Vicious Sins (New York Sinners Series Book 1)

15| Tainted

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Tainted

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Chapter 15: Tainted (Amara's POV)

Numerous times, I caught myself looking at Tristan as he silently drove me to my apartment. 

I couldn't stop thinking about how long he had been there, watching, or why he chose not to help me. 

Trust me, I'm well aware of how much he hates me. Despite that, how could he be okay with being a bystander? 

"Care to tell me why you went after those men?" he asked, speaking for the first time since we left the club. 

I faced out the window. "Why bother acting oblivious, Mr. Harper? You know I went for the Ambrose case." 

"I find it hard to believe you would go after such men being so underprepared. You knew who you were going up against and you chose to go without a gun?" 

My brows furrowed as I turned to look at him, pure annoyance rushing through me. "What do you suggest I do? Open fire in the middle of a club? I wanted them to cooperate." 

"We all want our rivals to cooperate, Ms. Milano. As a highly capable attorney, I'm sure you knew they wouldn't. Isn't that why you lured the easiest one out?" 

"Need I remind you, my luring got me the intel I needed." I shifted in my seat, sitting upright but my hand flew straight to my side as a surge of pain shot through my upper body. I groaned lightly before continuing, "I got more information than you ever could while you were handling this case." 

He glanced at me briefly. "Congratulations, Ms. Milano. I hope the injuries were worth the money Ambrose is going to pay you." 

"If it bothers you so much to see me hurt—" 

"It bothers me to see someone else putting their hands on what's mine, Malyshka." He looked at me. "I thought I made that clear to you." 

I stared back at him, almost in disbelief. He had to be delusional to think he could own me, to think he could own anybody. "I'm not your possession, Mr. Harper. The sooner you understand that, the better. People can't own people." 

"Do you truly believe that?" he questioned. 

I let out a light scoff and turned to look out the window again. My patience was already wearing thin after I got myself battered and bruised tonight all for some money and I was in no mood to deal with Tristan's antics and games. 

Still, I had to admit, ever since Tristan gave me that first warning, I couldn't stop thinking about why on earth he wanted me dead. It would be too petty of a motive if he were doing it simply because we were rivals and I did nothing to trigger him, nothing to push him so far off the edge. 

I wasn't as stupid as to think that he would tell me simply if I asked a little nicely. I had to coax his reasons out of him over time, gradually, and without him realizing it. So if playing his games was my only option, I had no choice but to see it through.