Sinful Hearts: Chapter 22

A few hours later, there’s a knock at my office door.

“Come in.”

When I look up and see Neve, Eilish, and Callie walk in, I grin.

“Hey!”

Neve makes a face, nodding at the legal briefings spread out across my desk. “Shit, sorry, are you in the middle of something?”

“You’ve just described ninety-nine percent of my waking life and maybe thirty percent of my sleeping life. But it’s nothing that can’t wait. What’s up?”

Eilish holds up a file folder. “Final liquor licensing and fire code stuff. They just need your once-over and a signature, and then they can forever be locked in the safe at The Banshee.”

I smile at the three of them. “You guys getting excited for this?”

Callie beams. “Uh, . You’re coming to the soft opening, yeah?”

“Of course!”

I find myself almost unable to look Callie in the eye, since I spent close to an hour of my day earlier sexting her brother. Which, given her and my friendship, I feel kind of weird about now.

I take the file folder and leaf through it. “I can get these back to you guys later tonight, if you like?”

Neve shakes her head of red hair. “It totally does not have to be tonight.”

“Honestly, it’s no big deal. Want me to drop it at one of your places?”

“You’re kinda near the West Village, right?”

I nod. “West seventeenth and ninth. Right by Chelsea Market.”

She shrugs. “Would you just be able to drop it off at the Banshee itself? You know the safe combo, right?”

I grin. “I do, and yeah, that’s no problem.”

Eilish makes a face. “You sure? We’re not looking to make more work for you.”

“Seriously, you’re really not. I wouldn’t offer if it was a problem.”

“Thank you,” she sighs. “It would be a huge help, if you really don’t mind. I’ve got a late class tonight, Neve’s got some function dealio with Ares, and Callie…” she turns to eye Hades’ sister, who makes a face.

“I’ve got a video chat,” Callie mutters darkly. “With my .”

I wince. “Sorry, lady.”

Being that her fiancé is a fifty-year-old, grotesque and notoriously vile Italian Mafia don from Los Angeles…

.

“Well, I’m happy to drop it off and stick it in the office safe.”

“Thanks, Elsa,” Eilish grins. “Oh! Before I forget, we changed the keypad lock on the back door. It’s seven-nine-nine-two-zero-five now.”

“Got it.” I make a mental note.

“Oh, and also?” Neve holds up a finger. “This is off the topic of the Banshee, but do you have the easement filings for the fourteenth street development? Ares asked if I could grab those from you if I swung by here.”

“Yeah, not a problem.” I cross back to my desk and open my email. “There’s a bunch of different documents, hang on. I’m going to email you…

ones…” I frown and then glance at her. “Actually, I know the last two are saved as PDFs on my phone. Feel free to grab it and email them to yourself.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s right there.” I smile, nodding my chin at my phone sitting on the corner of the desk. “Password is eleven-nineteen-twenty-three.”

“Awesome, thanks.”

“It’s probably in my recent photos. Hang on, I’m sending you the first five docs—”

“

.

.”

Neve almost drops my phone as she quickly places it face down on my desk and all but leaps back from it.

“Sorry!! I…yeah, .”

My brows knit. “What—”

I deleted all the X-rated selfies of my own privates earlier.

…But I did delete the screenshot from my conversation with Hades, including the picture of his dick, that I sent back to him.

I have a fairly good idea what Neve just saw in my photos.

I turn the color of ripe strawberries as it hits me. I actually gag, like I’m going to actually throw up right here on my office floor, but manage to stop myself.

Callie grins as she makes a beeline for the phone. “Whoa. Okay, whatever this is, I have to see—”

Neve, mercifully, gets to it first, slamming her hand down over it before Callie can snatch it up and be forever scarred.

“Not for our eyes, Cals.”

“Oh c’mon!” Callie protests.” This sounds juicy as !”

Eilish grins at me. “Is Ms. Elsa Guin with someone?”

“

,” I blurt. “I…”

I’m drowning. Hyperventilating. Possibly having a minor panic attack.

“Guys, it’s none of our business, okay?” Neve shoots the other two a look. “So, can we just leave it?”

Eilish shrugs. “Sure. Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.”

I swallow. “No problem.”

“Ugh, buzzkill,” Callie sighs. “But I need to get going anyway.”

