Make Me Sin (Dark Gods #1)

Chapter 10

My eyes snap open. Although the room seems totally empty now, I know there was someone there. I try to shake off the alcohol and take a look around me, but I can't see anyone else except my sorry ass. Fuck, it must've been one of those dreams.

It's almost impossible to get out of bed and properly search the place. My head feels like it's going to explode, and I can't ignore the throbbing sensation in my body. I can still feel the dampness of the lips that were roaming my skin. And they can’t be Nick’s. He hasn't played with me like that since… almost forever.

I might be completely mental, but my dress is on the floor and my panties well beyond my knees. What the fuck happened? I feel my breath picking up as I slide my hand down my stomach straight over my pussy then down my thigh. I feel the same moisture there. On exactly that path where I remember the lips caressing my body. And then there is a slight pain, like I bumped into something and gave myself a bruise.

Fuck, even my tits hurt, and as I drive my hands over them to ease the suffering, I feel the same moisture there. The same lips were feasting on them. But whose? My body is still shaking from the memory. I don't know if it was real or not, but I do know I want it to go on, so I close my eyes, forcing myself to go back to sleep. I don't know where the mystery man went, but I'm going to get him back—at least that's what I tried to convince myself, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to pick up where we left off. I can't remember if I succeeded in finding him or not, but I did manage to fall straight asleep.

Who is the idiot that left the curtains open? Oh yeah, I think that would be me. I could punch myself, feeling the sunrise burning on my face like I'm a fucking vampire.

Did I swallow a speaker last night? That's what it sure feels like because my head is thumping with a rhythm that's gonna send me to the hospital. I somehow manage to stand up, even though I feel my head is so heavy that I’m gonna fall face down on the ground any moment.

I think I have some pills in my luggage. Anything to calm this pain.

Jackpot.

I find an orange box of painkillers. I don't even care what kind of pills they are. I just throw two on the back of my tongue and crash back on the bed for a couple of minutes until they kick in.

I'm not sure those couple of minutes were really just that. The sun is burning much more fiercely now that I open my eyes.

Damn, I didn't get the chance to pull back the drapes.

This time I can manage to do more than just stand. The pills helped, just not as much as I wanted to. I don't even remember drinking enough to feel this way. I blame it on my mood. And on Nick. He’s the main reason for everything that's been going wrong in my life lately.

Speaking of the devil, I walk … okay, more like crawl to the other bedroom to see if he's in. In a way, I don’t want to find him in there, but as I open the door, I see him sound asleep between the pillows.

This is a new low in our relationship. He didn't even come to sleep in the same bed with me. That says something about us. It's the confirmation I needed to finally get it through my thick skull—we don't stand a chance anymore. Still, I can’t overcome the sadness that's sneaking up on me. We could have been so good together. I refuse to think otherwise.

But now… now, I feel like we're two strangers, trying to make the impossible work. Is it too much to ask of a man to make me feel protected? Because that's all I want right now. I don't need money or expensive clothes. I just want to know that I can go out on the street without being someone's target, and right now it feels impossible to have that with Nick, no matter how hard I try.

I don't go back to sleep, just wait for him to wake up and clear things up. I want to know where he's been and how we stand with the plan. He said he'd contact some people. And no matter what he believes, he needs my okay to go ahead with things. I'm not risking my life with who knows what lowlifes he might have picked up from the street.

I'm not gonna sit around doing nothing and just waiting for him. I need a shower, especially after I recall waking up last night from what I'm starting to believe was a very wet dream.

Besides a shower, I also need a real man in my life. But the last time I checked, I was in Vegas. There's not a hope in hell of finding one here. I'm done with gamblers.

I haven't even bothered to put my clothes back on this morning. I have no idea when I threw them on the floor but I suspect it was somewhere between crying my ass off because of this jerk and getting into bed. Yeah, the part I do recall… I only cried because I was drunk. I'm not wasting my tears on him ever again. Still, here I am, wasting my time.

