Page 173 of King of Sin
The door slammed shut behind her with a sharp, echoing bang.
Outside, the air hit her face, but she didn’t slow down. Her expression remained taut, anger still simmering beneath her skin as she forced herself to breathe evenly. She had barely taken a few steps when her gaze caught movement near the gate.
A black car had just come to a stop.
The door opened.
Vincent stepped out.
For a fraction of a second, both of them froze in place.
His eyes locked onto hers immediately, widening just slightly in surprise before recognition settled in. Then his expression hardened almost at once—his jaw tightening, a visible tension pulling through his face as something unspoken passed betweenthem. The air between them shifted, thickening, charged, as though the moment itself had snapped taut.
Vincent started walking toward her.
Juliet didn’t stop. Instead, she shifted slightly aside, attempting to pass him without engagement, her steps quickening as if avoiding him could dissolve the situation entirely.
But Vincent moved before she could slip past.
In a sudden, decisive motion, he stepped directly into her path, bent slightly, and before she could react, lifted her cleanly onto his shoulder.
Juliet let out a sharp gasp, shock jolting through her as her hands instinctively struck his back. “What the hell are you doing?!” she snapped, her voice rising as she struggled against his hold.
Vincent didn’t answer.
He turned with steady control and carried her back toward the car as though her protests didn’t matter at all. The door was opened, and in one firm motion he placed her inside before shutting it immediately after, cutting off her escape.
Juliet reached for the handle at once, fingers tightening as she tried to force it open, but it didn’t move. Locked.
Her breath hitched sharply in frustration as she twisted toward him just in time to see him slide into the driver’s seat.
The engine roared to life a second later.
At the sound, Alexa rushed out of the house, her voice breaking through the tense air. “Vincent!”
But he didn’t look back. The car reversed smoothly, then shot forward, pulling away from the house without hesitation.
Inside the moving car, Juliet turned sharply toward him, anger flaring back to life. “What the hell are you doing? Where are you taking me?”
Vincent still didn’t respond.
His grip remained tight on the steering wheel, knuckles slightly tense, jaw clenched so firmly it looked as though he was holding something back with sheer force. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, refusing to acknowledge her, and that silence only deepened the pressure inside the car until it felt almost suffocating.
Minutes later, the car came to a sudden stop in front of a large house.
Before the engine fully died, Vincent was already out. He moved around quickly, opened her door, and waited as she stepped out.
The moment Juliet tried to walk past him, he shifted again, blocking her path without a word.
His hand shot out and closed around her wrist.
“Let go of me,” she snapped instantly, pulling back with force—but his grip only tightened as he pulled her forward, dragging her along without a single explanation.
She struggled and tried to pull her hand free, but Vincent's grip remained firm around her wrist, his fingers locked around her as though letting go wasn't even an option. Without giving her a chance to escape, he dragged her toward the luxury house. Juliet stumbled after him, irritation rising with every step. She dug her heels into the ground several times and twisted her wrist in an attempt to break free, but Vincent didn't so much as loosen his hold.
As soon as they entered the house, Juliet's steps faltered.
The living room wasn't empty.
