Chapter 20
TWENTY
“ G ood morning," Sin gently whispers in the stillness of his room. I graze my fingertips over his silk sheets, tracing up to his face, outlining his strong jaw until my palm rests against his cheek.
I feel his smile in my hand, and it brings me back to the night before.
After I committed sinful acts in that confessional booth with him, he drove us home with that same grin that nearly melted me. We crawled into his bed and cuddled the entire night.
I blush from the knowing look he gives me. “Sleep good?”
It was the best sleep of my life, tangled in him. I nod. “You?”
He kisses my forehead, “That’s probably the first good night of sleep I’ve had…” He stretches his arms upward, showcasing his muscular definition in the morning light. “Ever.”
His hand slips to my stomach, underneath the soft cotton t-shirt of his that I’m wearing. “I’m going to be busy today, but I promise we will return to this bed before midnight.”
A grin crawls up my face. “What makes you think I’m going to get back in your bed?” On the outside I’m being playful, trying to feign confidence.
Sin notices my hesitation as I close my legs.
“Magnolia…” He pulls his hand from underneath my shirt and crooks a finger underneath my chin. “I will never push you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
Possibly the sweetest words I have ever heard, but the way his accent rolls my name and the sensual way the words leave his lips make me want to give him everything right this second. What is happening to me?
I bite my lip, not wanting things to go too quickly. “Thank you,” I reply simply. “I will consider sleeping in here tonight, then,” I tease.
With a quick flourish, Sin tosses the comforter on the floor and climbs on top of me, tickling my sides until I’m a fit of laughter. “If I find you in the guest bed,”—I don’t miss the way he calls my room the guest room now, or how his hands grip my sides as he finishes tickling me—“I will carry you back into our bed.” Our.
“So what are you doing today that’s going to keep you out so late?” I ask, wanting to change the subject to attempt and calm my heaving chest.
As he tosses his head back, I take a good look at him. The way the stretch accentuates his neck, his sleepy hair a mess atop his head. “Meetings all day, and then I need to swing by the club. ”
“Oh,” I say quietly, concerned that when he visits his sex club, he might partake. But it’s not like I lay any claim to him. He can do whatever he wants.
With an amused look he steps out of bed, wearing only a pair of fitted black boxers. “You know I mean the dance club, right?”
I cough, “Yes, of course. Can I come?” I grin.
He shakes his head quickly. “Maybe another time.”
Weird.
But okay.
“I’ll meet you downstairs for coffee and to say goodbye.” He looks at the watch on his wrist. “Jumping in the shower, wanna join?”
A blush heats my cheeks. “Maybe later?”
I stretch my limbs, reaching to the nightstand to check my phone. Surprisingly, there’s a text from an unknown number.
Unkown: The position is yours. I cannot wait to work with you!!! – V
Magnolia: Seriously! Eek. Best news ever.
I rush to the bathroom, checking him out through the steam. He’s so perfect… No, Magnolia! Get it together .
“I got a job!” I squeal.
Victoria: Want to start tomorrow? I’ll send you all the details later, okay?
Magnolia: Sounds perfect, Yes! Thank you!
He turns to me, rubbing shampoo into his raven hair. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to.” I pout, wanting his excitement to match mine.
He rinses. “Not for money right? You know you can have anything you want.” I want to jump in that shower with him right this second.
I grab a brush from the counter, taking it through my messy morning waves. “I appreciate that, but I like to make my own way and honestly, I think I’ve found a little piece of what I’m wanting in this world.”
“Where is it?”
I twirl as he watches me through the glass shower door, grinning. “A little coffee shop you probably haven’t heard of it.” I wink.
A nod makes him register why I’m so excited. “Alice in Brewland. I’m happy for you. We’ll celebrate now. Anything you want?”
I beam. “Anything? Don’t you have to work?”
“I’ll push the morning meetings back. Sorry I can’t do dinner, but I think lunch will suffice, will it not?”
I want to toss my arms around him.
Sin looks completely out of place here at Giovanni’s Pizzeria.
A perfectly combed pompadour with a midnight Armani suit fitted to his lean frame. I came dressed in a cute pair of jean shorts and one of his t-shirts tucked into the front. Bria said he would love it, and as his eyes raked over me when we met in front of the house, he definitely does.