My eyes are still tired because of my getaway last night. That's why I didn't pay that much attention to the reflection in the bedroom mirror, but as I entered the bathroom my eyes stopped on my body. What's that on my inner thigh?

A bruise?

I don't remember getting that.

Jesus, it looks like a hickey. I muse about how I manage to injure myself like that, but as I look further over my body, I see another one right above the line of my panties.

What the fuck is going on here?

I remember I felt something last night, but I was convinced it was only in my imagination.

Did I come home with someone from the club last night?

The thought scares me. I've never done that, and I'm sure I would've remembered at least a part of it. I mean, I do remember I kept crying on the balcony, and I’m pretty sure I was alone there.

I could always call Christina to ask if I left with someone, but she'll probably think I’ve lost my mind. And she wouldn't be wrong there either because there's a knot in the pit of my stomach that won't let me breathe and that damn scent is returning to haunt me. I feel it on my skin like it's seeping into me.

I was expecting to reek of alcohol or best-case scenario, of my favorite perfume. I drained the bottle before I went out last night, not that it had more than a few drops in it. But no, that insane scent fills my lungs. The Seth Malvagio one. I know it's not really his—or at least I don’t think so. It's the whole hotel that smells just like him… like he’s everywhere, breathing and living within the walls.

And that's not everything the scent brings along. Flashes of something pop into my mind, but I can’t tell if they’re memories or fantasies born to fill the hole in my heart. It just feels so fucking real that it scares me. Those lips trailing my skin, the same way they did that night in the desert. And the hands clinging to my body as if it belonged to them. I thought that kind of passion existed only in books. At least that applies when it comes to me, because no man has ever made me feel that way until now—not even Nick.

And that convinces me that I'm only dreaming. The man is just a product of my imagination, meant to disappear at the break of dawn.

Still, there's something bothering me, a small detail that won't give me peace. I felt something last night when my hands fell down my body to grab onto his hair. My dream man had piercings in his ears.

Was I dreaming of Seth Malvagio ?

Why not? I mean I used him in my fantasies, why not in my dreams?

Maybe I should see a priest. I need to be exorcised of him because he's definitely the devil.

There's something wrong with me, I just can't figure out how flawed I am. Maybe I’m beyond redemption because I know I am already without shame.

It takes almost two hours before Nick gets out of bed. He must’ve come back later than I suspected. Not that it was any surprise to me. I'm so used to him not spending the night with me that I sometimes wonder if what we have is actually a real relationship.

“No breakfast in bed, Hun?” he mutters in a sarcastic voice as if I owe it to him to serve him.

I don't know if it's just because of the stress, but I'm starting to think I'm developing an allergy to him.

“You can call room service. It's free, remember,” I snarl implying what a real cheap ass he is. Not that he ever gets the point.

“What got your panties in a twist this time?” He arches an eyebrow, staring at me like I don't have a reason to be pissed off. He’s still playing the fucking victim.

“I'm the one acting out? If I remember correctly, you’re the one who threw a fit like a cranky teenager and stormed out of the suite.” I'm not in the mood to keep quiet anymore. There's something brewing inside of me, and I need to let it out.

“Is this about the ring? Because I think we should postpone it until we finish this job. That was my plan anyway. I don't want to add more pressure on things,” Nick shrugs.

I actually agree with him on this. We don’t need any more pressure on things. We’re already close to blowing through the roof. And that’s without adding the ring into the picture. I don't even want the ring, and I don't want Nick anymore. His behavior convinces me day by day that we’re not going to work. Maybe it's time to let him know that, “You're right about the ring, Nick. We need to deal with the shit you've put us in first. Did you talk with the men you said you would last night?” I ask, pretty sure he spent the night gambling.

“Of course, I talked to them. They'll be here when I call them. I was thinking, we do the drunk gambler, causing a scene, then we sneak through the back and to the safe. I have found just the man for the job. He's a known Vegas gambler. No one would suspect him.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I come off bitchy, but why shouldn't I? It's not because his plan is bad. To my surprise, it could actually work. He wasn't the one who came up with it, obviously. It was a trick my brother once used to break into a casino back in Miami. I just don't like the fact that Nick is using his gambling addiction and implicitly, his buddies, even though it's for the right purposes. Maybe I'm developing an allergy to betting. Funny since we've already bet on our most valuable thing—our lives.

