Isle of Sin: A Standalone Dark Romance

Adalyn’s nostrils flared, her gaze boldly meeting mine. “What do I want to eat?”

“Yes. That’s what I asked. Tell me right now what you’re craving.”

Make a choice.

Tell me what you really want.

“Fine. I want eggs.” She considered for a moment. “Actually, no. Waffles. And pancakes. French toast. Lots of syrup. Sugar. And did I mention syrup? I want one of those metal boats of it. Maybe some fruit, too. Bacon. Sausage. Any chocolate you have. And some ice cream as well.”

I arched a brow. “Are we eating breakfast or dessert?”

“Why not both?” she countered.

“I see.” She was trying to press my buttons, to see what I would allow and not allow. Probably because her trainer had controlled her diet previously. Which would explain the pet-like scene Clive had shown me from her dinner with Nathan.

Well, I wasn’t Nathan Spencer.

Something she would learn, if it was the last thing I taught her.

“I’ll see what my chef can do,” I told her, stepping away from the table.

If she wanted to test the limits of my patience, I’d show her just how infinite that boundary could be.

And I wouldn’t make her kneel on the floor while I did it, either.

I recalled every detail of what she’d requested as I met with Mitch. His eyebrows were in his hairline by the time I finished. “You think you can do that?” I asked him.

He pondered my request for a few seconds before slowly nodding. “I’ll have to send Jaz out to grab some supplies from another kitchen, but yeah, it’s doable.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “I appreciate it.”

Then I met with my head waiter, Herald, on my way back to the table. “Anything to drink, sir?” he asked me.

I glanced at Adalyn. She was sitting in her chair, looking out at the sea, her shoulders tense again. She probably thought she’d pushed me too far.

I’d prove to her now that she wasn’t even close to pissing me off.

If anything, she’d thrilled me with her little show of defiance.

“Two waters, some coffee, and the most decadent hot chocolate Albert can make,” I said, referring to the bartender assigned to this location. “No alcohol, just a lot of chocolate and sweetness.”

Herald gave me an amused look. “Whipped cream, sir?”

“Yes.” What kind of hot chocolate would it be without whipped cream? “Can you also bring over a flight of juices? I don’t know what Ms. Rose prefers most, so we’ll give her all the options to choose from.”

He nodded. “Of course, sir.” He gave me a weird little smile before allowing me to resume my path toward Adalyn. He was probably amused by the sight of me having a woman at breakfast. I always dined here alone, as this entire island served as one giant office. Sometimes I played, but never here at Sinners Isle.

These were my clients.

Except for Adalyn Rose.

She was now my personal guest.

I settled into the chair across from her and noticed her wince as she shifted toward me. My lips curled down. “Are you all right?” She’d done that yesterday as well, suggesting a hint of pain in her lower body. Probably from the blade.

Typically, I enjoyed watching a woman squirm after a good spanking.

But this was different.

This situation made me want to break something.

“I’m fine,” she told me, causing my eyebrow to inch upward.

“And we were doing so well with truths,” I murmured, relaxing into my chair.

“Would you rather me tell you that my ass is sore?”

“Yes, Adalyn. I would.”

“And that my head is throbbing? That my hand feels a bit numb?” she continued, challenging me with her words.

I frowned at the hand in question. “Let me see it.”

“What?”

“Your hand.” I held my own out for her. “Let me see your hand.”

She appeared ready to argue, but one look from me had her obeying. I hated that I had to dominate her to force her to comply. However, I also understood the necessity of it. She’d been commanded her whole life. While her instinct was to rebel, she continued to do it in a way that hurt herself more. And I couldn’t allow that.

Her small hand fisted as she laid it in my palm. I gently pried her fingers apart to look at the stitches. The skin was a bit pink, but it didn’t appear to be infected at all.

“I’ll ask Dr. Zansky to stop by later today for an evaluation,” I told her. “Your hand shouldn’t be numb.” I drew my thumb along the puckered skin, softly caressing the injury before releasing her. “As for your head, that’s to be expected. Napping this afternoon would help. And your ass…” I trailed off. “The pain meds should help.”

She glanced down, making my eyes narrow.

“You’ve been taking the pain meds, right?” I’d left them in her room with instructions from Dr. Zansky. But one look at her now told me she’d ignored those directions. I sighed and shook my head. “Adalyn, those meds are there to help you.”

“They make me feel groggy.”

“Yes, which is why you should take them and sleep.”

“But then you…” She trailed off, her focus going to the water.

“If I wanted to fuck you while unconscious, I would have already,” I told her in a low tone. “And if I wanted to make you hurt, I would have done that already, too.”

“You’re just waiting.”