“I guarantee you the owner isn’t even Italian.”
A smile plays on my lips. “The reviews were really good. Plus, I miss pizza! I haven’t had any in a month. We had pizza night every Friday it at Saint Mary’s.”
“Fine,” he huffs, “but next time, I’ll bring you somewhere better.” I didn’t tell him where we were going, I just searched for the nearest pizza place.
The waiter brings out the steaming pizza on a metal plate, and it looks divine. Sin let me order it just how I like it: pepperoni, sausage, extra cheese, extra pineapple.
A gasp escapes him as I fold my slice. “Bella!” he cries playfully. “You eat like a New Yorker.”
He gives in, taking a slice from the tray, inspecting it. “I knew there would be something wrong with you.” My eyes widen until I notice from his smile that he’s teasing me. “It’s just a shame that a girl as hot as you would order pineapple on a fucking pizza.”
I toss the paper from my straw at him. “It’s good!”
“This is not fucking pizza, Mags.”
“It is! It’s delicious. ”
“Well,”—he sets his slice down and takes a sip of his drink. “You’re going to meet my father tomorrow.”
“Really?” I stiffen, nerves taking over. “He’s coming here?”
“No, I can’t bear to take another bite of this. We leave for Italy in the morning. You’ll get real pizza there.”
“I work tomorrow,” I complain.
He throws his head back. “You having a job is going to interrupt my plans,” he growls. “We’ll need a week, so tell your boss and let me know when will work.”
I nod excitedly, hoping Victoria doesn’t mind my absence so soon. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. It’s my first day, after all!
I wish I could make this up, but alas, I can’t.
The board outside of Alice in Brewland has an additional asterisk added.
Magnolia’s Magic $7
Lavender latte iced with a magical potion that is definitely not poison.
*It’s just dry ice*
*It’s also Magnolia’s first day!*
I snap a picture, grinning. Maxwell is beside me, having walked me here. Surely, he won’t stick around for my entire shift. “That’s cute.” He smiles, gesturing to the sign.
“You’re going home, right?” I worded that too harshly. “I mean thank you, for keeping me safe.” I gesture to the near-empty road, trying to conceal my back-and-forth feelings of having a guard.
“I’m going to stick around here.” He shrugs.
“Max, you can’t.” I sound like a child not wanting their parent to stay through their first school day.
He holds his hands up. “Don’t worry, you won’t even know I’m around. Besides, I won’t be inside. I’m going to just spend my day relaxing around the area. There’s a million shops.”
“Won’t you get bored?” I ask.
“Nah, I’m getting paid to basically make sure you don’t die. I think we’re safe here, so I'll just get paid to chill in the city.”
I give him a grateful grin before entering the shop. The bell overhead chimes, alerting Victoria to my arrival. She spots Maxwell passing by as I take a moment to inhale the rich aroma of coffee beans that permeates the entire store. “Good morning, my favorite co-worker!” she sings.
“Good morning!” I beam. “I am so excited!”
She gestures for me to come behind the coffee bar, handing a mug to me. “Is Maxy Waxy your boyfriend?” she coos, nodding her head to where he was moments ago. I wonder what he’ll do all day?
With a little laugh I shake my head, taking a sip. “No, he’s just…” I don’t know how to word this. “A friend. I love the sign, by the way.”
“Wanted to make you feel special. Did it work?” Her energy is as electric as it was when I met her; she’s a very approachable person.
I nod. “Absolutely! And so does this coffee. It’s divine.”
“Another perk of this job is the free coffee!” She smiles and takes out her notepad. “To kick things off, here are some of our tasks. While we won't cover everything today since things can come up at different times, we can do little things while you get acquainted with the storefront. We need to catalog and arrange the books, especially since we're going to need to stock the shelves. Here are our busiest times.” I note the days: Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday.
She continues, “We can alternate between barista responsibilities and floor duties. I'm happy in either position, as I do enjoy making drinks. If you decide to work on the floor, please focus on attending to the guests and keeping the book arrangements neat. You can set up your display at the empty table upstairs. I have the classics table, so you’re welcome to create whatever you like on the other!”
“I definitely feel more comfortable on the floor, at least for the first while, so that works out great! I wouldn’t want to mess anyone’s orders up.” I laugh.
