Secrets: Web of Sin

by Aleatha Romig

  Louisa and I continued to message as I pulled up emails and sent her questions. She even filled me in a little on the time-stamp blip with Franco, telling me that Jason was concerned that it was an attempt to erase something from the security tape. Since she couldn’t reach me, she authorized our security team to review tapes in all our facilities. Looking down at the beautiful dress I had on, I wanted to ask if that included our design facility. At the same time, I didn’t want to worry her.

  I didn’t even realize how much time had passed until Sterling appeared behind me, his dark stare on my screen as his eyes scanned the long trail of correspondence between Louisa and me.

  “Emails,” he said. “You were given that to catch up on work.”

  I totally forgot my vow of silence as I swiveled in the seat and turned toward him. “That is what I’m doing. I told you I would talk with Louisa. She’s part of Sinful Threads and my best friend. Mostly we’ve been discussing work and the mass of messages that I missed because of you.”

  “Mostly.”

  I lowered my voice. “Get over yourself. I didn’t say anything about you.”

  His chin rose. “Tell her you have to go and turn it off. You’re coming with me into the bedroom.”

  “I’m not done.”

  His hand reached for the screen of my laptop. “I said you are. Either log off or Patrick will do it for you.”

  A gust of air left my nose as I huffed in response. That didn’t stop me from typing a goodbye message to Louisa as Sterling stood with his arms folded over his chest. I didn’t wait for Louisa to respond before I closed out of our messages and my emails, and then shut down the laptop. “There, your highness. It’s off.”

  He didn’t respond, yet his lips formed a straight line and he quirked his chin toward the bedroom door.

  Araneae

  It was my turn to fold my arms over my chest as Sterling stripped from his casual clothes. Damn, it was hard to stay mad as he walked around the room naked. Within the closet was what appeared to be a custom suit, different from the one that was there when we arrived. It was light gray with a white shirt and a black silk tie.

  “Are you done?” he asked.

  “Done with what?”

  “With your temper tantrum.”

  “My temper tantrum?” I followed him into the bathroom as he turned on the hot water within the shower. “You were...” I searched for the right word. Yes, I could call him any one of the names I’d thought of earlier, but I wanted this to be more than about name-calling. “...mean.”

  Sterling turned my direction, all beautiful six and a half feet of him, completely as he had been so perfectly created. “Mean. That’s what you think is mean?”

  “Yes. Next time, just tell me what you want. The cheek thing hurt.”

  With the shower door open, a fine mist splattered onto the floor as Sterling took a step toward me. “I could tell you about mean. I could tell you about pain. I’ve experienced both from both sides. This afternoon was neither. It’s about one thing: keeping you safe. Assuring that tomorrow, you can walk into your new office, distribution center, or warehouse without fear of harm. It’s about letting the world know that you are untouchable. Mean and hurt are what will happen if my message isn’t received loud and clear.”

  He reached for my chin, much gentler this time. “Sunshine, I can be mean and I have hurt more people than I remember. You are not on that list.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Look at me.”

  Swallowing, I did as he said and opened my eyes.

  “I meant what I said about this engagement. We’re going to a very private club in the heart of the city. It’s so elite that the tenants around it don’t even know that it’s there. There is a private party taking place. Though I was invited, I doubt they expect me to show. I rarely do. I prefer the club when it’s quiet.

  “This was too good of an opportunity to pass. I couldn’t ask for a better backdrop to show you to the world. They’ll be there. Most of them anyway. Those who aren’t will get the message. The word will spread like wildfire.

  “While there, do not talk to anyone unless I’m by your side and introduce you. If I don’t introduce you, you’re mute.”

  My teeth ground. “Fine.”

  Sterling reached forward, but not to me. He reached for his growing cock that was bobbing between us. “I have an idea.” He didn’t let me ask what it was. I honestly didn’t want to ask. “There’s nothing like my cum on your dress to tell the world you’re mine, or maybe...”

  I took a step back.

  “You could get on your knees right now. When we get to the party your lips will be swollen, and everyone will know it’s from sucking me off.”

  “Go to hell.” I turned to leave the bathroom, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me.

  “Araneae, turn around.”

  I didn’t. “I’m not getting on my knees for you.”

  “Turn around.”

  With more apprehension than I realized I could possess, I did as he said and turned to face him. Did I expect him to do as he had before and jack off on the dress? I wasn’t sure. What I didn’t expect was what he said next.

  “Do it.”

  My chin rose higher. “Go to hell. I’m not getting on my knees for you or anyone else.”

  “Good. You’re a queen. You were born to be one. Act like it. If you want to call me every name in the goddamned book, do it. Tell me to go to hell. I’ve been there and back. Do it here or later at the apartment when we’re alone. Just don’t say or do anything to lessen my power in that room. That includes your fucking silent act. Are we clear?”

  I nodded as I spoke, “Yes, Sterling. We’re clear.”

  “And one day...” A bit of a smile threatened to break through his facade. “One day, I guarantee you will be on your knees.”

