Sinful Pleasure (Sinful #1)

CHAPTER 39

C HAPTER 39

ALLYN

A blinding light pierced my vision, forcing my eyelids open.

Everything around me was blurry, as though I was drunk or drugged.

My body froze as panic shot through me. The moment my surroundings came into focus, I realized—this place wasn’t familiar.

I was trapped in a lavish, cream-colored room, the kind of room I only saw in magazines. To my right, large windows offered a stunning view of a sprawling garden, the flowers almost mocking the chaos inside my mind.

My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat louder than the last. I shot out of bed, my legs unsteady as I rushed to the door, only to find it locked.

I wasn’t just panicked. I was terrified.

Memories rushed back in a violent wave. The apartment. Men in black, bursting in with weapons. Lydia’s scream as they shot her, the sound cutting through my mind like a knife.

My own scream as I tried to reach her—before a strong arm wrapped around me and a cloth covered my face, choking the air from my lungs.

Then, darkness.

I don’t know how long I was out, but it was long enough. Just as I thought I might lose consciousness again, the door clicked open.

A woman stepped inside. She wore a black and white uniform, her short chocolate-brown hair framing a soft, neutral face. Her eyes, warm and brown, met mine as she placed her hands in front of her body.

“Come with me, miss,” she said softly, her tone carrying no trace of threat. “He’s expecting you.”

He?

“No.”

The word tore from my throat before I could stop it. My heart was racing, as if it might give out at any second.

“You have nothing to fear, miss.” Her voice was soft, almost soothing, as if she could read my mind. A gentle, sincere smile curled her lips. “Nobody here is going to harm you.”

I didn’t believe her. Not for a second.

“I don’t trust you,” I said flatly, my voice trembling despite my efforts to sound firm. Her smile didn’t falter.

“Let me prove it to you,” she insisted, her eyes warm, encouraging. “Just come with me.”

I should’ve refused. I should’ve fought harder.

But for reasons I couldn’t explain, I followed her, my body moving almost against my will. Maybe it was the drugs still clouding my mind, or maybe I was just desperate to escape that tiny room.

Either way, I had no choice.

As I walked behind her, my eyes darted around, scanning the large, unfamiliar house for any potential escape routes. But the walls were thick with guards, men in black who would probably shoot me without hesitation if I tried to run.

The woman stopped before a tall, imposing black door. Two men, statuesque and silent, flanked it, their eyes narrowing as they sized me up.

The woman gave a small nod, and the two men shifted their gaze back to her as they stepped aside, allowing me passage. Her smile remained, though there was something strangely reassuring about it now.

She gestured for me to enter but I hesitated.

My heart hammered against my ribs, the sound deafening in my ears.

Adrenaline surged, mixing with the suffocating fear that gripped me.

I pressed my trembling hand against the cold doorknob, steeling myself. The moment the door creaked open, my breath hitched.

I had braced myself for the worst—another man in a dark room, another cruel face. But instead, my eyes landed on a man in his mid-forties, pacing restlessly. He looked up when he noticed I had entered, his eyes snapping toward me.

For a moment, he looked like a stranger—cold, detached. But as our gazes locked, something changed. His expression softened, as if I were someone he hadn’t expected to see but had been waiting for all the same.

His face paled, as though he had seen a ghost, but slowly, a relieved smile spread across his lips. I don’t know this man. I’ve never seen him before in my life. But the way he looks at me—his gaze fixed, intense—it’s as if he knows me.

“Allyn…”

His voice is soft, almost reverent. It’s my name, but hearing it from him feels unfamiliar, like it’s something I’ve forgotten.

He steps toward me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I didn’t know what I expected him to do, but it wasn’t this.

Before I could react, he pulls me close, enveloping me in his arms. My body locks up in shock, the suddenness of it taking me completely off guard.

I don’t know what to do. I stand there, frozen, my mind screaming.

“It really is you.”

He clutches me as if I might vanish the moment he lets go, his hands gently stroking my hair.

What the hell is happening?

I can’t respond. I’m not hugging him back, but I can’t pull away either.

Why am I not pushing him away?

He finally pulls back, but only enough to cup my face in his hands. His gaze is unrelenting— as if he’s memorizing every inch of my features. A soft smile curves his lips, but his eyes—they’re different.

Blurry. On the verge of tears.

This man doesn’t seem like someone who usually cries.

His expression shifts. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes that catches me off guard.

“You’re finally home,” he whispers, his voice low and heavy, as his thumbs trace the outline of my cheeks.

“I’m finally home? What…?”

I pulled back from him, confusion flooding my mind as I processed his words. His gaze never wavered, but I could see the understanding in his eyes—he knew exactly how lost I felt.

“I’m sure you are confused” he said gently, but there was an edge of sorrow in his tone.

“Damn right I am!” My voice came out sharper than I intended, laced with anger and fear. “You kidnapped me!”

He shook his head, lifting his hands in a peaceful gesture, as though he was trying to soothe a frightened animal.

“No, I saved you.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“You’ve made a mistake. Please, just let me go.”

His expression faltered, like my words had physically pained him. He refused to give in, shaking his head slowly.

“No, Allyn. I don’t make mistakes,” he said firmly, stepping toward me once again. I instinctively took a step back, my heart racing. “I know it’s all very overwhelming, but let me explain everything.”

“I don’t want to listen!”

The words exploded from me before I could stop them.

Tears started to spill down my cheeks, and I clenched my arms around my body, trying to hold myself together. I was shaking uncontrollably, but I couldn’t stop it.

“I just want to go home…”

He paused, eyes softening with concern.

“You will need time, I understand that,” he said, his voice quieter now, the weight of his words hanging in the air. His forehead creased as he stepped closer, his tone more serious.

“But you need to know—you’re safe here.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” My voice wavered, raw with emotion. “I don’t even know you. I don’t even know your name.”

A flicker of sadness crossed his face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a resolute calm.

‘‘My name is Mikael.”

It didn’t stir anything in me.

Nothing. No recognition.

Just like a stranger’s name.

“I don’t know you.”

“I know,” he sighed, his eyes drifting to the floor for a brief moment. “I wish things had turned out differently.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

My body trembled violently now. I hugged myself tighter, as if trying to hold onto something—anything—steady.

After a moment of silence, he turned and made his way to a leather couch across the room. He motioned toward it, his voice steady despite everything.

“I think you should sit down for this conversation.”