The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter forty-four.

THE POLISHED FLOORS of the new franchise gleam beneath my feet. Today, I can't stop smiling. The construction is going off without a hitch, I have officially hired an amazing and qualified team to work in the club, and to top it all off, Reaper is back in the city.

I don't know exactly what happened in Georgia with his sister, and perhaps it would be better news if he had stayed longer because that would mean they're mending their relationship. But selfishly, I am glad he's home.

Elodie will be glad too.

There is only one small issue that is keeping my happiness from being absolute. He Who Shall Not Be Named haunts my dreams more frequently than ever, yet we have kept our distance since that night on the roof when he...

My knees clench together, my cheeks heating. I remember that evening in flashes: his lips on my neck, his fingers inside of me, his tongue between my legs, his hand around my throat.

A shiver traces down my spine.

"Amelia?"

I flinch and turn to see Gabi standing in the doorway to the new franchise. "Hey," I breathe. "Sorry, I was just...thinking."

Gabi has a difficult face to read—she hides her emotions well—but there is something in her eyes that is inherently knowing, like she can see every thought in my brain. God, I hope that's not true, because my thoughts are filthy.

"Ready to go?" she asks. Her caramel hair cascades down her shoulders, and though she wears only subtle makeup, her features still manage to be both striking and soft all at once.

"I'm ready," I tell her.

For a few days now, she has met me here at the new franchise, and I've driven us back over to Sin City. It gives me a chance to practice my driving now that Nathaniel and I are taking some time apart.

It's for the best, I remind myself every time my chest aches at the thought of being away from him.

I am a cautious driver, which I think Gabi appreciates, but it means the trip from the new franchise over to Sin City is long.

"How are you?" I ask softly, glancing over at her when we stop at a red light. She's looked far better recently than she did when I had coffee with her all those weeks ago, but I've been careful not to pry.

"Good," she says, a small smile on her lips. "Happy."

I carefully press down on the accelerator. "I'm glad."

She isn't going to the club to work; she quit some time ago, though I'm not exactly sure when. She's going to meet up with Viktor. I'm still somewhat unclear on the status of their relationship as they're both private people, but they seem happier nowadays.

"And you?" she asks.

"Good."

Riveting conversation this is.

I clear my throat, shifting my hands on the steering wheel. I can feel her looking at me.

"And Nathaniel?" she presses.

I flail for a moment, stuttering out a few half words. "Isn't he–isn't he your friend?"

She hums delicately. "Perhaps he is," she allows, "but he is more yours than he will ever be mine."

"He isn't mine," I refute quickly. Too quickly.

"I don't think you get to decide that. You get to decide whether to give yourself back to him, but you don't get to dictate how another feels."