The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter sixteen.

I FOCUS ON the strangest details.

The ceiling above me has intricate molding in swirling patterns. The sheets against my skin are silky smooth, the highest thread count possible, I suspect. Dario's arm is heavy across my bare stomach.

But no matter how hard I try to focus on the now—on the mattress beneath me, the air expanding my lungs, my hair tickling my cheek—I can't help but relive the past hour.

"You look perfect," Dario told me when I first walked into the bedroom. He looked at me as though he'd never seen anyone else in his life. "Do you have something to say to me?"

"You want an apology?" I couldn't fathom his audacity.

"I do. Yesterday you spoke to me in a way that was...disrespectful."

Keeping my voice even was difficult. "You kidnapped and drugged me."

He let out a long sigh. "You're right. How can I expect you to apologize for your transgression when I haven't apologized for my own?" He squared his shoulders, an almost sincere expression taking over his face. "I am sorry, Gabi, for the manner in which you were brought here. Hurting you is not something I want to do, ever. But I felt it was necessary so that we could begin our forever together."

I remember thinking how absolutely insane he was.

"If you apologize, then we can move forward. And be happy."

The few moments that ticked by felt like a small eternity. "I'm sorry." The words were pulled from my mouth, though I did my best to make them sound genuine.

"Thank you, Gabi."

He stepped toward me, and my pulse spiked.

"Alright, I'm going back to my room now–"

But as I turned, he grabbed my arm, holding me in place.

I feel tears leak down my cheeks as I remember what happened next. Lying here now, beside him, my stomach turns.

I try to sit up, but his arm locks around me like a vice.

"I–I have to use the bathroom," I choke out.

He's mostly asleep, but grunts in acknowledgement, lifting his arm so I can slide to my feet.

I snatch up the white dress that he took off me and pull it over my head as my feet carry me across to the bathroom, where I close the door and lean my palms flat against the counter either side of the sink.

My breathing is heavy, my cheeks wet and flushed. I can't stop the memories.

His hands slipped the straps of my dress down.

"Stop," I was whispering. "Dario, please."

"Shh, darling." He brushed my hair back delicately. "It's alright, come here."