Judging by the look on Nick's face, he's not happy with my attitude. I don't give a damn. He should have thought of that before he snapped at me yesterday. And his behavior didn't improve today either. “Quit with the attitude, Serena. It's only gonna get you in trouble,” he grunts, taking a step toward me.

Is he fucking kidding me right now? “I'm already in trouble, Nick! And it's all your fucking fault! I'm getting sick of being chased down because of your addictions!”

I don't even get to finish the sentence before his heavy palm smashes into my cheek.

For a second, I am speechless. The burning sensation seems to be spreading somewhere inside my head. I can barely keep myself on my feet as the mix of adrenaline with pain almost knocks me to the ground. I can't believe he did it. I never thought he’d hit me again, especially with the heist just a few days away.

“Maybe next time you know to keep that mouth of yours shut.” He stands in front of me with the same anger brewing inside him. It's like he's studying me, waiting for a reaction, maybe even daring me to challenge him again.

Tears are lining up in my eyelids. I don't want to cry. I want to take a knife and kill him. Shit, how did he get from buying me a ring to this?

“I'm done, Nick. I can't do this anymore. I'm leaving.” I don't want to be in the same room with him for a second longer. I want to pack my bags and get out of here. I know it's not the wisest decision, but I can't think straight right now.

“Oh, are you now? I’d love to hear you say no to Seth Malvagio,” he cackles, his laughter almost malicious. He knows I can't go through with it. That's why he had the guts to hit me in the first place. And he's probably right. He's betting on that card. I can't leave this place until the job is done. Men like Malvagio have no mercy. The slap on the face Nick just gave me would feel like a caress compared to what could happen to me if I were to leave Las Vegas right now.

Ugh, I despise Nick so much!

He doesn't even stay to finish off the fight, just walks out the door again without any further explanations.

Fucking coward!

My whole body feels like it’s on the brink of imploding at any second. I'm convinced I'm just moments away from having a stroke. I could punch myself for putting up with him for so long. When did I lose my sense of dignity so badly that I let myself be dragged into this man's mess of a life?

I’ve been hyperventilating for a few good minutes. I still am. The buzzing in my ears is becoming so loud, that I'm starting to believe I'm gonna lose consciousness. Maybe I have no place to go, but I need to get out of the suite. Still, for that to happen, I need to check myself in the mirror. I felt his palm hit a lot harder than usual, and as I catch my reflection, I realize there's already a bruise spreading from the corner of my eye to my cheek.

I could cut his hand off for hitting me, but deep down I know I'm not gonna do anything about it. I never did. I might have been a coward in the past, but now my reasons for not backing down are completely different. Nick probably doesn't even realize what he got us involved in. Seth Malvagio is a very dangerous man, and I'm not risking my life just to get revenge on Nick's outbursts. That doesn't mean I won't deal with them when the time comes. Everything has a price, and I can feel his time for payment approaching.

I can't help myself from internally combusting. My mind feels like it's on overdrive, and I'm trying to convince myself not to blow up like a volcano when he returns. In fact, I was prepared for him not to return until late in the evening—if he even came back at all today. But I guess time isn't running in my favor as he comes back through the door less than two hours after he initially left.

Actually,I'm starting to believe the man who came back isn't even Nick. His attitude is completely gone. And his frown is now replaced by a large grin. “I brought you some cakes.” The corners of his lips raise higher, like he's convinced that he could buy me off with a lousy box of cakes. “Macaroons too,” he adds, like it makes any difference.

Just because he brought me my favorite cakes, doesn't mean it’ll make up for the fact that he hit me. Nothing justifies or compensates for that.

“I'm on a diet,” I mutter, unable to keep up the facade and act civilized.

