Stolen by a Sinner (Sinners 3)

I clearly didn’t think this through when I bought the dress for her.

Lara looks like a goddess and nothing like the maid I stole from Mazur.

I hate that other men will get to see her in the dress.

When I reach her, I take hold of her chin, tip her face up, and plant a possessive kiss on her lips so everyone will see she’s mine.

Pulling back, I say, “You look breathtaking, Ödülüm.” Taking a step backward, my eyes drift over her body. “I hate that other men will see your beauty.” Locking eyes with her again, I order, “Don’t you dare leave my side tonight.”

“Okay.” She smiles, and I almost bark for her to stop because it makes her eyes sparkle like stars.

I’m probably going to kill the first fucker who looks at her.

Christ, help me.

Taking her hand, I link our fingers and pull her to my side. “I’d much rather take you to my bedroom and strip you out of that dress than attend this party,” I mutter under my breath so the guests near us won’t hear.

Glancing down at Lara, I see the excitement on her face as she looks at the décor, the food, and the guests.

It’s her first party, asshole. Let her enjoy it.

I lead her to my grandmother.

“Lara, you look beautiful,” my grandmother beams. Her eyes dart between us. “This is the best birthday gift ever. It’s all I wanted.”

“It’s a lovely party,” Lara says, the smile not leaving her face.

“Pfft.” Babaanne gestures between Lara and me. “I’m talking about you and Gabriel. I’m happy you’re a couple.”

Happiness shines from Lara, making her sparkle like a diamond. “Me too.”

“I’m going to make the toast.” Giving Lara a pointed look, I say, “Stay with my grandmother.” I glance at Emre. “No one comes near her.”

“Evet,” he mutters as he moves in behind Lara.

I walk to the small podium and tap on the microphone. Everyone goes quiet and turns to face me.

Christ, I hate this.

Clearing my throat, I say, “I want to thank you all for attending my grandmother’s eighty-fourth birthday. She doesn’t look a day over forty-eight, right?” There’s a chorus of agreement.

A server brings me a flute of champagne, and I hold it up. “To the most amazing woman who raised Emre and me. Happy birthday, Babaanne.”

Cheers erupt from the guests. I take a sip of the bubbly liquid, then make my way back to Lara.

“Short and sweet,” Emre jokes.

I give my cousin a scowl. “The next time you give the toast.”

“There’s no next time, remember,” he chuckles.

The music resumes, and setting down the glass on a nearby table, I hold my hand out to my grandmother. “May I have this dance?”

“Of course.” She places her palm in mine, and I lead her to the middle of the room. Pulling her into my arms, I look into the eyes of the woman who dried my tears and guided me through this life. It’s rare for me to say the words, but as I start to move with her over the floor, I murmur, “Seni çok seviyorum.” (I love you so much.)

She gives my hand a squeeze. “Gözümün nuru.”

Hearing her call me the light of her eye, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

I glance to where I left Lara in Emre’s care and frown when I see Arnold Forbes, a wealthy businessman, talking to them.

The moment the song ends, I take my grandmother back to Emre and pull Lara to my side.

“Gabriel, so nice to see you,” Arnold says, holding his hand out to me.

I take it in a firm grip. “Likewise. I hope you enjoy the party.”

Pulling Lara to the floor, I ask, “Can you dance?”

“No.”

“Just follow my lead.” I tug her to my chest, then smile down at the nervous expression on her face. “I won’t let you trip.”

“Okay.”

Her eyes are locked on mine as I start to move, her body obeying mine.

Lara’s smile is filled with wonder as I steer her across the dance floor, then she murmurs in absolute awe, “I’m dancing.”

The music builds to a crescendo, and I spin her away from me. The shawl takes flight before floating to the floor. Suddenly Lara stumbles, and I dart forward to catch her by her shoulders, so she doesn’t fall.

“I’ve got you,” I chuckle.

Lara stands frozen, her lips parted, her face pale.

Tilting my head, I try to catch her eyes. “Lara?”

The next moment I hear gasps, my eyes snap up, and I notice the guests are staring at Lara with horrified expressions.

What the fuck?

I feel a tremor rock through her body, drawing my attention back to her. “Lara, are you okay?”

Slowly, she nods.

Nisa appears out of the crowd, her face tight with worry as she picks up the shawl. “Lara?”

What the hell is going on?

Noticing everyone is staring at Lara’s back, I move around her, then shock shudders through me with the force of a tsunami.