“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll train you. We have a pretty small menu, so once you get the hang of it, it’s easy. Do you have any questions?”
“You said to decorate the table. Are there any centerpieces or anything?”
“Yes!” She beams. “When you go upstairs, you’ll see a skinny wooden door. This place is like a hundred years old. Anyways, anything you’ll need will be there. Feel free to decorate more than the table; I always love to see people’s creativity!”
“Perfect! I’m so excited. Also…” Deep breath, it’s okay to ask for things. “I know it’s my first day and I’m not trying to already be flaky, but my…” Is he my boyfriend? “A guy is wanting to take me out of the country.”
“For real?” she gasps. “That is amazing! I’ve never left New York.” She grins. “Well, once my parents took us to New Jersey, but it was a day trip.”
“Us? Siblings?” I ask, wanting to know more about her.
With a smile, she pulls out her phone, swiping through her gallery before landing on a photo of her family. “I have two brothers and one sister! My parents own a little sandwich shop a few miles down, so we were always busy with that growing up.”
“That’s amazing. I’ve always wanted siblings.”
“I’ll have to take you one day to meet everyone! So out of the country where?”
“It will be my first trip! I’ve never been out of New York, either. We’re going to Italy!”
She lets out a long whistle, bending down to grab her laptop from a shelf. “That is very exciting! Here, blackout any dates and I’ll get someone to cover them.”
“Are you sure it’s no trouble?”
“Don’t stress. We’re really lax around here, besides you accepted immediately so it wasn’t like you had any time to sort your affairs. We have a revolving door of university kids that pick up shifts for some extra cash, so just text me. I’m going to prep for the morning rush, just take your time. We have about,”—she looks at the watch on the wall—“thirty minutes. You’ll find all of the inventory sheets and books upstairs.”
“Thank you!” I chime.
“Your shirt is in the cabinet, here.” She taps on a metal shelf. “I’ll just be back here prepping. Good luck!”
This is really happening! My first ever job. I open up the metal doors and pull out my size. It’s emerald-green, with the cutest logo on front. Alice in Brewland with mugs of coffee and books. I run to the bathroom to change, sliding my other shirt in my cubby.
I pull out my phone, wanting to get the dates set so that Victoria has ample time to cover my shifts.
Magnolia: Good morning!
Sin: Hello, Magnolia.
Magnolia: Italy is a go! What dates should I tell her?
Sin: Two weeks from today. We could go sooner, but I have business to attend to here.
His texts are always so formal.
Sin: Good luck on your first day, Bella.
Magnolia: Thank you : )
After blacking out the dates, I walk upstairs, knowing exactly how I want to decorate the empty table beside Victoria’s.
I begin by cataloging the books on the shelves, happy to see it’s mostly restocked after my shopping spree. A few new copies of Romeo and Juliet sit in the box. The spine is encased in gold foil, pages black. I place them on the shelf, leaving behind a copy to look through.
“Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars.”
One of my favorite quotes.
I think I’ll be taking this one home.
I set it aside and continue going through the inventory. Victoria did an amazing job categorizing everything nicely in the folder, making my part easy. I’ll ask her if she needs any help with this. That is one thing the orphanage taught me: how to be extremely helpful. Sin would probably say overhelpful.
The shop door chimes, alerting to the first customers of the day. I peek down the stairs, listening in as a group orders from her. I want to tidy up, and luckily, I’m done with the new inventory .
Now, it’s just my table to do.
The small wooden door creaks open, revealing an array of boxes labeled with themes. Halloween, Spring, Christmas.
Although it’s still technically summer, New York is already on the cusp of fall. I don’t want to put out Halloween décor, but darker academia vibes would be perfect.
As books have always been my escape, I want to create a fantasy table.
I line the table with a black cloth and place an array of fantasy books. I slip a string of twinkling lights with a battery pack between the stacks. Faux red roses with silk petals add a romantic aura to the table. I step back to admire my work, feeling like something is missing.
I grab my copy of Romeo and Juliet and head downstairs, seeing Victoria's behind the counter wiping it down. The earlier guests have left. I slip behind the bar and put my book in the cubby to check out later. “Me getting a job here is probably pointless because I’m just going to spend my paycheck here.” I laugh.
