made me hot to think about Ri

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-10-13

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Paparazzi

    Richard had invited me to meet him at the Virgin Hotel, and the irony didn’t get past me. He wanted a secret liaison where we could explore our first BDSM encounter together. Neither of us would risk a meeting at our homes. Police protection was watching over me. Last week I’d drawn too much media attention when I went to Richard’s apartment with Assad. Now, the paparazzi was watching us both. There were too many eyes on our personal lives.My request to lose Travis for the night didn’t fly with Richard. And recalling Domie’s warning, I agreed.Derek Stone is a scapegoat. The killer’s still out there.After swimming that night, I sat at my kitchen counter, a big glass of wine in my hand. Gazing at the note, I set the glass down and removed the collar necklace. With it splayed out beside the Richard’s gifts—the rose and the invitation—I realized what he wanted. The question was, was I ready? This was what I’d wanted for so long. He was what I wanted. From a relationship standpoint, fro

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-10-13

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Just like him

    A few mornings later, as I poured a cup of coffee from my French press, I glanced up at the TV. The news scroll at the bottom announced that Senator Peterson had been arrested for the murder of his girlfriend, Alexis Moore. Two reporters on television sat at a glass desk with their feet on the rungs of their stools and a page of notes in front of them. I turned it up. A woman with overprocessed hair and shiny pink lipstick and wearing a bright yellow dress leaned toward a black man in a dark gray suit and blue tie as he said, “It begs the question, is our legal system broken? When shrewd, manipulative attorneys like Thena Robert can get a man like Senator Peterson, an accused sexual predator, acquitted, is she to blame? Is it our legal system? Was it the fault of the jury? Or did something unnatural happen in that courtroom?” “That’s right, Barry. Our panel of experts is here to discuss the law and sexual predators this morning,” the blonde said. Barry gave the lead-in. “Senator P

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-10-13

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Bondage

    Bondage. Discipline. Sadism. Masochism. On my laptop, the screen filled with images of beautiful women tied with black rope. With red rope. And placed into positions that compromised their movement. It held them. It kept them from moving, walking, or running away. I wanted to be them. I wanted to feel the rope on my skin. And more than anything in the world, I wanted to fight against it. Richard hadn’t tied me up, so to speak. If anything, our encounter had been vanilla. I wanted more. He said he was a dominant man, why hadn’t he shown me that side of himself? In life I felt restricted. By my family and by rules. By the law. By the life I’d made. That was the reason I tombstoned. Because facing the risk head-on freed me from the restrictions of life. Of my life.Could bondage free me in ways that tombstoning could not? I wondered. Could fighting against rope metaphorically untie me from guilt and shame? What if letting Richard call the shots—take control—could absolve me? I needed

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2022-10-13

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  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Leave

    The bed was still warm where Richard’s body had lain, but my lover was gone. In bare feet, I padded to the kitchen and found a pile of torn paper on the counter. Our dominant/submissive contract, in pieces. Beside it, a bright pink sticky-note—a love-note with his handwriting—stuck to the black granite counter. As a submissive, you have all the control. Love, Richard.He’d told me that before, and I never grasped the meaning. Yet when I thought of our relationship as a whole, I realized Richard gave me everything I ever needed. He gave me punishment when I asked for it. He gave me space when I—like a child having a temper tantrum—walked away from him. Through it all, he had been there for me in every way I needed. He loved me. And I loved him. Where do we go from here?I pulled up his number on my cell phone and dialed. The call went to voicemail, but I left a message. “Hey. Thanks for stopping by last night.” I didn’t know what to say. “I . . . uh, I wanted to see if you’ll go on a

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Kisses

    Natasha sat on the bed and leveled the rifle at me while I got a pair of jeans and a shirt out of my suitcase. He ripped them from my hand and threw them into the closet. “Where is the dress I sent to you? The one you wore at the fundraiser.”I snarled, “I threw it in the trash.” “A shame. Find something else. Something nice!”I held up a sleeveless black dress and he seemed satisfied. I dressed behind the closed bathroom door then put on a pair of black high heels.Natasha’s beady eyes followed me like a coyote seeking fresh prey. “Where is your diamond collar?”I’d left it here the last time I returned to Chicago. The black velvet box sat on top of the dresser still. Natasha saw where my gaze landed and prodded me with the rifle. “Wear it.” I clipped the necklace around my throat as Natasha came to my side to examine the jeweled collar. My shoulder. My hair. His touch sickened me. He clasped his hand around my throat and squeezed. “He marked you with this. He thinks he owns you.

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Return

    He said he’d be there for me when I returned. Since the weekend trip was short, I packed a small bag that included a bathing suit, change of clothes and one sheath dress for dinner the night before my dive. On the late-night two-hour flight from Chicago to Burlington, Vermont, I perused Google’s list of top sights near Lake Champlain. I’d never before been to South Burlington, where American history and museums abounded. My finger hovered over the link to the Church Street Marketplace—an outdoor shopping mall that stretched four blocks. It brought to mind the horrific day Roman was kidnapped. I shut my laptop and lay my head back on the headrest. I envied the woman sleeping across the aisle from me. Her deep breathing sounded peaceful. That kind of contentment felt out of my reach.At seven-thirty last night, Greg had driven me to The Office Bar, where I met with Charlie Reid for a much needed pep-talk. She walked me through a plan to help Bohdi Michaels avoid the twenty-year priso