And if that isn't enough, he pushes the limit just a little bit further by taking a step closer to me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “We started off on the wrong foot ever since we got to Vegas,” he whispers in my ear, ready to make an offer of peace while I feel like his arms are burning through my skin. I want him gone while he's trying his best to get into my good graces again. “Things don't have to be this way between us. I love you, it's just that I'm so fucking stressed over this that I am not thinking straight.”

He's probably right, the stress could well cloud our judgments, but it doesn't mean any of his actions are justified. He can't take his problems out on me. I won't allow him to.”Next time you're stressed, just make sure I don't need three layers of foundation to cover your outbursts.” I try to break free from his arms but they're so tightly wrapped around me that I can barely move.

“I miss you,” he states, catching the back of my neck, and turning me to look at him.

The time when he could win me back with just a few sweet words is long gone. I just turn my other cheek, letting him see the purple bruise forming on my face. “Is that a sign of how you miss me?” I can’t go on pretending that nothing happened.

“I'm sorry, I just lost my temper. Come here, I'll make it up to you.” He pulls me toward him and his lips find the crook of my neck with the speed of light. I used to love it when he did that, the sweet coils his lips provided were unmatched. Now they only seem to make my skin freeze like I'm touched by a blizzard.

Nick must be delusional if he thinks we can just kiss and make up. And still, he seems to insist on moving his hands along my body, like he could turn me on in any way.

“I'm not feeling too good.” I'm telling him the truth. I feel nauseous because his hands are still on me. I don't want him here and I can't pretend to play the nice girl any longer.

“I'm going to make you feel a lot better.” His hands reach beneath my knees, lifting me on his waist, before I get a chance to react in any way.

Is he kidding me? Does he think he can fuck his way out of this?

“Let me down, Nick. I'm not in the mood.” Of course, he doesn't listen and just carries me to the couch. Only there does he let me down, bringing his body to cage me against the plush throw cushions.

How is it that we ended up on the fucking couch again? Not that anything else will happen this time around.

“Nick, stop it,” I ask him again, hoping that it will get through that thick skull of his that I am not in the mood.

“I know I fucked up. I promise once we end this job things will get better. I want to marry you, I want to have a baby with you.”

A baby!? Yeah sure, let's fuck up somebody else's life as well.

I don't want to sound that desperate, but I do try to find a way to extract myself from his grip. “Then let's start again when this is over. Make a fresh beginning. I don't know, maybe even restart our relationship. We're not in a good place, Nick.” I don't get a chance to go on. I'm not even sure I had anything else to say because it was only lies anyway. I don't want to restart anything. I do have feelings for him, they're just not strong enough to keep us going like this.

A sharp bang on the door makes him jump off me and it seems like the building is falling down on us.

I don't get a chance to fix myself before Nick is at the door, letting whoever is on the other side in.

“Mr. Malvagio requests to see you,” I can hear a man's voice coming from somewhere in front of Nick.

At this point, I don't even know what's worse, having a conversation with Nick or meeting with Seth.

“We’ll be ready in an hour,” my boyfriend responds, trying to get the man to leave so we could finish our conversation or whatever he thought we were doing.

The man seems to disagree, though. “Mr. Malvagio isn't going to wait an hour for you. He wants to see you now. ” The tone of his voice warns us that he isn't going to take no for an answer.

I can hear Nick mutter something between his teeth, but that's about all he does. In less than a minute, we’re following the man to the elevator where he enters a fancy security card so that the elevator can take us to the 14th floor.

That zone must have restricted access, and the second we reach the floor, I understand why. It's a penthouse. The place is a building inside the building. I can see the sun through a three-floor glass sky-high ceiling, while a massive chandelier gives me the impression that it could fall down on me at any second.

The architecture is different from the rest of the hotel. It's glamorous and modern, but a lot colder, like someone had sucked the life out of it. The place is illuminated yet at the same time feels as dark as the Mariana Trench.

There's a certain weight hanging in the air and without anyone saying it, I know exactly where we are. Seth's house.

