Owned by a Sinner (Sinners 2)

When I get back to the reception desk, Denise gives me an encouraging look. “You’ve been summoned to the executive floor. Good luck.”

Crap.

“Did I do anything wrong?”

She quickly shakes her head. “No, Finn probably just wants to get to know you. He does it randomly.”

“If I’m not back in thirty minutes, come save me,” I joke before walking toward the elevators.

On my way up, my nerves tighten my stomach into a hard knot.

Gosh, it feels like I’m going for the interview all over again.

When the elevator doors open, I force a smile to my lips, hoping it looks natural.

Devon, the executive floor secretary, gives me a professional smile. The man seems to have it down to an art form. I can definitely learn a thing or two from him.

“Mr. Byrne is waiting.” Devon gestures at the hallway to the right of us. Wearing a dark gray suit, he fits perfectly in with his luxurious surroundings. “The office at the end of the hallway. Just go in.”

“Thank you.” I wipe my palms nervously on my sides as I glance at all the cream, black, and gold décor. The art on the walls and sleek modern offices behind glass walls look expensive. The lavishness is a bit overwhelming and intimidating.

Reaching the end of the hallway, I can’t see past the frosted glass on the sides of the door. I suck in a fortifying breath of air, then knock.

“Come in.”

My hands still feel sweaty as I take hold of the knob, and opening the door, I make sure my smile is in place.

The first thing I notice as I step inside is a leather couch to my right. Finn stands up from behind an impressive desk that’s all steel and glass. He gestures at one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

His eyes track my every step, and only once I’m sitting down does he take a seat again. For an unnerving moment, he just stares at me, the slight smile on his face doing nothing to set me at ease.

“I’ve read your file.”

Not knowing what else to do, I just nod.

“You didn’t study further after finishing high school.”

God, please don’t let him fire me because of my lack of experience.

“I’m a hard worker.”

“I’m sure you are,” he chuckles. “Gina seems to be happy with you.”

If the head of HR is happy with my work, it’s a good thing, right?

“Tell me about yourself,” he says as he casually leans back in his high-back chair, his eyes narrowing on me.

I always dread that question because I never know how to answer it. “Ah… I’m twenty-four.” Gosh, I suck at this. “Born and raised in Chicago.”

Lifting an eyebrow, he says, “I’ve already read that in your file.”

The ball of nerves that used to be my stomach tightens even more.

“What is your weakness?”

“Donuts,” I answer honestly, then let out an awkward chuckle. “I can eat a dozen if someone doesn’t stop me.”

I could eat a dozen right now.

Finn’s lips curve up into a pleased smile. “And your greatest strength?”

“Endurance. I’m not scared to work hard.”

This is better. This I can do.

“Why did you want to work here?”

The stiffness leaves my smile, and my nerves ease a little. “There’s lots of space for growth. I feel I can achieve and contribute a lot at Byrne Enterprises.”

Finn nods, and tilting his head, his smile widens, “Now tell me about yourself.”

Feeling much better than when I walked into his office, the answer comes naturally, “I love helping others. During the holidays, I volunteer wherever I’m needed, whether it’s at a soup kitchen or animal shelter. I love being outdoors. I can sit in the park for hours just feeding the pigeons.”

Finn stares at me for the longest moment, then asks, “Would you mind working after hours?”

I quickly shake my head. “No. Like I said, I’m a hard worker. Whatever the company needs.”

Slowly, he nods. “That’s good to hear.” He gestures to the door. “You can get back to work.”

Rising to my feet, I take a second to say, “Thank you for the opportunity. I really appreciate it.”

When I turn around and leave the office, I feel his eyes burning on my back.

You did good.

I think.

Chapter 3

Liam

The past month has been so fucking busy, I’m exhausted. Stepping off my private jet, a tired smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I walk toward my uncle.

Cillian might be my father’s younger brother, but they’re nothing alike. There have been many times when I’ve wished Cillian was my father. My own is only interested in profits, and lately, traveling the world.

Cillian gives me a lopsided grin. “You look like shit.”

Letting out a chuckle, I give him a very quick hug. I hate being touched. There’s no reason for it. I’ve just always despised any form of physical contact.