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   The floor

    I spent a week in Chicago, visiting Roman and diving into work. I avoided Richard because I needed time to think things through. Richard said he loved me. He’d done everything in his power to help find Roman. Then he donated the one million dollars to the battered women’s shelter.I needed to go to him. I needed to see if he could give me what I wanted.I stepped into the dimly lit Lake Forest house with my agenda at the forefront of my mind. With the FBI team gone, an unusual sense of quiet had settled over the house. Security guards hung around quietly minding their own business, yet ever watchful.The scar on my leg ached. I dropped my things in the bedroom and went to the one place where my dark fantasy could be realized. Where the security guards would not be. The dungeon. In the basement, I pushed open the unlocked door to Richard’s playroom. As if he’d been expecting me, red nightlights on two walls cast long shadows of the X-rack and a coffin-sized cage. My eyes adjusted, an

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Black

    A heavy-set man in a black suit opened the tall glass doors of Red Lace Escort Service for us. I recognized him as the man who—weeks earlier—handed me the titanium business card with Bohdi’s number. He pulled back his jacket and showed us his pistol. I followed Richard into the brightly lit office, where two other thugs were waiting. One stood near the office door with his automatic rifle in hand. One had been reclining on the fuchsia loveseat and when we walked in he sat up at attention, pointing his Uzi our way. I had left my Browning with Greg. Curbelo had outfitted us both with bullet-proof vests. The heavy armor made my breathing shallow. I wore the micro-transmitter—a necklace that looked like a tear-drop pendant—because Curbelo was afraid Richard would be frisked.“Ms. Robert,” the heavy man said. “’Dis way.” He pointed to the hall that lead to Angelique’s office but didn’t follow us. I understood now that the organization wanted me to represent Bohdi because they didn’t think

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Overnight

    Fy scorched me inside. If Richard knew something about Roman’s disappearance, he’d have hell to pay. Once we arrived at Lake Forest, I flew around the house looking for him. He wasn’t in the kitchen, nor was Grant. The empty black leather desk chair in his office faced the window as if watching for someone to return.Two at a time, I leapt up the stairs and opened the Kendo room door—hushed quiet. I exited quickly. Down the hall to my left, Richard’s stark bedroom. I swung the door wide and let it crash into the wall behind it. Benjamin Kyle stared back at me.“Richard?” I called.No answer. Frustrated and angry, I backed out of the room and right into Jonathan’s arms.“Thena. I—”“What the hell, Richard?” I backed away from him and faced him head on. “This is your fault!” I was furious. I was frightened. I was losing control.“I’m so sorry.” Richard didn’t say a word in his defense. He looked me in the eye. “I’m calling FBI Agent Curbelo now. We need to inform her.” Richard already h

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Removed

    I removed my suit jacket before climbing into the air-conditioned Mercedes. Disheartened, I sank into the leather seat and looked at my phone. I called Bohdi Michaels, and he picked up on the second ring.“Ms. Robert?”“I have a question for you.”Greg slid into the driver’s seat and started to put the car in gear. I held up my hand, asking him to wait till I finished. “Go ahead,” Michaels said.“I’ve just visited your psychiatrist—”“Oh, Jesus!”“—I need him as a character witness. So I asked him a few questions.” Bohdi’s reaction made me think he’d really opened up to his doctor. I suddenly worried what might be exposed if I put him on the stand.“Why him?”“Because Dr. Beaman is a respected professional who knows you well. Trust me, it’s a good call.”“Okay,” he softened. “I trust you.”“Slater would need a court order to have your records released. And I can see no reason your medical information would be necessary for this court hearing. But that doesn’t mean Slater won’t call f

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   The talent

    Sticky sweat glued our bodies together. Satiated and basking in the incandescence, we moved slowly, unwilling to let go. I wanted to lie in his arms until Natasha’s threat and all that surrounded it disappeared. I could love Richard.When finally the source of summer heat sank beneath the horizon, I opened a window and let in a cooling breeze. Our stomachs growled. Richard and I sat up from my bed. His hand on my back. My fingers on his cheek. His lips on my shoulder. I donned panties and a t-shirt—still too hot to wear anything else. Richard slid into his slacks and hung his shirt to smooth the wrinkles. He took a call in the bathroom. When he exited wearing only his slacks, Richard said he checked in with Greg and Erik. The second shift bodyguards had arrived so they could get dinner. They would stand watch in the building lobby and the underground garage.“Let me cook for you,” he said.“I didn’t know you had the talent.”“There is much you still don’t know about me.”Truer words

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Collab

    The presence of the security team at Richard’s mansion reminded me of Travis King, the bodyguard who had attacked me, and how even they might be swayed to turn against us by the promise of power . . . or a deeper purse than Richard’s. They made me leery.For the rest of the day I worked in solitude on my laptop from the bedroom. Richard—busy with work and his own investigation—checked on me several times. Richard had a private team of analysts looking for ways to avoid giving Natasha the money. We discussed the limited options which included shipping me off to someplace remote and having the FBI make an arrest during the handoff. He seemed preoccupied but never too distracted to forget to kiss me or rub my shoulders. Every moment brought us closer together.I began to long for more time with him. His woodsy fragrance. His caress. It had been too long since we’d been intimate. With Bohdi Michaels’ trial weeks away, I looked deeper into terrorist groups and specifically the Russian maf

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