All Chapters of Purchased for My Sins : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Mara’s POVA week had slipped by since the locks were removed from my room.Seven days of small, fragile freedoms I still didn’t quite trust.Every morning I woke to sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling window in my new room. No keypad on the door, just pale linens, a chaise by the glass, and the distant sound of the river below. I’d lie there for a few minutes, listening to the quiet, waiting for the moment Sebastian’s voice would crackle over the intercom or the phone would buzz with an order. It never did. Not in the mornings only at night.I dressed in normal clothes, jeans, soft sweaters, flat shoes and took the elevator down to the garage. The black company car was always waiting, keys on the dash, driver discreetly absent unless I requested him. I drove myself to Memorial Sloan Kettering every day now. No one stopped me. No one followed at least, no one I could see.My son’s face lit up every time I walked into room 407. The color in his cheeks was better. His laughte

Mara’s POVThe kitchen still smelled of garlic, rosemary, and the faint sweetness of caramelized onions. Dinner had been plated, the last of the trays carried out to the warming station, and the staff had finally settled around the long oak table in the servants’ hall. Laughter bounced off the tiled walls, jokes about the new gardener’s terrible aim with the hedge clippers, Katherine’s disastrous attempt at a TikTok dance in the laundry room. I forced a smile, nodded at the right moments, but the sounds felt distant, like they were coming from underwater.Sebastian had come down earlier.I’d been wiping down the counters when he appeared in the doorway, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. He didn’t look at anyone, he crossed straight to the bar cart in the corner, pulled two crystal tumblers from the shelf, dropped ice into each with deliberate clinks, and poured a generous measure of the twenty-five-year-old vodka he kept for nights like this.Maria

Mara’s POVI woke before the alarm, heart already racing. I checked my phone, it was 5:47 a.m. Nora’s call from last night replayed in my head: another crisis. Liam’s oxygen levels had dropped again. They’d had to put him back on the mask. I hadn’t visited yesterday because of back-to-back shifts in the kitchen, and the guilt sat like lead in my stomach.By 7:45 I dressed in a soft blue sundress with hair pulled into a low ponytail. No makeup. I sat on the edge of the bed, listening for the familiar sounds of Sebastian leaving, the low rumble of his car pulling out of the drive. Only when the house fell completely quiet did I grab my bag and slip downstairs.The drive to the hospital felt longer than usual. Traffic crawled through morning rain, wipers slapping rhythmically against the windshield. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles ached, trying not to imagine the worst.When I pushed through the pediatric ward doors, the antiseptic smell hit me first. Nora was already th

Vanessa’s POVI stepped into my office, shut the door with a soft click, then pulled out my phone.My fingers flew across the screen.He’s on his way. Black Aston. ETA 20–30 min. Make it count.Send.Delete thread.No evidence. No loose ends.I couldn’t sit. Energy buzzed under my skin like live current. I paced the length of my new office, bigger than the one I used to have, past the abstract art that cost more than most people’s houses, heels clicking in sharp, satisfied rhythm.I pictured it all in vivid color.Sebastian storming through the bistro doors, face thunder-dark, eyes locked on the table like a predator scenting blood. Mara’s wide-eyed shock when the pieces clicked, when she realized the lunch she’d thought was harmless was a trap snapping shut. Victor smirking, leaning back, egging him on just enough to make the scene explode without him having to lift a finger.Phones out. Cameras flashing. Tomorrow’s headlines practically writing themselves: Kane Heir’s Mistress Caugh

Sebastian’s POVThe Aston Martin rolled into the garage with a low, predatory growl. I killed the engine. Silence rushed in like cold water.Mara didn’t wait. She pushed the passenger door open, stepped out and walked straight to the house. Every step echoed in the cavernous space.I watched her go.I didn’t stop her.I didn’t call her name. Didn’t tell her to wait. Didn’t order her upstairs or into the private room. I just sat there, hands still on the wheel, knuckles white, staring at the empty passenger seat where she’d been trembling minutes earlier.I should have followed. Should have dragged her, pinned her against the nearest wall, made her explain, made her beg, made her understand exactly what happened when you forgot who owned you. That was what the rage demanded.But something held me back.Fear.Not of her. Of what I might do if I touched her right now. One wrong word from her, one wrong look, and I might cross a line I’d never crossed before.The anger was still there and