Sinful Pleasure (Sinful #1)

CHAPTER 67

C HAPTER 67

ALLYN

Today was the day. My father must serve his punishment.

The thought alone tightened the lump in my throat.

I tried not to dwell on it as I eat breakfast alone.

Maddox left with my father early this morning, wanting to spare me the agony of witnessing what he had to do.

I tried to keep my mind busy, reading another book I found in the small house, trying to pass the time between the pages.

All I’ve been told by the guards is that Maddox left the house alone with my father, not wanting any of his men involved. Something about that unsettled me.

Seconds, minutes, hours tick by, and still, there’s no sign of either of them. The sun slowly sunk, inching toward the horizon, and the night creeped in, but neither Maddox nor my father had returned.

By eight in the evening, I was pacing the house. I knew both Mikael and Maddox. Of course, I had reason to be worried.

They were both men of iron, shaped by a world of chaos and violence. All they knew was how to kill and survive.

Could my father go back on his word? Could he try to hurt Maddox, even after everything he promised?

I quickly dismissed the thought.

Mikael was too weak to overpower Maddox in his state. For him to have any chance, there would have to be a weapon involved— something that could tip the scale in his favor. Otherwise, his chances of survival against Maddox were nonexistent.

And that, in itself, worries me even more.

Just when the tension in my head was about to make me snap, the door to the small house opened. I jumped off the sofa, heart racing. I nearly collided with Maddox as I rushed out of the living room.

The sight of him made me stop dead in my tracks.

My eyes widened in shock. His hair was disheveled and wet, his expensive shirt crumpled and soaked in blood. His pants, too, were stained with it. His face expressionless, like steel.

I rushed to him, panic rising in my chest. My hands touched his body, searching, desperate to find any sign of injury. But the more I touched him, the more I realized there wasn’t a single wound on him.

The blood wasn’t his.

The realization slammed into me — it had to be Mikael’s.

I pulled back, putting a slight distance between us, my heart racing as I waited for him to speak.

Maddox calmly began to peel off the bloody shirt, tossing it onto the floor. I followed the movement with my gaze before looking up at his face.

“Where’s Mikael?”

“Not here.”

He closed the door behind him, walked past me, and went straight to the table. Without a word, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a long gulp. His face remained unchanged—as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Maddox rarely drank in front of me—almost never. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

“I asked you a question, Maddox.” I stepped closer, my voice sharp with urgency. “Where’s Mikael?”

He didn’t respond. Not a word.

He took another sip from the bottle, and I snapped, snatching it from his hand. His eyes shot to mine, locking onto me with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine.

I needed answers—answers he clearly didn’t want to give me.

But after a long, heavy sigh, he finally surrendered, dropping his shoulders in defeat. He leaned his body onto the table, hands braced against it, his abs tightening in a way that almost made me lose my train of thought.

“My men took him far away from here,” he finally admitted, his voice even, his eyes unwavering as they locked with mine.

I exhaled a shaky breath. “Is he alive?”

“Yes,” he replied, pausing for a long moment before adding, “Barely.”

My heart skipped a beat. Barely?

“Why did you take him away from here without my permission?”

“Because I didn’t want you to see him like this,” he answered quickly, his voice low and steady, but there was something else in his eyes… guilt?

I took a few steps closer to him—until I was standing right in front of him. I cupped his face in my hands, locking my gaze with his as I gently stroked his cheek. I offered him a small, comforting smile—one that I hoped would reassure him.

Something told me he needed this more than ever.

“It’s okay,” I whispered softly against his lips, “you can tell me.”

He shook his head, his eyes closing as if my words physically pained him. Seeing Maddox this vulnerable was… new, and unsettling.

He leaned in, seeking my touch with an almost desperate need. The silence in the room stretched between us, but I let him have it.

I could tell he was struggling with himself, fighting something deep inside, and for a moment, I just wanted him to feel safe.

“I almost killed him, Allyn,” he confessed, his voice trembling. ‘’I don’t know what got into me, but I was so close to ending his life, even though I gave you my word that I wouldn’t.”

His voice faltered with every word, and my heart sank with him. I could hear the pain in his confession, the agony of his inner battle.

“The moment I started hitting him, I just couldn’t stop. I did it again and again—until my hands and my shirt were soaked in his blood, and he was barely breathing.”

