Tempted by the Sinner

But I didn’t leave. I took off my dress, put on comfortable clothes, and stewed in that strange bed. I stared at the ceiling, listening to cars drive past outside, and tried to imagine what I’d gain by leaving versus what I’d lose by staying.

In the end, even if there was a chance of getting a good article from all this, I had to see it through.

I couldn’t help myself. I was too curious about that snake, about Vince’s reaction to it, about the way the Don so clearly despised me with all his being.

I had to stay and find out what happened next.

Or maybe, if I was being honest with myself, maybe it was more.

Maybe it was that look Vince had given me when he’d come up the stairs as I left my room to take a shower earlier that night, when he caught me in nothing but a towel wrapped around my chest.

His eyes took me in and I saw hunger there, pure and simple hunger.

It made me writhe and bite my lip.

Sometime around midnight, I drifted off. I had some dreams, restless and surreal, and woke up early with sunlight streaming in through my window. I was groggy as I sat up, rubbed my eyes, tried to understand the strange, unfamiliar room around me.

I took a second to remember that I was living with a total stranger.

I got out of bed, went into the bathroom, got myself together. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, then headed downstairs. The house was quiet, and for a second I thought I’d find it empty.

Instead, I found Vince sitting at the table with a newspaper in front of him.

He looked up and tilted his head. “Morning,” he said.

“Morning.” I drifted toward the table. “Coffee?”

“In the pot,” he said, nodding at the kitchen. “There are bagels in a bag and some cream cheese in the refrigerator if you want.”

“Thanks.” I headed into the kitchen, got myself some coffee and a bagel, put a little cream cheese on it, and drifted back into the main room.

He stared at me and folded down the Wall Street Journal. I nodded at it and cocked my head.

“You don’t read online?” I asked.

“I like physical papers still,” he said. “Grabbed this while I was out.”

“How long have you been awake?”

He shrugged. “I don’t sleep much.”

“Oh, right.” I lingered then walked to the table and sat down. The contract from the night before was gone, swept away and filed at his father’s place already, I’d be willing to bet.

Roberto probably drove over special just to grab it, that weird bald bastard.

“You asked me some questions I never got to answer last night,” he said as I drank my coffee and ate some bagel. “You still want answers?”

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

He leaned toward me. “You can’t write a good article if you’re going to act like that,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Like none of this matters.” He stared at me, a little smile on his face. “You know you can still make it through this, right? My father isn’t omniscient. He’s not everywhere at once.”

“Doesn’t make a difference,” I said, staring at the table. “He has all the power now.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Vince said. “Just do what you can do and let me handle my father.”

I shrugged and turned my head away.

He let out a breath and stood. For a second, I thought he was going to storm off. But instead, he came around the table and dropped the paper next to me.

“Go ahead and read it if you want,” he said. “I’m getting changed. We’re leaving in ten.”

I looked up at him. “I’m not ready yet.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You look perfect.”

“I’m in ripped jeans and an old shirt.”

“Like I said.” He turned away and walked to the steps. I watched him disappear upstairs then turned back to the paper.

It was turned to a page toward the back. The story at the very top read, CRIME BOSS TAKES PLEA DEAL.

I scanned the article and leaned over it. It was about a mobster from Chicago that plead guilty to six counts of murder, two counts of aggravated assault, and a truckload of other financial crimes. Apparently, he was going away for a very, very long time.

I didn’t know what to make of it. I pushed the paper away, finished the bagel as fast as I could, and manage to burn my tongue on the coffee.

Vince came back down ten minutes later in a fresh suit. His hair was pushed back and I had to admit, he looked really good with his top two buttons undone, showing off just a touch of his muscular chest.

“Come on,” he said.

I got up and followed him outside. We got into his BMW and he pulled out into traffic.

“Where are we going?” I asked.