“Well, you do get a thirty percent discount if that makes it any easier.” She points to a shelf below mine, and I note a stack of her own books. “We’re going to read anyways. It’s basic girl math.”
I go onto the floor, collecting used mugs off the tables. I love that there aren't plastic and paper cups for when you’re sitting inside. There’s just something special about going to a coffee shop and holding a beautiful ceramic mug that keeps your drink warm in your hands. It feels like home. “You can bring those over here. Washing calms my nerves. ”
“I’ll dry,” I offer.
“How is it up there?”
“I finished, and it was really fun. I loved decorating! I hope I didn’t take too long.”
“Please do it anytime. The owner hates how I decorate because it’s complete maximalism.” She laughs. “And you didn’t take long at all. We don’t get busy until about eight thirty.”
As I’m putting away the ceramic mugs, a customer walks in attempting to maneuver through the door with a large black trunk. Victoria rushes over, helping him set it on a table. “I saw your listings needing first editions?” he questions quietly, eyes panning around the space.
“Yes!” She sighs. “I’m so glad you saw it, I was wondering if anyone was going to come in. We’ve been needing some badly.”
I saw the locked glass case upstairs, with only a few copies in it. “I’m Victoria,” she beams, rushing behind the bar. “What do you want? On the house.”
“Black coffee is great, thanks.” He slides his palms along the front of his jeans.
His nervous gaze lands on me. “I’m Magnolia,” I tell him.
He walks over, extending a hand. “Cameron, but everyone calls me Cam.”
“Okay, Cam.” Victoria squeals, handing his mug over. He’s tall, kind-looking, with soft eyes and dark hair. “What do you have for us?”
With a smirk, he opens the lid of the trunk revealing rare, priceless first editions of various novels.
Victoria’s mouth is wide open. “This… oh my God.”
“Oh my God is right.” He cranes his neck to look up at the ceiling. “It’s my personal collection.”
He peels his gaze away from Victoria as she carefully pulls out each book, laying them on a cloth made of soft velvet.
Some are without any protection but still in perfect condition for their age while others are safely tucked into glass cases that were made for them, fitting like a glove. “How did you amass such a collection?” Victoria’s normally fun, erratic behavior is quelled by gaining such an amazing set for the shop.
He sits down, letting her take over. “Some I got at auctions, others were passed down from family. My favorite hobby is to travel and hunt for them.” He speaks quietly, swiping his gaze from me to Victoria, then the books.
He seems hesitant, unwilling to part with them. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask.
Victoria looks at me with wide eyes, wondering why I’m questioning of such an impressive set. I don’t want to ruin this for her. “I mean, we adore them, and I’m sure that some fantastic readers will be thrilled to include them in their collection!”
He looks at me, eyes nearly brimming with tears. “Yes, I… my sister isn’t well, and I need this to take care of her.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Victoria pauses, putting a caring hand on his shoulder. “We only ask for thirty percent on first editions and our appraiser prices everything very fairly. When they sell, you’ll receive a direct deposit.”
“That’s a relief.” He sighs, running a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t know what I was going to do; I’m just lucky I saw your ad. ”
“I’m sorry about your sister,” I tell him.
“Me too,” he responds with his head hanging low.
We soon finish adding to the first edition display, and Victoria lets Cameron help. My goal is to navigate readers to this section, because if I had a sister and she was sick, I would give up any prized possession I have if it would help things.
The rest of the day goes by in a blur after it gets busy. We end up needing to restock a couple of stacks on both of our tables, which feels really good to do, as people like them and that is the goal. Victoria shows me around the coffee bar, and I even learn how to make a few drinks.
“You did incredible today,” she beams when my shift is over.
To be thanked for something is beyond what I’m used to, but also, I’ll be getting paid. This is the perfect job for me, to figure out who I am and what I want to be, but it also allows me to do other things. Victoria told me my schedule will be sent out every Sunday, but for the most part, I will work Monday through Thursday, and I can pick my shifts. Today, I was only supposed to work until two, but I decided to stay until six since Sin was going to be out.
Max is waiting for me when I step outside. “How was it?” he asks.
“Brilliant!” I twirl, literally twirl on the city sidewalk, which earns a chuckle from him. “I cataloged books, sold a bunch, and a guy brought in a ton of first editions!”
