Stolen by a Sinner (Sinners #3)(38)

Huh?

I shake my head, not understanding the question.

Gabriel pulls a hand from his pocket and loosens the tie around his neck. I watch as he undoes the top button, and before he shoves the tie into his pocket, he mutters, “You have to be of some kind of value to Mazur.” His eyes lock with mine again. “Mazur never said you were to marry someone or…” A look of disgust tightens his features for a moment, “had you sexually please any of his clients?”

My eyebrows pull together, and when I realize what Gabriel’s asking, I start blinking, my face flaming up as if it’s on fire. “No.” I glance all over the garden, feeling stupidly self-conscious.

When Gabriel remains silent, I sneak a quick peek at him, only to find his eyes on me, surprise tightening his features as he realizes something. “You’re a virgin. Fuck, that could be it.”

I lower my gaze again, but then Gabriel asks, “Did Mazur deal in sex slavery?”

I quickly shake my head. “I don’t know what kind of business he did. Sometimes I saw drugs and weapons.”

“There were never girls coming and leaving the house?”

“None that I saw,” I answer truthfully.

With one hand still in his pocket, Gabriel lifts his other hand to his face, his thumb wiping over his bottom lip.

Again I blink as my heart skips a beat, and there’s a weird dipping sensation in my stomach.

His golden eyes drift slowly over me, then he murmurs, “You can go inside, Lara.”

Nodding, I walk away and slip back into the house via the side door.

I feel frustrated that I couldn’t be of more help, but Tymon had us all living in such fear that we never dared disobey him and kept our heads down.

It was the only way to survive.





Chapter 24


Gabriel



While I’m getting ready for the function I totally forgot about, I keep replaying the conversation with Lara in my head.

She’s a virgin, but that can’t be the reason why Mazur wants her back. The man told me to fuck her before sending her back, so it’s definitely not to sell her virginity on the black market.

After I’ve put on a pair of diamond cufflinks and my Rolex, I let out a sigh. The last thing I’m in the mood for is socializing with people I don’t give a shit about. I’m only going for my grandmother.

Dressed in a black tuxedo, I leave my bedroom and take the stairs to the lower floor. Emre’s already waiting in the entrance hall, looking bored as fuck as he watches videos on his phone.

When he notices me, he says, “You have to watch this one.”

“Emre, I’m in no mood to watch videos,” I mutter as I let out another sigh. “Going to this fundraiser is torture enough.”

“Allah Allah,” my grandmother exclaims. “It’s for the polar bears. You’ll attend and donate enough to save the poor animals, and you’ll do it with a smile on your face.”

Putting a smile on my face, I take my grandmother’s hand and help her down the last couple of steps. Dressed in a black gown, she looks like the monarch of the Turkish mafia that she is. “You look beautiful, Babaanne.”

A happy smile graces her lips, then she wags her eyebrows. “I still have the touch.”

“You certainly do,” Emre compliments her as well. “Ready?”

“Let me just tell Nisa we’re leaving,” she says.

I follow her to the kitchen, where Nisa and Lara are cleaning up after dinner. Worried that my conversation with Lara might have set her back, I search her face for any signs of anxiety.

A smile spreads over her face, her eyes widening as she looks at my grandmother. “You look so beautiful, Alya Hanim,” she breathes in total wonderment.

“Thank you, Lara. The child is so sweet.” My grandmother turns her attention to Nisa. “We’re leaving.”

“You don’t have to announce it,” Nisa mutters. Over the years, Nisa and my grandmother have become good friends and more like sisters, so I know there’s no malice in her words.

Lara glances at me, and I swear I see interest flashing in her eyes before she vigorously starts to wipe down the counters.

I stare at her until my grandmother pats my arm. “Stop daydreaming. We’re going to be late.”

Shaking my head, I hold my arm for my grandmother to take and lead her out of the house. The moment we’re all seated in the limousine with Mirac at the steering wheel and Kerem in the front passenger’s seat, my thoughts turn to Lara.

It feels like she’s taking over my thoughts every chance she gets.

Staring out of the window, I wonder how such an innocent creature survived hell for so long. Lara’s pure in every way.

So fucking beautiful on the inside, it shines from her.

My heart constricts, and I shift on the seat to rid myself of the weird sensation.

There was definitely interest in her eyes, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s because she’s attracted to me.

It could also be Stockholm syndrome, Gabriel. Don’t read too much into it.

I exhale loudly, not happy about the thought. I fucking hope it’s not Stockholm syndrome. The last thing I need is Lara becoming infatuated with me because she feels grateful and mistakes it for love.

Really? Would it bother you?