Empire of Sin: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Rina Kent

  But the press wouldn’t leave this alone. There are support groups and women organizations involved now and they all have their eyes on how the prosecutor will handle this case.

  Sandra had a restraining order against Matt, but she got her recent bruises when she went back home to get something and he suddenly showed up and beat her again for daring to go against him.

  Which is why she decided to sue him civilly as well.

  Point is, the prosecutor could take the criminal case to trial any time now. Especially since Matt’s defense attorney used every trick under the sun and underhanded methods to push the civil case forward. I assume they’re counting on Sandra to freak out and handle the civil case poorly, which will give the prosecutor all the reasons to dismiss the criminal case.

  I don’t trust the prosecutor. I don’t trust the whole fucking system, which means in order for Sandra to get her justice in both cases, I need to twist his arm with evidence I will present in the civil trial.

  “Let’s brainstorm, Lauren. We have to get more media attention and for that, we need to play harder on their emotions.”

  Even though I’m sure Anastasia won’t like it. But this is what she asked for and this is what I’m going to give her.

  And the world.

  17

  ANASTASIA

  I step out of Knox’s office, but I couldn’t follow Sandra even if I wanted to. My legs shake so badly that they’re hardly holding me up.

  So I lean against the wall in the corner to catch my breath. I really don’t think I’m fit for comforting people.

  I’ve never been good at it.

  Being raised to remain in the background put shackles on me—like never standing out. Never offering a hand or a shoulder to cry on.

  My cousin, Rai, is the only woman who’s been by my side since Mom died, and while she loves me, she didn’t need any comforting from me. She’s strong, stronger than some men, and I’ve never seen her weak.

  She also treated me with kid gloves as if one wrong touch would break me.

  A twinge spreads in my chest when I think of her reaction to my disappearance. She must be so disappointed in me, so angry.

  But I can’t afford to think about the family I left. Not now.

  My fingers tremble as I retrieve my phone and scroll to one of the few pictures I have with Mom and Babushka. I was so young at the time, probably four, and I’m sitting on Mom’s lap, giggling uncontrollably.

  I’m a carbon copy of her, whether it’s the white-blonde hair, the deep blue eyes, or the tiny features. But she always looked broken, tired, almost as if she was exhausted of existing.

  Mom wasn’t the type to smile, but she has a small smile in the picture as she stares at me. Babushka is grinning, too, her entire attention also on me.

  These two women loved me unconditionally and if fate had worked in different patterns, I would’ve been able to recreate this image.

  The more I continue staring at the picture, the more it anchors me, giving me a sense of safety.

  “I’ll always be with you, even when I’m far away, Ana.” That’s what my mother used to say and as a child, I could feel her close, near me.

  Now, too.

  And I have to do the right thing. I have to be there for Sandra, even while knowing who stands with her father.

  Even while knowing that I could be compromised.

  But I can’t just abandon someone who’s asking for help. How is that any different from abandoning my own mom?

  After hiding the phone, I walk to the bathroom, where I expect Sandra to be. However, I find her near the window, grabbing her chest and leaning forward.

  I hurry toward her, then stop a safe distance away so I don’t startle her. “Are you okay?”

  She slowly lifts her head, the tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Uh…yeah…I think so.”

  “I know he was harsh, but he’s really good at what he does, so trust the process, okay?”

  “Maybe he’s right. If I…can’t handle this with people who are on my side, how am I going to do in court? In front of him? I’m going to make a fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

  “No, don’t say that.” I approach her slowly. “You are a brave girl, Sandra. Not many are as brave as you and that deserves to be worn as a badge of honor.”

  A small smile peeks through the tears. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “It’s not just words. I believe them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…my mother was abused when I was younger and I didn’t have the power to protect her. There hasn’t been a day in my life where I didn’t blame myself for being useless, but there’s one thing I don’t regret.”

  Her lips part. “What?”

  “Asking for help when I could, even if it was from someone who’s cold.”

  “Cold like Knox?”

  “Worse. But you know, people like them bring in results. They’re well aware of how jerks think and can counter them efficiently, so you’re in good hands.”

  “Really? Should I trust him?”

  I don’t miss the hesitation in her voice, the way she hugs herself and touches her elbows. So I don’t think twice when I say, “You should.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “With anything legal? I do.”

  She sniffles, so I reach into my pocket, then give her a tissue. Sandra wipes her tears and peeks at me through her long lashes. “You’ll be there during the whole trial, right?”

  I gulp. Being in court means the possibility of running into someone from my previous life, and that sure as hell isn’t going to happen. “I’m from the IT department so I really shouldn’t be around.”

  “Please.” She clutches my hands. “You’re the only friendly face I know. I already asked Knox and he agreed to have you on the team.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can. So even if I’m not there in person, I’ll call you prior to the trial. You can also call me whenever you like.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes shine with fresh tears.

  “We…should probably go back.”

  Her smile falls, but she tightens her hold on my hand while we walk back to Knox’s office.