“That’s cool. Home? Or did you want to grab dinner?”
“I want to go see Sin.” I could be patient, but I don’t have it in me right now .
Maxwell lifts up his wrist, noting the time. “He’s going to be out late, but he should be back before you’re asleep.”
I stop, placing my hands on my hips. “Where is he?” I give a wiggle of my brows, in a very good mood.
Max laughs, tossing his head back. “He’s at the club working, and you’re not going.”
“Roller?” I ask, my good mood tipping on the verge of annoyance. “Why not?”
He nods. “Because you don’t need to.”
“I am an adult. I can do literally anything I want,” I retort, gaining more sense of self by the day. I’m not locked into that castle anymore, and an innocent visit to a club to see Sin isn’t something illegal to do.
He shakes his head as we round the street to the house. “I know that, but Sin wouldn’t want you there.”
My stomach plummets hearing those words. “Why not?”
Max opens the door for me. “Because he is trying to conduct business, and you would only be a distraction.”
I, Magnolia, would be a distraction to Sin Donati? I don’t believe it.
“Where are you going?” Max asks as I bound up the steps.
“To bed,” I lie.
I hear him in the distance as I walk down the hall. “It’s only six! What about dinner?”
“Not hungry!” I shout back, shutting my door and locking it.
Who does he think he is? Why wouldn’t Sin be excited to see me? I have had such an incredible day, and I don’t want anything to ruin it. I know he’ll be getting in late, and I want to share this excitement with him.
To give myself some time, I turn on a movie, not paying much attention to it as I mull over what to wear to Roller.
Yes, I’m going and no, I don’t care if Max gets mad about it.
If only Bria were home, she would just tell him off, and we would go together. She would do my hair and help me pick out something beautiful to wear.
It’s eight now, and I’m wearing a sleek black dress with my dark hair pulled into a slick ponytail. I felt unsure, wanting to rip it all off to wear a knit sweater and cozy pants, but this is what people wear to a nightclub, right?
A breath of excitement escapes my lips as I slip out onto the balcony, carefully throwing my legs over the wrought iron railing. My feet gain traction on the trellis of ivy and carefully, I make my descent.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach at such a daring act, sneaking out. I used to do this, but just to go to the gardens at the orphanage, never to go to a nightclub in the city.
A third of the way down the wooden square under my right foot cracks, sending me careening down.
I plummet in a hot woosh of air to the ground, not a moment to gasp, to intake my last breath of air.
But instead of splatting on the ground, I’m encased in a set of arms attached to a smirking man .
“You could have just used the front door, but this was faster I’ll admit,” Max yawns.
I dust off my dress as he sets me on my feet. “If you’re going to tell me?—”
He holds up his hand to stop me. “If you’re bound and determined to see what Sin gets up to after hours, be my guest, but I’m coming with you.”
The nightclub is packed; cars take up every spot in the parking lot, but that doesn’t matter because as Sin’s detail, Max gets to go right to the front. The valet takes away the car.
I stand on the sidewalk, staring at the nightclub's entrance, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and hesitation. The building looks ordinary enough—brick and metal—but there's something about it that pulls me in. Neon lights outline the door, glowing in bright greens and blues, and I can hear the muffled thump of music vibrating through the walls. A long line snakes around the corner, people chatting and laughing as they wait their turn to get inside.
A muscular man stands at the entrance, beckoning us over with the wave of his hand. Maxwell leads us forward, past everyone waiting in the long line.
I shift on my feet as we enter, the entry lights spilling around us, encasing my skin in a blue hue.
People are in another line, paying an entry fee, but again we bypass them. Walking towards a heavy, scarlet curtain I begin to hesitate .
“At least you're dressed for the part,” Max sighs, running a hand down his face.
I roll my eyes. “It’s not like he’s going to kill you for this.” Gaining a little confidence in the throng of people with Max by my side, I stand straighter as he leads me in.
He laughs, “You’re underestimating him.”
As I pass through the heavy velvet curtain, the bass reverberates through me like a physical force. The air feels thick with the smell of sweat and a hint of something sweet, maybe perfume or alcohol, but it all blurs together.
It’s darker than I anticipated, with neon pink and electric blue streaks piercing the blackness. Bodies move in rhythm to the music, shifting and swaying in a way that is both chaotic and beautiful. The lights flicker overhead, and for a second, I feel disoriented, like I'm caught in the middle of a dream.