“Same, actually,” Eilish nods. “Gotta get to class.” She turns to Callie. “You heading uptown? Castle’s downstairs. We can give you a ride.”

“Perfect, thanks.”

Neve clears her throat. “I actually have to go over some other contract stuff with Elsa.” She turns to eye me warily. “If you’ve got a sec?”

I nod stiffly. “M-hmm.”

“Great. See you both later.”

I manage a weak wave at Callie and Eilish. When they’re gone, I drag my eyes to Neve, mortified.

“I am sorry—”

She shakes her head. “It’s your phone.

sorry I pried.”

“Still. I’m sorry you saw…

.”

She snickers, chewing on her lip as she eyes me.

“So…you and Hades?”

“

?!” I sputter.

She sucks her teeth. “I saw the pic. I could tell.”

I stare at her, my face on fire. “You can based off of….” I swallow. “

?” I croak.

“I mean, I’m married to his brother. Family resemblance, who knew.”

I keep staring at her, stunned. A second later she breaks, cracking up and grinning at me.

“I’m joking. I saw his contact name at the top of the screenshot.”

The air whooshes out of my lungs as I catch myself on the edge of my desk.

“Relax. I mean, I saw a quarter second of a dick and then I looked away. Believe me, I’ve retained .”

I simmer, chewing on my lip. “Well, aside from the knowledge that I’m…

. With Hades.”

“Aside from that…yeah.” She grins at me. “I did have that on my Bingo card, not gonna lie.”

“Is saying ‘it’s complicated’ too cliche a phrase in this case?”

“I literally cannot imagine a more appropriate situation for its use.”

I smile. Neve does too, before her brow furrows.

“Is it…” she frowns, like she’s hunting for the right word.

“It’s not serious,” I blurt.

She chuckles. “That’s not what was I going to ask, and that’s none of my business anyway. No, I was trying to find a tactful way of asking if he was pressuring you into doing anything or being too…well, .”

I shake my head. “He’s not.”

“I just mean—and please don’t take offense to this, but you’re not really…”

“His type?”

She winces, making a face. “No! Well, yeah, but that sounds like a put down when I’m trying to play you up and shit on his usual terrible taste in women. And I might be totally wrong about this, and if I am, please tell me, but you’ve never struck me as much of a dating type. That’s all.”

“Because I’m married to my job?”

“Ding ding ding.”

I blush, smiling. “You’re right. But it’s…”

“Complicated.”

“Very.”

“I’d ask if you’re having fun, but I’m going to assume from that goofy-ass grin on your face that that’s a yes.”

And there I go, grinning even wider.

“Does anyone else know?”

“

.”

“Cool. It’s staying that way, at least on my end.”

“You’re not going to tell Ares?”

“That I saw a picture of his brother’s boner? Uh, no, Elsa. I like living on a planet that hasn’t been blown apart by a nuclear firestorm.”

I snort a laugh.

“No, for real, I’m not. This is between you and Hades.” She peers at me. “He treating you well, though, right?”

I nod. “I’m in total control.”

Well, that’s only maybe ten percent true, but who’s keeping score.

“Good. But for real, can we agree to literally never tell Ares that I caught even a millisecond glimpse of his brother’s genitals? Actually, please can I ask you never to tell Hades, either?” She frowns. “Look, could we just collectively agree to forget any of this ever happened, and tell no one about it, ?”

“Neve, we one hundred percent have a deal.”

We both laugh as we shake on it. Then we hug. She turns to leave.

“Hey, Neve?”

She stops at the door, turning to look back at me. “Yeah?”

“That’s, uh…” I clear my throat uneasily. “That’s the picture you saw… Right?”

She wags her brows, zipping a finger across her lips.

I exhale slowly.

“Just, you know, let me know who your bikini waxer is sometime.”

.

Neve snorts another laugh, grinning at me as she opens my office door.

“Love ya, Elsa.”

Hours later, though not nearly as late as I’ve had to stay sometimes, I’m finally leaving. I grab my gym bag off the couch in my office, lock up, and grab an Uber home.

When I get there, I frown when I see the food delivery I sent to Nora a couple of hours ago still sitting on the kitchen counter. One, because I seriously need to start finding the time to make my sister actual home-cooked meals instead of feeding her nothing but takeout. But two, I sent it hours ago, and it’s still unopened.

“Nora?”

