In the arms of two sins

Chapter 31

Elias POV

“You should have gone home.”

The words came out harsher than I intended, sharp, edged with a raw worry I refused to show on the surface.

It was late. Too late for her to still be here.

I had assumed she was home after noticing her absence from the family dinner. Margaret confirmed she hadn't returned. Her car wasn't in the garage. By ten o'clock, she was still not back. I immediately rushed back here, only to find her waiting.

Why did she insist on putting me through that anxiety?

She stood in front of me, her bag clutched to her side, eyes wide and tired, yet stubbornly steady. The company floor behind her was dim, most of the lights already shut down, the silence pressing in from all sides.

“I needed to talk to you,” she said. “It’s urgent.”

“Whatever it is,” I replied, my voice rising despite myself, “it can wait until we’re home.”

Her brows pulled together. “Why can’t it happen now?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but stopped myself. Not here. Not like this. Not when she looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days.

“We’re going home,” I said instead, turning away before she could argue again.

I walked toward the elevator, my steps firm and deliberate. I pressed the button and waited. When the doors slid open, I gestured for her to enter first.

She hesitated, then stepped inside.

I followed, the doors closing behind us with a muted thud.

The silence inside the elevator felt heavier than it should have.

I caught my reflection in the mirrored wall, and hers beside it.

David’s voice echoed in my head, tormenting me: “You think you’re not forbidden to have feelings for your brother’s wife?”

I clenched my jaw.

Did I?

I looked at Mara without meaning to.

She stood perfectly still, eyes forward, hands clasped together. Her presence filled the space, making my chest tighten. I shouldn’t have been looking at her like this. I shouldn’t have been thinking about anything David had said.

And then, the lights flickered.

Once. Twice.

The elevator lurched violently.

“What…” Mara gasped.

The lights went out completely.

The sudden darkness was followed by a jolt so sharp it threw us off balance.

“Mara!” I shouted, adrenaline flooding my system.

She stumbled forward instinctively, arms reaching for something, and collided hard into my chest. She grabbed onto my shirt, her fingers digging in, her breath ragged.

“I’ve got you,” I said immediately, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her in, shielding her without a thought. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Her body trembled against mine.

The elevator dropped slightly, then stopped with a harsh metallic groan.

Mara let out a small cry, her grip tightening.

I held her closer, one hand firm at her back, the other braced against the wall to steady us. “It’s alright,” I murmured into her hair. “I’m here.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed security. “Elevator malfunction,” I said sharply. “West shaft. Fix it now.”

The line went dead.

Before I could say anything else, the elevator shuddered again, harder this time.

We lost our footing.

She slipped.

Instinct took over.

I twisted, reaching out, my arm snapping beneath her head as we fell. Pain shot through my hand as it struck the floor first, but I barely registered it. All I wanted was to ensure she didn't get hurt.

Her body landed against mine.

The elevator screeched and finally came to a dead stop.

Smoke hissed softly from the ceiling.

“Mara,” I checked, concern choking my voice. “Mara, look at me.”

No response.

Her head rested against my arm, eyes closed, face alarmingly pale.

My chest constricted with panic.

“No no, no.”

I lifted her carefully, cradling her against me. The doors had partially opened, just enough to be forced apart.

I didn’t wait for security.

I carried her out and took the stairs, upward. Each step was a burning effort, but my grip only tightened every time her body shifted.

At the top floor, I kicked the heavy door open.

The private executive suite was dark, untouched, and silent.

I laid her gently on the massive bed, adjusting her position, making sure her breathing was even.

She looked… fragile.

Too fragile for someone who carried the weight of the company and our family on her shoulders. Her beautiful copper hair was spread across the pillow and her face.

I brushed her hair back from her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ear before I fully realized what a dangerously tender gesture I was making.

My hand stilled.

I was becoming too soft toward the woman I was meant to despise. The moonlight glowed on her features, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek.

She was truly the prettiest woman I had ever seen.

I trailed my finger lightly along her face, feeling the shocking softness of her skin.

I noticed a small scrape, she must have gotten hurt during the fall. I stood up, went to the drawer, retrieved first-aid supplies, and returned quietly.

I cleaned the tiny wound with meticulous care, my movements slow, deliberate, focused solely on not waking her.

When I finished, I pulled the duvet gently over her and stepped back.

Her fingers twitched slightly, as if the shock still lingered in her body.

Without thinking, I reached out and held her hand. Her palms were moist and soft. Her hand was so small that mine completely enveloped it. I stared at her while she slept, the deep, undisturbed rhythm of her rest bringing me immense relief. My eyes wandered from her lips, down to her fair cleavage, the way it was emphasized by her fitted dress.

Were they disturbing her?

I couldn't touch her while she was asleep; I couldn't risk her thinking otherwise about me. But my mind was consumed by the urge to know how her cute n*****s would feel in my wet mouth.

I imagined sucking and pleasuring her there. I pictured feeling her wetness with my fingers before running my tongue along it. I imagined her legs shaking and her moaning my name, raw and uncontrolled. I imagined her hands pulling me closer to kiss me. I imagined sinking into her, watching her beg me to continue, to release myself inside her.

I wanted to taste all of that. Only from her. No other woman.

I felt myself hardening from the violence of my thoughts and realized I had crossed every limit of decency and self-control.

These were the things I wanted to do to her. If she wasn't weak and injured, I would wake her up with my wet tongue below her.

She was the only woman I wanted to make feel special.

I swallowed down my saliva, coughing slightly to break the hold of the urge.

I released her hand and turned away, running a frustrated hand through my hair.

Get it together, Elias.

This room wasn’t meant for moments like this.

I walked around, forcing myself to focus on anything else—the walls, the shelves, the framed photographs lining the far table.

Family photos.

Board events.

I knew about the executive suite, but I had never had the intention of being in here. She was the only reason I was here now.

I turned back to the pictures.

Then one image stopped me cold.

A photograph of Philip standing beside a woman that looked familiar, as if I had seen her before.

There was something about the picture. It looked….intimate.

And the date written beneath it was during the period he was still married to Mara.

Who was this other woman my brother had?