Mr. Sin: Book One of the Sin Series
Mr. Sin: Chapter 8

I tip my head down, pretending to read the paper laid out on the conference table in front of me. In reality I’m hiding a yawn. And a glance at my watch has me stifling a groan. I don’t need to be here. I can hardly think of anything more tedious than a meeting that’s sole purpose is to prepare for another meeting. I have so many other things I need to be doing, but I’m the idiot that agreed to sit in on this.

Angelo is in the seat next to mine, playing a game silently on his phone. But he’s the head of security, so no one cares if he’s paying attention to this bullshit. Which is good because he’s been tuned out since the first five minutes.

Rolling my shoulders, I raise my head. Since I’m not leading the meeting, I chose a seat at the far end of the table, out of the way. From here I can see out one wall of windows to the city below, and out the other wall of windows into the hallway. I make a mental note that there should be blinds in here on both walls since it’s currently not a very private room to conduct business in. This isn’t the executive floor, but I want all of the conference rooms to have privacy.

Movement in the hallway pulls my gaze. I’ve been watching the movers haul stuff back and forth all day, nearly jealous of the hard labor they’re performing. This is a nice chair and all, but I’ve been sitting here so long my ass is numb. What I wouldn’t give for a little physical activity right about now.

The sight of women, rather than movers, has my attention focusing as they pass by the wall of windows. There’re very few staff in the building today, so I hope these ladies walk slowly. It’ll give me something to watch for a few moments, the lack of curtains suddenly paying off.

Neither woman is very tall. They’re walking side by side so I can only really see the one closest to the glass. She looks young, mid 20’s, and has black hair cut into a severe bob. Past her I can see flashes of shiny brown hair, but that’s it. My mind starts to wander when I realize that the one with the dark hair looks a little like the suit designer from those Incredible movies. But then she throws her head back laughing. And I bolt upright in my seat.

I can see the other woman now.

My chest expands and my blood heats.

It’s Sasha. My Sasha. My little Vegas runaway. Here.

I rise from my chair.

My cousin Angelo tilts his head at me, an unspoken question. I shake mine, signaling him to stay put, then walk to the door.

Some of the people in the meeting are watching me, but I don’t care.

That girl owes me a fuck.