Pretty Sinner (The Oligarchs)

“She’s going to ruin everything. You can’t let her.”

Kaspar sighed and stretched his legs. “How do you know what Erin’s going to do? You two don’t seem to get along.”

“We used to. I know her, Kaspar. She’s vicious and cold and smart, and she won’t stop until she’s got the whole world in her hands.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know her. She’s scary. If she’s unleashed—”

“I won’t let it happen.”

I bit down on my cheek. He stared at me, eyes radiating a sharp intensity. I nearly groaned with the weight of my sister’s life pressing me down into the floor.

“Kill her, Kaspar. Kill her before she does something terrible.”

He stood then. Came to me. He moved with grace. I hated him for it. I didn’t want to want him—didn’t need the feelings he provoked.

Hunger. Desire. Excitement. Terror. Lust.

“You want her dead because of what she did to you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s selfish. You want to kill your own sister. And I can’t blame you, little treasure. When she gave you to me, she broke so many taboos, destroyed the trust you felt, wrecked the bonds of sisters. She did that, not you.”

“That’s not why I want her gone.” I couldn’t meet his eyes, because god, maybe he was right and I was being selfish.

He touched my cheek and guided my eyes to his.

“Answer me honestly. Do you want revenge on your sister?”

I considered before I spoke. In some ways, yes, I wanted her punished for what she did.

And in others, I was grateful.

Kaspar wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t a bad person, either—he was a complicated mix of both things. He was dark and light, Heaven and Hell. He was a complicated man and the true depths of him were only becoming apparent in the last few days.

Killer and savior. Saint and sinner.

Erin gave me to him, to this monster, to the man that cared about me more than anyone in the world. He would never do what Erin did. He would never leave.

I saw it every time he looked in my direction.

Devotion, nearly religious in its ecstasy.

I was his north star. I was his goddess.

It was painful at first. The intensity of his attention and need for me was overwhelming. I couldn’t face it head-on. I tried to run.

He won me over all those years ago. And he won me over again, despite my better judgment.

I remembered what happened last time. Alice on the floor, his strong hands wrapped around her throat. I saw it like a dream.

He wasn’t lying about Alice and Maeve. The more I thought back to those days, the more it became obvious. All the red flags I ignored, all because it felt good to have a friend. Alice was a liar, an enigma, a false facade papered over a black heart.

She drugged me. For a long time, I refused to admit it. I thought I fell asleep because I was so exhausted from the day—it had happened before.

But when Kaspar told me the truth about Alice, it all came back.

How I drank my water bottle and blacked out almost right away. Nobody fell asleep like that, not without some help.

Alice slipped something in my water while I was in the bathroom.

I refused to let myself see. The truth was too painful. It hurt far too much.

My friend wanted to kill me. She was going to plunge a knife in my heart.

Kaspar saved my life that day.

He did it in a brutal and awful way—but he still did it.

That was Kaspar. He did things however he wanted.

If Erin hadn’t given me to him, I never would’ve realized the truth. I never would’ve come to this conclusion.

I would’ve continued on, ignoring the obvious facts of what happened, all because I couldn’t face losing my friend for a second time.

Once to death, and again to reality.

Erin gave me Kaspar, and he gave me new life.

I owed her something for that. In a sick way, she did me a favor. So while I hated her for selling me out, I loved her for it, too.

Which made everything so much more complicated.

“I don’t know,” I said finally, guts wrenching.

“Then I won’t kill her until you’re sure.” He leaned down and kissed me, lips soft and warm against mine. I shivered and pressed myself hard against him, needing his strength, his body, his arms.

The kiss deepened as I lost myself.

Kaspar was all-consuming. I was playing a dangerous game. If I continued down this path and let his lips and hands do their filthy work, if I let him sink his cock between my legs and make me scream, make me sweat, make me come—if I gave him more, and more, and more, he’d keep on taking, keep on pulling me into himself until there was nothing left of me.

And the scary part was, I wanted it.