  I didn’t answer as I turned again and went back to the bedroom.

  There wasn’t anything I could say because I was certain he was right.

  When it happened, it would be on my terms.

  Araneae

  My hand in Sterling’s grasp shook as he escorted me from our car, the one that Patrick had stopped in an alleyway. Once inside a building, we moved down a hallway in what, based on the delicious aromas, was the back of an upscale Italian restaurant. Coming to a stop at what appeared to be an elevator, Sterling placed his palm on a screen. Instantly, the screen came to life with green lights indicating that an elevator had been sent.

  We were truly a handsome couple, he in his custom suit and me in the Sinful Threads prototype. His suit hugged him in all the right places, accenting his broad shoulders, long legs, and toned torso. The bright white shirt contrasted with his sun-kissed complexion, and the black silk tie complemented my outfit.

  This dress was different than the one I’d worn to the dinner on the Riverwalk. This one had a plunging neckline, one that went below my breasts and an open back that forbade the wearing of a bra. The tight waist accentuated my figure, and the skirt clung to my legs, the hem hitting my calves with slits going up each side. The crystal-adorned black peep-toe pumps were from another well-known designer, and I was wearing the jewelry I’d found in the box with the red dress. The only addition to my ensemble was my charm bracelet. I hoped it would give me strength to make it through whatever awaited us above.

  Sterling reached for my wrist and turned the bracelet, examining the charms. “I’ve never seen that before.”

  “I don’t wear it often. I know it wasn’t with the things, but it is my moral support.”

  “That should be me.”

  By the sound, the elevator had stopped behind the closed doors.

  I gave him a sincere smile. “It is now. When I dressed, I was mad at you.”

  The doors slid open to a man in a uniform, complete with a hat like I’d seen Patrick wear, one with a hard bill.

  “Mr. Sparrow, welcome.”

  “Jamison, it’s nice to see you.”

  “Sir, th
e event is underway, but I know they’re honored that you would take the time to attend.”

  Sterling released my hand to place his again on my lower back. His warm fingers splayed possessively over my exposed skin. What he didn’t do as we rode higher and higher into the sky was to introduce me to Jamison, my clue to stay mute.

  As I concentrated on his hand, I decided that maybe following his directions would make this night go easier. Stay quiet, be seen, and get the hell out.

  The doors opened to an ornate foyer with dark wood trim, deep red walls, and a glistening chandelier hanging from the ceiling at least fourteen feet above us. The light from above danced upon the marble floor in prisms of color dominated by the red of the walls.

  My high heels clicked as we stepped off the elevator.

  “Mr. Sparrow,” an older woman, dressed all in black, gushed as we moved forward.

  I sucked in a breath as she came closer and Sterling leaned in, kissing each of her cheeks. A bit of green-eyed jealousy reared its head, surprising me at my own reaction in response to her perceived intimacy with my man.

  Was he mine?

  After all, he continued to say I was his.

  When had I started to think that way?

  “Evelyn,” he replied, his deep tone welcoming, “may I introduce the lovely lady accompanying me, Ms. McCrie.”

  Her movements stuttered as she offered me her hand, almost as if she knew my first name and feared that perhaps I was a real spider, ready to inject her with my venom. Politeness won as she continued toward me. I offered her my hand as we greeted one another.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Evelyn.”

  “And you, Ms. McCrie.”

  As we stepped toward the larger room, Sterling leaned down, whispering in my ear. “I guarantee in twenty seconds, everyone will know you’re here.”

  I swallowed as a cool chill settled over me. The orchestra’s music continued, yet as we stood in the entryway, conversations quelled and head after head turned our way. I scanned the room, unwilling to lower my eyes as each person stared my direction. At a table near the dance floor, I saw someone I recognized. It was Senator McFadden. I’d sat with him and his wife at the dinner at the Riverwalk. However, the blonde woman by his side wasn’t his wife. As Sterling led me inside, I tried to remember his wife’s name.

  There were three empty stools near one end of the bar. He led me to the third, farthest away from others. “Remember what I said. I need to speak to someone. When I return, we will leave.”

  “You’re leaving me alone?”

  “You’re not alone.”

  He turned to walk away as I scooted my knees around to the bar.

  “Miss, would you like a drink?” the young bartender asked after Sterling was gone. She had her brown hair styled and her uniform was black slacks and a pinstriped vest that covered her, yet left little to the imagination.

  Did this qualify as a say-nothing situation?

  I thought about answering Jana on the plane.

  “A manhattan. Thank you.”

  Leaving a square red napkin on the bar, she nodded and walked away. Farther down the bar was a younger couple, well dressed for the occasion.

  Turning my head slightly the other way, I was able to see Sterling speaking with a man a few years his senior. I recognized Sterling’s expression. It wasn’t one that I liked.

  My whiskey drink arrived in a thick crystal goblet, the maraschino cherry sinking to the bottom of the amber liquid, its stem sticking out. “Anything else?” she asked.

