Taken by a Sinner (Sinners 1)

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.

Chapter 20

Tess

Mom’s stalking up and down in the living room while Peter sits like a king on his throne, bushy eyebrows drawn in a tight pinch.

My knee bounces nervously, my hands in tight fists on my lap.

The moment Nikolas walks into the living room with Christos and another man right behind him, I struggle not to dart up and lay into him.

“What’s–”

Peter holds up a hand, silencing Mom. Rising from the chair, he looks at his son. “Explain why you arranged a marriage between Christos and Theresa.”

Nikolas meets his father’s gaze with zero fear. Right now, the current head of the Greek mafia is facing off with the retired Godfather.

My stomach sinks into my shoes.

“The deal has been made.” Nikolas’ voice is grim, leaving no space for argument. “Christos will be good to Theresa.” His eyes snap to me. “She should be thankful. I could’ve chosen a much worse suitor for her.”