She’s not in the living room when I poke my head in there. I check her room next, knocking lightly on the closed door.

“Hey! I’m home. How was your day? Also, you must be starving! The Italian I sent—” I frown. “Nora?”

I creak the door open. She’s not there.

Pulling my phone out, I send her a quick text. I’m not super hardcore about a curfew, or about where she can or can’t go. She’s fifteen, she’s a smart kid, and it’s New York. As long as she lets me know where she’s going to be, and that everything is okay, she’s got a lot of freedom.

Her reply comes almost immediately:

She sends me a thumbs up emoji, and that’s that.

She was obviously home earlier after school when I had the food delivered, since it’s sitting on our kitchen counter. But I guess something came up with her friends. I hate making light of her teen drama, because I was that age once too. But sometimes, it’s hard not to roll my eyes at the latest earth-shattering catastrophe that usually revolves around literally nothing.

In the kitchen, I realize I’m starving. So I open up the takeout bag and pop some of the cavatelli with spicy sausage and broccolini in the microwave. I’m halfway through devouring it, along with a big glass of pinot noir, when the unit phone buzzes with a call from the front desk down in the lobby.

“Hey, Gerry.”

“Evenin’, Ms. Guin. Gotta package here for you.”

My brows knit. “Work files?”

“Nnno, I don’t think so. Big black box with a ribbon, and the courier said he was paid not to say who it came from.”

Okay…that’s weird.

Just then, my phone buzzes with a text:

I grin. Whatever the package is, I think this explains where it came from.

“Ms. Guin?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here.”

“Want me to bring it up?”

“Nah, I could do with stretching my legs. I’ll be right down. Thanks.”

Ten minutes later, I’m back upstairs sitting in my living room, staring at the matte black box tied with a black satin ribbon and bow sitting on my coffee table. There’s no note or anything, but I grin at the sweet gesture from Taylor.

Taylor’s a stickler for her bedtime routine and sleep health, so she’s already got her “do not disturb” auto reply set for texts. But still, she’ll see it in the morning and know I got the package.

I re-read her text again, my smile growing wider. I love working for her, and Alistair and Gabriel. It’s a wonderful chance at a fresh start, away from Leo, and the less fun memories of childhood, and from Hugo the stalker creep. So it really is incredibly validating to hear that they’re glad I’m here, too.

I take a big slug of my pinot noir and then pull open the ribbon tied around the box. I take off the lid, smiling curiously at the matte black crepe paper inside, before I pull it aside—

…And go very, very, still.

I am confident this is not a gift from Taylor. And if it is, I have, well, questions. Because it’s not a bottle of wine, or a fruit basket, or a laser-etched Lucite plaque, or something else your boss would send you for a job well done.

Inside the box, I’m staring at the most erotic and provocative, skimpiest lingerie I’ve ever laid eyes on, bar none.

My mouth falls open, my cheeks burning as I stare at the contents. The demi-bra is transparent black lace, with just enough fabric to basically—sort of—cup the undersides of your breasts without really covering much of anything.

I start to pull the matching panties out—in the same delicate, black, see-through lace as the bra—before I stop, my eyes going wide.

There’s skimpy, and then there’s, well, . It’s like a thong, but…not really. The front is about two inches wide, leading down to the gusset, which I realize as I hold them up actually splits apart.

My face blooms bright red as it clicks.

Crotchless panties. They’re freaking crotchless panties.

The back is even flimsier. After the lace in the front splits into two, to not at cover your vagina, it comes up the back over the ass in two strips, one over each cheek, to where they connect with the delicate waistband again.

That’s it.

The box also contains lacy black thigh-highs with a matching black lace garter belt.

So, no—this is pretty obviously from Taylor. And it doesn’t take much of a genius to figure out who send it.

Hades, clearly.

Then I realize there’s something else in the box.

something elses, actually, both in smallish black satin boxes. I pick up the first, without the faintest idea what it could be as I open it.

I immediately turn bright red.

It’s a vibrator. A little, shiny, gold vibrator. The kind that’s in a sort of “U” shape, where you slide one end up and , and the other end hugs the front against your clit.

I mean, so I’ve heard…

I shiver, chewing on my lip as I stare at the outrageously sexy lingerie and the golden—or at least gold —vibrator, courtesy of Hades bloody Drakos.