“For what?” I asked her. “What am I waiting for? I’ve had you in my house for two days now. Two days at my mercy. Two days where I could have done whatever the fuck I wanted to you. I realize that’s a small span of time, that trust is going to take us a lot longer to build, but ask yourself why I would wait.”

“To destroy me emotionally,” she whispered, her words so soft I almost didn’t hear them. But her eyes cleared as she met my gaze. “You’re playing a mind game with me as the ultimate form of punishment.”

“For killing Nathan?” I asked her, keeping my voice low. “I’ve already shown you the emails, Adalyn.”

“Emails can be faked.”

I blew out a breath. She wasn’t wrong.

“I’m not sure how else to prove this to you, Adalyn,” I admitted after a beat. “What you’ve been through… I can’t even begin to understand it. But I’m trying. And I understand why you expect me to hurt you in some way. All I can do is continue to try to show you who I am.”

She studied me as silence fell between us, her gaze seeming to take in my every feature.

I gave her that moment, allowing her to think through everything that had occurred between us, while quietly willing her to believe in me. At least a little bit.

Herald eventually interrupted us with a tray, bringing over every drink I’d requested.

Adalyn’s gaze grew wider and wider with each glass he set on the table. “It’s a good thing you chose a table for four,” I said, amused by the number of cups we now had between us.

“And a black coffee for you, sir.” Herald set my drink down last with a grin, then walked away, leaving us to our liquid meal.

“I wasn’t sure what juice you like,” I told her, gesturing to the sampler flight. “So I ordered one of each. You also appeared to be in a sweet mood, so I requested a hot chocolate from Albert—one of the best bartenders on the island. It’s nonalcoholic, though. And water, in case you want to chase all that sugar down with something cleansing.”

She gaped at me. “You… you ordered all this for me?”

“I did.” I picked up my coffee and blew on it. “If you need anything else, let me know and I’ll order it, too.”

“Oh, look, he does leave his villa!” a familiar voice said from behind me, making me wince.

I’d almost forgotten about Darby and Yon. Setting my coffee back down, I leaned forward. “Try to behave,” I said under my breath to Adalyn as I stood to hug my baby sister.

She flounced up to me in a bright-colored summer dress that seemed to match her personality. Yon strolled along behind her in a pair of jeans and a floral-patterned shirt, his eyes smiling as he watched Darby embrace me.

“Is the nanny working out, then?” I asked him.

He nodded. “She’s great, yeah.”

“Good.” Childcare was a service I wanted to start offering on the island, and I intended for Lauren to potentially come on full-time to lead the program. This week was an audition of sorts.

“And who is this?” Darby asked.

It didn’t take a genius to know whom she meant.

I rotated toward the dark-haired beauty at the table. She hadn’t stood, but she appeared perfectly poised in her chair, the picture of stunning elegance.

“His mistress for the week,” Adalyn replied in a tone that matched her exterior, her added smile almost meeting her eyes.

“Perhaps for more than the week,” I corrected her before refocusing on my sister. “How has your week been going?” I asked, wanting to change the subject before my sister could drill Adalyn about being my supposed mistress.

Something told me that was a line Adalyn often used in situations such as this.

Girlfriend. Mistress. Date.

My teeth nearly ground together with each term.

Pull it together, Asher.

“Is everything to your satisfaction?” I added, my brain automatically forcing the words from my mouth, as they were common ones I said to my clients.

Darby’s cheeks blossomed with twin pink shades, her dark eyes flitting to Yon before she replied, “Yes. Very satisfied.”

Yeah. Wrong choice of words. “The accommodations are acceptable?” I rephrased, my voice a bit tight. Because yeah, I did not want to know how satisfied my sister was by her husband’s antics.

And I still wasn’t over Adalyn referring to herself as my mistress.

It sounded wrong.

Dirty.

Inappropriate.

Because part of me wished it were true.

Another part of me… wanted her to be more. Which was why the more than a week comment had left me without much thought.

Of course, that was the plan—to provide her with a cover here on the island as my own personal pet. So perhaps I was just falling into my role naturally.

“It’s a gorgeous island and the rooms are very accommodating,” Yon answered, bringing me back to the discussion. His tone wasn’t at all apologetic about his wife’s blushing state. He actually kissed her on the cheek as though to praise her for her response.

Jesus fuck, this was a bad idea, I told myself. Why did I offer up my island for her honeymoon, again? Ugh.

I looked away from them and down at where Adalyn still sat, her dark gaze filled with an emotion I couldn’t exactly define. She almost appeared curious. But somehow closed off at the same time.

Darby cleared her throat and took the chair beside Adalyn. “What are we eating for breakfast?” she asked.

“Whatever Mr. Sinner ordered,” Adalyn replied without missing a beat.

I gave her a look. “I ordered exactly what you requested, sweetheart.” I glanced down at the abundance of drinks, telling her I meant it.

She blinked as though surprised, her full lips parting.

