“Enough. I do not need or want to hear more. The trial will go on as planned, and you will lose. Your mind has not even been searched and we already have enough to bury you. The abuses of authority you carried while Mayor of the city of Bindsare almost too well documented. Your misappropriation of public funding, not to mention all the workers you have refused to pay, will put you away for years.” Standing, Sin buttoned and smoothed down his suit jacket. “I suggest you put your affairs in order, your time as a free man is coming to an end.”
Mr. Lundgren lunged and grabbed the front of Sin’s jacket, while bellowing, “You can't do this to me! Do you know who my family is?”
Glaring down at the man, Sin fought to control his anger. Yes, the man was filth. Yes, his touch made Sin’s skin crawl. But Mr. Lundgren was not worth falling to the ever-present rage prowling at the back of his mind—too many consequences.
Sin encircled Mr. Lundgren’s wrists and slowly began to squeeze, tightening his grip until the man let go. “I will say this only once. Do not touch me again,” Sin growled before he released him, and once again smoothed down his clothes. He would definitely be changing when he returned home. A wash was always required after brushing with such garbage.
“And I am not doing anything to you. You did it to yourself with your uncontrolled greed. Who your family is, does not matter. This is not the First Realm, where money pardons all crimes. This is the Second Realm. Your money and family cannot save you here.”
The man appeared too baffled to speak, which suited Sin just fine. Sin gave the man a snide smirk and left.
Striding quickly through the hotel, Sin couldn't help but wonder in amazement at the arrogance of some criminals. The ones with money tended to be more so. They were less moral and unrepentant of their actions than those who hadnothing. It was not always the case, but it was true more often than not.
Sin personally blamed the influx of news and movies coming from the human realm. So many horrible crimes were left unpunished, some committed by the very individuals meant to hand down judgment. With a world so unjust, Sin could not fathom how anyone could trust that they would get the retribution they were due.
Foolishly, some immortals had begun to believe that the realities of the First Realm applied to them—that justice would only be wrought on the poor.
The doorman tipped his hat and opened the door for him. Nodding politely, Sin stepped through it. He found himself pausing right outside, peering vacantly at the street and the large park beyond it as he remembered that he sent his car away. Sin hadn't known at the time how long he would be. Had he known the meeting would only last ten minutes, he would have told his driver to wait.
Shoulders sagging, Sin sat on the bench in front of the bakery next door. He pulled out his cell phone, but a voice had his finger freezing above the call button.
“Hey,” that soft voice called out again.
Glancing back, Sin saw a beautiful young man with curly white hair and long pointed ears leaning against the building behind him. The man’s eyes were a glowing teal. His jawline was sharp, but that sharpness was softened by his bow-shaped lips and his slightly upturned nose. If Sin were to guess, he would say the man was about five foot four.
Sin slid his phone back into his pocket and stood to face him. “Is there something I can do for you, young man?”
“Hmm. It's more what I can do foryou,” the stranger purred with a kittenish smile.
His eyebrows rose at the blatant come on. While part of him was flattered, the other part noticed the emptiness in the young man's smile. It was well-practiced, no doubt, and would have fooled many.
Of course, most would probably be too focused on the arcadian's body. The tightness of his clothes would not be easy to ignore. But, the boy had no interest in him—that he was sure of. Sin would bet his left arm that he was after money, and had no intention of sleeping with him to get it.
Sin crossed his arms. “What you’re offering does not interest me.”
“Is that so? Well, I think you’re wrong. In fact, I guarantee you’ll be very,verypleased with what I have to offer.” Gliding forward gracefully, the young man brushed against him, his right hand gripping and massaging Sin’s left bicep.
He would admit, the boy lied very well. With that skill, combined with his good looks, Sin was sure many had fallen for the ploy. But Sin was not so easily fooled. He also had an underlying suspicion that the young man was underage, which begged the question of whether he was stealing to survive or for fun.
Sin was about to rebuke him when a scent tickled his nose—blood. It was not the pungent scent of blood that flowed from torn skin. It was the smell of blood when it pooled underneath the skin, gathering in large quantities to damage what surrounded it. The arcadian in front of him was bleeding internally.
Inspecting the man closely, Sin began to notice other things. The shallowness of his breathing, the stiffness of hisbody—the child was in pain. The word ‘child’ seemed to fit the more he examined him—a teen, at most. And that alone had him changing his mind.
Smirking, Sin lied, “You may be right. Why don't you show me?”
Cecil worked the man’s suit jacket off his broad shoulders and tossed it on the bed. Just from touch, he could tell it was made of quality material.
“Why don't you freshen up?” Cecil suggested with a fake smile.
The man peered back at him and he felt a nervous fluttering in his stomach. Cecil was always pretty hyped up when alone with one of his ‘benefactors’. The chance of getting caught or beaten was always there. And for some reason, Cecil felt that this particular man saw more than he should. He was calm, his expression neutral, but it seemed off.
Usually, Cecil would have left rather than risk finding out why. Something was holding him back though. He didn’t know what. Just some feeling that he shouldn’t leave. It was completely idiotic.
Well, if things went to hell, Cecil supposed he could always blame it on his lightheadedness. Because he was seriously having trouble breathing at the moment. So he would be pretty fucked if he had to fight Mr. Expensive Suit off—or run…
A smile slid onto the guy’s face and he said, “What a wonderful idea. I think I will, thank you.”
Cecil had to say, the man was a hell of a lot more polite than any of the others he’d stolen from. To be honest, it was kind of creepy. His smile looked genuine, though, which had him wondering why he was having trouble believing it was real.