Which seriously begs the question: what the is in the other box? Handcuffs? A freaking I simmer with forbidden heat as I lift open the lid of the second box.

Immediately, something hot pulses and sizzles in the pit of my stomach as stare at the little bulbous toy sitting inside the box, also gold.

It’s a butt plug.

The man got me a fucking golden My hand trembles as I reach for it. My breath comes heavier as my fingertips brush over the polished surface and pick it up.

It’s heavy. And…

.

.

A throb of molten lust pulses through my body.

Swallowing, I place the plug back in the box, which I set down on the coffee table. I breathe deeply as I let my eyes drink it all in.

I’ve never owned anything like this. Never anything even close to this. And certainly never been anything like this, by anyone.

My eyes dart to my phone.

Stop. I shouldn’t even engage.

Oh, who am I kidding.

Shit. It’s…disturbing, how inside my head he is.

I shiver with excitement.

I roll my eyes.

I snort.

He’s seriously un-fucking-believable. Real humans do not talk like this. And yet, here I am, grinning and blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush, playing his game.

Very, very willingly.

But just as I’m typing out a cheeky reply, the door to the apartment suddenly slams open.

.

Choking on my wine, I shove the extremely adult contents of the package back into the box. Then I jump up and bolt down the hall to my bedroom to shove it all in my closet.

Outside my room, I hear Nora slamming the door to her own room shut.

.

Time to put on my big sister hat.

I step out of my room and knock on her door.

“Nora?”

“Come in.”

Fear and worry stab into me at the soft, utterly broken tone of my sister’s voice. I quickly push the door open.

“Nora?”

.

“Oh, shit, Nora, honey, what’s wrong?!”

I sit on the bed next to her and wrap her in my arms as she cries her heart out.

“Hey, it’s okay! Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

I stroke her hair as she clings to my arm, sobbing.

“Do you want to talk about it? Did something happen with someone at school?”

She shakes her head, then twists, lifting her eyes, blurry with tears, to mine. “Some kids from school got jumped tonight.”

My brow furrows. “Jumped as in mugged?”

“As in they got the shit beat out of them.”

“It’s why I ran over to Gemma’s house. At first we all thought they’d been in a fight. But it’s a lot worse than that.”

“Oh my God, Nora.” My face falls as I hug her tightly. “What happened? Who got hurt?”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Hey,” I smile, lifting her face to mine. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

“One thousand percent.”

“Theo Petrakis and Nick Eliades.”

The two boys who were over here smoking pot that day Hades drove me home.

“Two other guys, too, Evan Chan and Kyle McMasters. But Nick and Theo got the worst of it.”

I wince. “How bad?”

Nora shudders, choking back a sob. “They’re both in the hospital. Nick has a broken arm, broken leg, and a fractured eye socket.”

He may be one of the little shits who tried to get my fifteen-year-old sister high, and that damn well better have been the extent of his plans for that evening. But still, he’s just a kid.

“God, that’s horrible,” I murmur, hugging her closer.

Nora’s face pales. “Theo got it even worse. I guess they knocked him out, then doused him with vodka and lit him on fire.”

“Oh my God, Nora, I’m so sorry.” I squeeze her tightly. “Did they catch the guys who did it?”

She shakes her head miserably. “No.” She suddenly shivers violently. “They’re still out there. Elsa, what if they’re targeting kids from St. Mark’s Academy?”

I shake my head quickly, pulling her tighter to me. “

, Nora. No. Nobody is targeting anyone. It’s horrible and senseless, but I’m sure it was just a random act of violence. I mean they’re all wealthy enough kids, from families with money. Maybe these guys who jumped them saw four teenagers with fancy watches and figured they were easy targets?”

“But why hurt them so badly? Elsa, Theo is in bad shape. And Nick’s going to lose his spot on the Cornell hockey team next year.” She shudders and tears up again. “Why the fuck did they have to hurt them like that?!”

I shake my head, rocking her. “I don’t know, Nora,” I murmur quietly. “But I’m it was just senseless, random violence.”

She doesn’t need to know that both Theo’s and Nick’s fathers work for the Drakos family. She also doesn’t need to dwell on the idea that being doused with and lit on fucking fire is a pretty cut and dried Bratva message.

She also doesn’t need to know that suddenly I’m worried that something very, very bad is looming on the horizon.