My hands trembled as I listened to his words, but I didn’t stop caressing his cheeks. He relaxed against my touch, his body stiffening as he spoke—but still seeking my comfort.

“Then I saw you in his bloody face,” he continued, his voice raw, “and that was the only fucking thing that saved his life. It was you, not me.”

“I thought I was hurting you,”

“I thought it was you.”

“You saved him, not me,”

He repeated, the guilt seeping deeper with every word.

He kept repeating those words. His body shook in my arms, eyes soft and filled with regret. I pressed myself closer, my heart breaking at the weight of his pain.

“I don’t spare lives. I’m made to kill and torture. I’m a monster—not a savior.”

His words felt like daggers in my chest, each one deeper than the last.

The burden of his past—the manipulations, the violence, the war he’d fought with his own soul—was consuming him. He was trying to fight it, but it was slowly tearing him apart.

“No, stop,” I whispered, resting my forehead against his. I kissed his lips gently, willing him to hear me. “You’re not a monster, Maddox. I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself that.”

“I just told you I almost killed your father, and you’re still looking me in the eyes, denying it?”

The pain in his words shattered me, but I refused to let go of him. His eyes searched mine for a way out, for an excuse to pull away.

But I wouldn’t let him.

“I am a monster, Allyn,” his voice rose in frustration, desperate to push me away.

I shook my head, holding him tighter, not letting him slip from my grasp. I knew what he was doing, what he needed to believe about himself—but I wouldn’t let him fall into that darkness.

“I won’t let you do this to yourself,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Don’t let your past win.”

“You’re not a monster,” I said softly, my voice steady as I tried to make him understand. “You want to believe it only because you’ve been manipulated into thinking so, but I know you, Maddox. The real you.’’

My eyes filled with tears as I held him.

All I wanted was to take away the pain he had been carrying for so many years. Pain that wasn’t his fault—but something he had been forced to endure.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice cracked and raw.

“You deserve every bit of me,” I breathed out, making sure he could see the truth on my face.

I needed him to understand. I needed him to know it wasn’t just words— I meant every one of them.

He paused, hesitating, before slowly placing his cold, bloodstained hands around my waist. His breath was shallow, —as if just touching me caused him even more pain. But he stayed there, holding me, letting me in.

“I’m here,” I said, my voice a whisper against his skin.

“I’m with you, and I’m not leaving. Let me show you that you deserve all the love in this messed-up world.”

By the time I finished speaking, we were pressed tightly together, as if we couldn’t exist without the other.

At that moment, I felt it—our lives intertwined, and I realized how much I needed him.

How deeply I loved him.

No force in this world could separate us now. I would prove to him, no matter what, that he deserved everything good that life could offer.

He wasn’t broken, he wasn’t a monster, and he certainly wasn’t a bad person. He just had the misfortune of being raised by the wrong hand in a world that never showed him what true love looked like.

I saw it then—a single, uncertain tear slipped from Maddox’s right eye, something I’d never seen before.

A man who had learned to shut away his emotions, now vulnerable in my arms. And it was then that I knew for sure—he wasn’t messed up.

He was simply a product of a harsh world, and I was going to show him that he was capable of more than just surviving.

He was capable of being loved.

He pulled me into a kiss, and I kissed him back as if it were the first time. I kissed him with everything I had, trying to take his pain and make it mine. I kissed him with no intention of stopping, ever.

“You and me,” I whispered against his lips, my hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling his skin bristle under my touch. “Against the world. Remember?”

His tongue slid between my lips, deepening the kiss. The warmth of it sent a shiver down my spine, and I melted into him, my heart racing.

Maddox then picked me up, carrying me into the bedroom.

We collapsed into each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. He relaxed against me, and for the first time, I saw his mind at ease. I barely held back a grin—this was a victory, one I had fought for. When I asked him about my father again, he spoke freely.

What surprised me the most was when he revealed that he had given Mikael a chance to fight back. His hands weren’t tied, and he’d even given him a knife, but Mikael had thrown it aside, refusing to fight, taking every bit of the punishment.

Mikael had neglected himself for me.

And Maddox fought his own demons for me. I smiled as Maddox cuddled closer to me, my fingers running through his hair.

It didn’t matter where we were.

As long as I had him, it felt like home.