  We find Lauren, Chris, and him deep in conversation about the case. They’re throwing around legal terms that I don't recognize and at such a fast pace that I can't keep up.

  When they finally notice us, they halt their conversation.

  Lauren smiles and Chris releases a long breath, but Knox doesn’t act the least bit relieved. If anything, he appears calm, way too calm, as if the episode didn’t happen in the first place.

  His eyes meet mine for a brief second. They’re sharp and dark, as if I’m staring into the haunted soul of a completely different person.

  The moment barely lasts before he slides his attention to Sandra. “We’ll resume where we left off. If you run away again, you can find yourself another attorney.”

  I glare at him when she goes stiff, but he ignores me the whole time he continues to prep Sandra. His questions are still harsh, but he does pause when he sees her having a hard time.

  I don’t think anyone notices, but it’s like he’s also taking a break. At first, I think I’m making things up and he’s only doing it for Sandra’s sake, but then I focus on him—like, really focus.

  He’s flipping through a document, and although his movements are calm and measured, they’re longer than usual—as if he’s enduring something.

  As if he’s in the midst of a crisis and he needs to remain calm for it.

  His shoulders crowd with tension and his eyes are still dark, less gold, less bright. Almost as if the color has been sucked out of them.

  There’s something else, too. His breathing, it’s short and clipped, and his chest rises and falls in a slightly irregular rhythm. But when he speaks next, his voice is still in that calm range, as if it’s disconnected from the rest of him.

  By the time he announces we’re done for the day, everyone appears drained.
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  Not him.

  He looks furious. Almost like he has otherworldly energy accumulating inside him and he can’t get rid of it.

  Or won’t.

  I want to stay behind and…do what exactly? It’s not like I can ask him what’s wrong and actually get an answer.

  But I can try…right?

  For some reason, it feels like he shouldn’t be alone right now; if he is, some sort of a disaster will follow.

  I’m probably reading too much into it. In what world is Knox not okay? He always appears to be put-together and so perfect, I’m kind of envious.

  And okay, maybe I’ve often wondered what I’d see if I reached into his armor and took a peek.

  Maybe he’s not so perfect on the inside, maybe there’s a haunted, troubled part I could see for myself.

  “Jane?” Sandra’s voice pulls me away from my hyperfocus on him.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you walk me out?”

  “Sure.” I steal one last glance at Knox, but he’s concentrating on some paperwork, so I leave without even a glimpse of his golden gaze.

  Isn’t it weird that I have an unhealthy phobia of eye contact, but I crave it with him?

  That should be strange.

  Abnormal.

  And yet, it’s all I keep thinking about for the rest of the day.

  His eyes, his perturbed state.

  Him.

  I contemplate texting him, so I type.

  Are you okay?

  Then I delete the text before I send it. We’re not really on good terms, especially after yesterday’s public unprotected sex incident.

  But even after I get home, I’m not looking forward to my lonely night where I’ll eat leftovers and spend the rest of my evening searching the internet for what the men in my old life are up to. I’ll be focusing over every detail and be a paranoia freak.

  I sit in my dimly lit studio apartment. It’s shabby and old, but it’s not in a bad neighborhood, so I don’t have to worry about unwanted attention.

  My typing slows and I stare blankly at the hundreds of pages open on my laptop.

  Is this how I’m going to be for the rest of my life? On the run, obsessed, and always scared?

  The thought of Babushka being hurt forces my hands to carry on the spying mission. If any of them find out what I’m doing—

  I shake my head, refusing to think about the consequences. It’s not that I’m doing something wrong; I’m only trying to protect myself and my grandma.

  The doorbell rings and I freeze, then immediately close my laptop.

  Holy shit.

  They found me.

  “Deep breaths,” I whisper to myself in a shaky tone. “They can’t find me. I used a firewall, I blocked my IP address. There’s no way in hell they can find me.”

  Unless Kirill and Aleksander suspected something and followed me?

  No, no. They would’ve been here yesterday if that were the case. Hell, they would’ve grabbed me by the hair in the restaurant and dragged me back instead of letting me go.

  But what if Kirill told Adrian?

  Shit. He’s the mastermind of hacking. He could’ve broken through my firewall and intercepted my IP and found me. He’s here now and will—

  “Anastasia, open up, I know you’re in there.”

  My breakdown pauses at that voice. The beautifully accented voice that I would recognize not only from behind closed doors but even if it were coming from underwater.

  A weight slowly lifts off my chest and vanishes into thin air as I head to the entrance.

  I stare through the peephole to make sure it’s him.

  Sure enough, Knox stands there, impatiently waiting for me to open the door, judging by that hard look in his eyes.

  And it dawns on me then.

  Knox is here. In front of my shabby apartment, and he wants me to let him in.

  I have to take a moment to breathe.

  To not let all the gloomy feelings from earlier manifest in front of him.

  When I feel marginally better, I open the door.

  No amount of moments or deep breaths could’ve prepared me for how sinfully attractive he looks.

  For the way his hair is styled and how his clothes are impeccably in place, even after a whole day at work.