There’s a haze of smoke that makes everything feel a little distant, like I'm watching it all from the wrong side of a glass.
The crowd is a blur of faces—some laughing, some lost in the music, some leaning close to whisper into someone’s ear. The beat vibrates through my chest, each thump syncing with the pulse of my own heart. The DJ stands on a raised platform, hidden behind a curtain of glowing lights, his hands moving fast over the controls, creating the soundtrack to this whole world of strangers.
I feel out of place, unsure of what to do. A part of me wants to join the people dancing. It’s electric, intoxicating, and for the first time in a long while, I forget to worry.
We walk up to a bar top, and Max orders a drink. I don’t want anything; I’m too nervous to sip on a soda. I think he’s feeling the same emotions though, but for very different reasons.
I look for Sin through the crowd of faces, but everything melts together. I have to lean in close and talk loudly for Max to even hear me. “Where is he?”
He gestures his glass of bourbon upwards, and the perfectly square ice clinks against the crystal. “He’s in the lounge, possibly in an important meeting.” He narrows his eyes at me. “He may fire me. You know that, right?”
I slink my arm through his, unsure of anything at this point. “I won’t let him.” I grin, rushing him to the stairs.
He halts me and guides us to a modern black elevator that swiftly takes us up. As the doors slide open, I observe the stark contrast of the upper level. Gone are the dancing bodies and flashing lights; instead, this space is bathed in a red glow, with no flickering lights, only a subdued ambiance. The music envelops us, offering a more welcoming vibe.
A more upscale, Sin-like bar is operated by a man in a tailored suit. This time, I decide to order something—a Shirley Temple. It’s served in a crystal glass, bubbly clear soda mixed with sweet red syrup, two cherries float in the ice. Although I’m underage, I know I could easily order alcohol here; however, I’d prefer nothing to dull my sparkle. “It’s so fancy here," I tell Max.
“This is where he holds meetings with high-price clients.” Maxwell looks around, scanning the empty space. “Will you be okay with me running to the bathroom really quick? ”
I nod, and he sets his glass on the bar top and heads the opposite direction. I don’t need a bodyguard to walk around up here.
As I make my way opposite of him, down the long corridor peeking into the elegant rooms as I go, I look for him. One of the areas has men in suits, discussing something at a long table, but Sin isn’t there, so I keep moving.
The next has women and men, dancing and drinking. Sparklers sizzle in bottles around them. They’re celebrating something, and it looks like a really fun time.
The last room, the one draped with a black velvet curtain houses Sin. I haven’t gone in, but I hear his rich accent over the music. He’s talking to someone, mentioning a deal. A few men mumble, their words indecipherable.
I wouldn’t want to interrupt an important meeting, but I hear a woman giggle and can’t stop myself from entering.
Sin is on a black couch, a drink in one hand, and a woman sitting on his lap.
Our eyes lock, and for a fraction of a second I note a hint of fear in his gaze, but just as quickly it morphs to anger.
“What is going on?” I mutter, unsure if he can hear me over the chatter of men, laughter from her, and the music.
“Can I help you?” she asks, her blonde hair swaying as she turns her beautiful gaze on me. His hand is on her thigh, lazily stroking her tan skin.
I tilt my head, trying to understand what I’m seeing. But who am I to think I’m special? Why would our moments together mean anything to him and everything to me? “Could we talk outside?” I ask him .
Sin doesn’t move an inch, but rather places his hand higher on her leg.
I shouldn't have a private conversation here, but my sadness is churning into pure rage. “Did it all mean nothing to you?” I croak.
Sin rolls his eyes, looking at the men to laugh like I’m some silly girl. “I couldn’t give a single fuck about you,” he sneers, his words slicing through me like venom.
“I… Um—” Max rushes in as I fumble for my words, and he apologizes profusely for my interruption.
“Quit stuttering.” Sin waves me off. “Maxwell,” he beckons him, “kick this one-night-stand out of my club.”
I don’t fight—what’s the point? Instead, I allow Max to bring me downstairs, through the mass of dancing people who seem to be having way more fun than me.
Before we even step outside, I have already made my mind up about Sin.
I won’t be treated like this again.