  This time I simply smiled and shook my head.

  Plucking the cherry from the glass, I bit the juicy fruit before taking a sip. I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but during it, a few other men joined Sterling’s discussion. They were all well dressed and all listening to whatever he had to say.

  Maybe it was nerves or the bottle of water I’d drunk in the car on the way here. Regardless, I needed to excuse myself for a minute. Surely he wouldn’t mind if I slipped away to the bathroom. I considered waiting, but his discussion didn’t appear to be ending anytime soon.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told the bartender. “Please watch my drink. Where is the ladies’ room?”

  Another quick peek toward Sterling, and I followed the bartender’s directions. For as elegant as the club was, the ladies’ room was rather small: two stalls and two sinks. I went into an unoccupied stall, hurrying with my business. Once back out to the sink, the woman washing her hands was the one I’d seen with Senator McFadden.

  With a customary smile in the mirror, I went about washing my hands when suddenly the woman gasped.

  I turned her way and asked, “Are you all right?”

  Her gaze wasn’t on me, but zeroed in on my wrist. “That bracelet...”

  My pulse kicked up a beat as I quickly reached for a cloth towel from the basket between the sinks and dried my hands.

  Her ice-cold, bony fingers that wore diamonds the size of nickels wrapped around my wrist. “Where did you get that bracelet?”

  I wasn’t comfortable answering this woman even without Sterling’s orders. I pulled away from her grip. “Excuse me, my fiancé is waiting.”

  I wasn’t sure what made me use that qualifier. Maybe it was because he’d told me he’d used it earlier to protect me. I hurried from the bathroom. As I reached the door to the club, my steps slowed. It was hardly regal to skid, slip, or fall in front of everyone. I lifted my chin as I walked toward the bar, step by step, as heads again turned. The group of men that surrounded Sterling also turned.

  I couldn’t identify even one of the other men, yet the dark stare that penetrated the crowd was focused on me. As it had the first time, it stole my breath and increased my pulse.

  With an air of the status he said I deserved, I made my way through the people and back onto the tall stool. The liquid in my drink quivered as I lifted my glass. With the rim to my lips, I hoped the contents would ease a little of the strange feeling the lady in the bathroom had given me.

  I replayed the scene. She was slender with blonde hair pulled back in an elegant twist, diamonds dangled from her ears as well as her fingers, and her gown was long and emerald green. If I really thought about it, the eerie feeling began before she asked about my bracelet. I felt it as our eyes met.

  My neck straightened as the energy around me shifted, telling me he was near even before his hand landed upon my shoulder or voice came to my ear.

  “I told you not to talk to anyone.”

  “I haven’t,” I whispered back.

  “Then how the fuck did you get that drink?”

  I turned to face him, my eyes shooting lasers—if only they could.

  His large hand grasped my upper arm. “We’re leaving.”

  My gaze went from him to his hand as the pressure on my arm built. “Sterling, you’re hurting me.”

  Instead of releasing his grip, his fingers blanched. His mouth barely moved as he growled in my ear. “Get down now, or I’ll put you over my shoulder. We’re leaving.”

  Since there was nothing I’d put past him, my heels quickly moved from the bar beneath the stool to the floor. “Is everything all right?” I asked as I stood. “Did it work?”

  Our words were low. “You’re safe.”

  Was I?

  As we began walking toward the elevator with my arm aching under his grasp, for not the first time, I questioned his statement. From whom did I need protection?

  “Mr. Sparrow—”

  “We’re leaving,” Sterling said, interrupting Evelyn.

  A commotion behind us caused both of us to turn.

  “Araneae?” the woman from the bathroom questioned, her pronunciation was like that of the real spider. “Oh my God, is it really you?”

  My lips opened as Sterling’s grip loosened, and he reached for my waist, pulling me against him.

  “Why? How?” she asked, her cheeks red and blotchy and her soft brown eyes flooding with tears. “My God, why? How are you h
ere? And why are you with him? Marrying him?”

  The doors to the elevator opened, and the smile on the man inside faded as Sterling escorted me aboard.

  “Talk to me,” she pleaded.

  “Get us downstairs,” Sterling barked as the man pushed the appropriate button.

  I reached out and stopped the doors from closing. “Who are you?”

  “Araneae,” Sterling said.

  I moved my hand back, allowing the doors to close but not before I heard her answer.

  “I’m your mother.”

  My knees went weak as I collapsed into Sterling’s arms.

  Sterling and Araneae’s story continues in LIES and concludes in PROMISES. You’re not going to want to miss the rest of this spellbinding trilogy. Preorder Lies and Promises today by clicking on titles.

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  Books by New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig

  WEB OF SIN:

  SECRETS

  Coming Oct. 30, 2018

  LIES

  Coming Dec. 4, 2018

  PROMISES

  Coming Jan. 8, 2019

  THE CONSEQUENCES SERIES:

  CONSEQUENCES

  (Book #1)

  Released August 2011