  It’s unfair.

  So, so unfair that he’s physical perfection no one else can match.

  It’s also unfair that he was my first, and now, I can’t see any other man but him. The bar is just too high for anyone else to reach, not that I would allow them.

  He ruined me.

  Corrupted me.

  And I keep wanting more.

  “How did you find out where I live?” I whisper.

  “Your résumé.”

  “Why are you here—”

  My words end with a moan because he’s grabbing me by the throat and slamming his lips against mine.

  18

  KNOX

  There are times when I can control the shadows and times when they control me.

  This is the second instance.

  I haven’t been able to get rid of them since this morning. They’ve been looming and spreading over me until their gray clouds are the only thing I breathe, see, or touch.

  That’s how I found myself at Anastasia’s flat.

  I resisted not seeing her, especially when I’m in this state. I don’t let anyone see me with my shadows, not even my twin sister.

  But I desperately needed the distraction. I needed to feel the heat of her body and hear the tiny gasps she makes when I take her by surprise.

  Like now.

  She lets out small noises in my mouth as her fingers latch to my side. I kick the door to her flat shut and back her up with my hold on her neck. Her pulse throbs beneath my fingers as if she’s caught by the same adrenaline wave that’s holding me hostage, and I grab her throat tighter until I’m her only anchor.

  And she’s mine.

  Because even now, I’m still surrounded by those shadows, and they’re vicious and harsh, needing a pound of flesh.

  Hers.

  She makes them feel bare, and they don’t like that. They don’t like being exposed or weakened or even seen.

  And she did see them. Today. Back in the office. When no one even thought twice about my state of being, she was staring at me funny, as if she could make eye contact with them.

  Sense them.

  Drag them the fuck out.

  So this is vengeance. This is their way to taint her, tarnish her, and ruin her so badly that she’ll no longer dare to make eye contact.

  That she’ll run the other fucking way when she notices them.

  My tongue thrusts to the roof of her mouth and I kiss her with a savageness that hardens my dick and twists my fucking spine.

  But I don’t stop.

  Not when she gasps.

  Not when she trembles.

  And definitely not when her feet fail her with my relentless movements.

  I hold her upright by the throat, squeezing until she opens her mouth wider, probably to breathe. But I claim that mouth, I suck on her tongue, then nibble down so hard, I’m surprised I don’t taste blood.

  Her moans and whimpers are music to my ears, an aphrodisiac to my fucked-up shadows.

  And they want more.

  So much bloody more.

  When she loses her footing again, I let her fall to the wooden flooring, but I hold her tighter to lessen the impact.

  Her eyes widen when her back meets the ground and I release her lips with one last bite.

  As much as I’d like to keep feasting on her, she needs air. But even as I allow her that, I don’t let go of her throat. She’s the only armor I have against the shadows and there’s no way in fuck I’m releasing her.

  Yes, that’s selfish. Yes, they should probably find me a deeper pit in hell than the one previously designated for me, but that’s all on her.

  She shouldn’t have stopped and stared this morning, shouldn’t
have put her nose where it doesn’t belong.

  Shouldn’t have seen the side of me I keep under wraps.

  But she did and now, she needs to pay for it.

  Anastasia swallows thickly and darts her tongue out to lick her lips that I’ve turned swollen and red. “What…what are you doing?”

  “I’m going to fuck you like it’s your first and last time, my little liar.” Still tightening my hold on her throat, I kneel between her legs and unbuckle my trousers. “You’ll take it, won’t you?”

  For a second, she just stares, her mouth agape. Her legs are still splayed in an awkward angle from the fall. Her baggy hoodie rides up her pale thighs, revealing her white lace panties.

  White and lace.

  Fuck me. The way she dresses beneath the hoodie is nothing like what her new persona is supposed to be. She looks like that icy-haired, blue-eyed stranger from the bar right now. The same stranger who should’ve been a one-time fuck yet turned into so much more.

  But she’s not. She has the glasses on, and she’s still wearing the brown contacts that hide her true eyes from me.

  I begrudgingly release her throat and yank the hoodie over her head. Her tits gently bounce, the rosy peaks taunting me, so I grab both of them and pull her up using them.

  She gasps, then moans when my lips find hers again while I continue pinching her nipples, twisting them as hard as I suck on her tongue.

  She’s trembling, I realize, with anticipation or something else, I don’t know, and at the moment, I don’t have the state of mind to focus on it.

  All I give a fuck about is the feel of her shaking in my arms, her tongue tentatively taking licks of mine, even when she can’t keep up with my pace and her whimpers grow in volume.

  “Ugh…” She tries to pull back, her glasses fogging up. “Knox…d-do something.”

  “Something?”

  “Anything…” Her voice is breathy, low, and so aroused that I feel it through her chest where I’m pinching her taut, throbbing nipples.

  “It’s not going to be anything, it’s going to be filthy and raw. I’ll take your cunt on the floor, and I’m going to fuck it rough, fuck it right, until all you can do is scream.”