But my sister spoke before Adalyn could deliver any sort of response. “Which was…?” she prompted.

“None of our business,” Yon interjected, his palm sliding around the back of her neck. “I believe they were just enjoying a private breakfast, something we should consider doing as well.”

Darby scoffed at that, pulling a napkin into her lap. “And give up an opportunity to learn more about my brother’s mistress? No, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a request, baby.”

“Then consider me in a bratty mood,” she replied.

Yon gave me an apologetic look, then leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Whatever that something was had her lips parting and her gaze flashing up to his.

He righted himself in the next moment, his eyebrow arched in a way that said, Your move, love.

Darby cleared her throat and slowly set her napkin back on the plate. “Right. I forgot we had plans for breakfast.” She slowly pushed away from the table, her gaze meeting mine. “Sorry.”

“No apologies needed,” I assured her, as well as Yon. I wasn’t about to be the cause of whatever kinky punishment he intended to deliver.

Darby whispered a polite goodbye to Adalyn, saying she hoped they could speak more later.

And then Yon escorted my now squirming sister to the opposite end of the room.

I sighed, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t have offered my island for their honeymoon.” It was a thought that had already rolled through my mind, one I felt compelled to say out loud.

Adalyn glanced around me, watching whatever Yon and Darby were doing behind me, her expression pensive. “She seems… content.”

“Oh, she’s more than content. She’s positively spoiled,” I muttered, taking my seat—which, thankfully, faced away from my sister and her husband’s table. “Yon is head over heels for her. Which is probably a good thing, or he’d be answering to seven very protective older brothers.”

“Seven?” Adalyn repeated.

I nodded. “My dad had eight kids. I’m number seven. She’s number eight.”

Her lips parted. “Oh.”

I shrugged. “Sounds like a lot, but he had three different wives. Darby, Tru—who is number six in the Sinner family—and I all share a mom. The others are split between the first two wives.” Which wasn’t how I usually referred to my father’s exes, but it was easier than explaining their names and associations.

“I see. And was he…?”

“An Elite member?” I finished for her, the question giving me an idea. “What would happen to an Elite Bride after a divorce?”

She blinked at me. “Divorce doesn’t exist in our circle.”

“Ever?” I pressed, my idea sharpening.

She considered it for a long moment and slowly shook her head. “Not that I’ve ever heard of. Elite Brides… can… disappear.” She swallowed. “But they’re presumed dead.” Her gaze darkened. “They might actually be dead. Or they might be somewhere worse.”

That was the fate she feared—the something worse.

However, she’d just provided me with another way to prove I wasn’t part of the network.

“And I assume fathers and sons in your circle both take Elite Brides.”

“Yes.” She gave me a strange look, like she couldn’t figure out why I had all these questions—questions an Elite member would know the answers to.

“And your mother?” I pressed. “Was she an Elite Bride?”

She dipped her chin just enough to confirm it.

“I see.” Well, at least that explained how a mother could do something like this to her daughter—she didn’t have a choice. “My father married and divorced three times. All three women are very much alive.” I pulled my phone from my pocket to find a photo of my own mom. “This was taken a few months ago when she came to visit.”

“Without your father?”

“My father’s no longer with us,” I told her. “Seven years ago. He left all his kids a Sinners club.” I smiled. “I picked this one.”

She studied my phone. “So your mom is free of him.”

I snorted. “My mom isn’t free of anything or anyone. She married my father for love; it just didn’t last. They divorced well before he died.”

I pulled my phone away from her and slid it back into my pocket.

“My father enjoyed his playmates, and he’s always been into the lifestyle,” I explained softly. “Hence his gifting of the clubs. The only rule he had was that each location had to be used for BDSM in some way, not for anything else. So I turned my island into a fetish resort for those who require secrecy.”

She glanced around. “It’s certainly secluded.”

“Yes. And it obviously made me a target for the Elite of your world.” I picked up my coffee to take a sip, my eyes holding hers. “I’m not part of the network, Adalyn.”

Her gaze left mine to focus on something behind me, her lips flattening. “I’m starting to believe you, Asher.”

I couldn’t tell if she was saying that to try to expedite whatever game she thought we were playing or if she actually believed it. But I suspected it was my sister she had her eyes on.

There was no denying how happy Yon made her.

That sort of act couldn’t be faked.

So I gave Adalyn her quiet moment and just enjoyed the sea breeze.

Suddenly, her eyes widened, making me frown. “Adalyn?”

I glanced over my shoulder, trying to figure out what had her so shocked.

“Oh.” I grinned at the parade of dishes making their way to our table. “Breakfast time.”

Adalyn’s jaw was on the ground as I faced her again.

My smile grew.

Her expression alone was worth every calorie we were about to consume. “Bon appétit, sweetheart.”