Speaking of the devil, he shows up moments after we arrive, wearing a very angry frown on his face. “What progress have you made by now?” he roars at Nick, making my blood freeze. For some reason, he looks at him like he could rip his head off at any moment. I don't know what crawled up his ass today,but I do know that we need to get out of here.

I just want Nick to answer him so we'll be on our way. Which he does, “We're meeting with the team in a couple of hours. And then Serena and I are going to the Tiger’s Eye to check things out.”

We are?

I don't ask questions. I don't want to sound stupid or uninformed, but Nick better keep me in the loop next time. I thought we had at least a couple of days before we would go and check out the other casino. Seth, however, seems to be in a hurry, which I guess makes us in a hurry as well.

Mr. Malvagio doesn't seem satisfied with Nick's answer. Probably because he knows Nick is bluffing. He just made that up. I don't think he has any plans for today. Maybe just hit the casino again with his team.

“I want this done as fast as possible. There's been a change of plans and I'm going to need that relic,” Seth grunts while turning his eyes in my direction. For a second I think I see his pupils darken while he's staring at me. You know the way someone is looking at you, and you think you have something on your face. That's how I feel him glaring at me, and I do have something on my face. I didn't get a chance to cover the bruise and I'm sure it is showing even stronger by now.

Shit, he probably knows it's Nick’s doing and now thinks it would interfere with our plan.

Nick, you idiot, you're gonna get both of us killed.

I feel the need to step in and explain I am a professional, and I'm not gonna let my idiot boyfriend screw things up when it comes to the heist. He should settle with fucking up the rest of my life until now. But I can't really open my mouth and explain it to him. I don't think it's appropriate, or even normal, to tell him how much of an idiot I am for staying with Nick, even though this time I don't have a choice.

I don't consider Mr. Malvagio to be a man of many words, more like a man of warnings, and I'm not going to take what he said lightly. He's making sure of that by taking a step in my direction to dart straight into my eyes. I suddenly feel weak, like someone has robbed me of all of my power, and gifted it to him. He owns me without saying a word, maybe even without lifting a single finger. I even began to think he’s mastered the power of hypnosis because my eyes can't break from looking into his own. I am scared to death, and at the same time, seduced by an inexplicable force.

He's trying to make a point and it is working. I'm all eyes and ears, but I have a feeling that he keeps staring at the bruise across my cheek. I must look like a new species of eggplant by now, and he seems highly displeased by it.

“You have two days!” He roars a few inches away from my face, and I feel the vibration of his words recoiling off my lips. It feels like poison, a poison that I'm almost tempted to taste. I fight the urge to retaliate. Two days is almost impossible but it's also impossible to say no to him. Instead, I nod that I understand what he wants of me. I don't want to look weak or scared, but that's exactly what I am at this time.

I imagined so many times that when the time came, I’d speak my mind, but my mouth never functions that way. I am the biggest introvert on all levels, even when it comes to running my own life.

Trying to avoid his burning gaze, my eyes stumble to the industrial piercing in his ear, and for a second I feel the piece of metal against my fingers like a recoiling memory returning to hunt me at the worst time possible. Only it's not a memory, it's just a figment of my sick imagination.

I suddenly feel hot. Too hot for my own good. My cheeks are burning and my breasts tense beneath my shirt. I need to see a doctor after this is done. A head doctor that is.

Fighting for a breath of air, I swallow the knot forming in my throat. At this point, I can't even bother trying to fix myself. I just want to survive the day and this meeting with Seth.

It seems I am in luck, Seth just turns and walks away, but not before he takes another look at the bruise across my face. Now I feel it's burning much harder through my skin. It's not the pain, it's the weight of Seth’s gaze. I know I'm trying to ignore the gravity of this just to maintain my sanity, but I'm starting to think I just lost it along the way. I'll deal with everything when the time comes. I can't do it if I'm dead though.

The man that brought us here escorts us back to our suite. This is the first time since I arrived in Vegas that I'm glad to be in the apartment, but as always Nick has to spoil my inner peace. “Get dressed. We're going to meet the team.”