All Chapters of Awakened For Sin: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Fawn’s POVI couldn’t meet his eyes. My heart hammered in my chest, my mind racing for an explanation that wouldn’t sound insane. What could I possibly say? That I was Fawn Jones, murdered by my husband and his mistress, now inhabiting Cassie’s body? He’d have me committed before I finished the sentence.“I can’t,” I said finally.“Can’t or won’t?” Blake’s voice hardened, his jaw tense. “Why were you at a stranger’s funeral, Cassie? Did you know this woman?”“It’s… that is…” I managed, taking a step back. “I just… felt drawn there.”Blake moved closer, his eyes never leaving my face. “That’s not an answer. First you claim to have been murdered in a bathtub, then you show up at the funeral of a woman who actually drowned in one? What game are you playing?”My back hit the wall. There was nowhere left to retreat.“It’s not a game,” I whispered.“Then explain it to me,” he demanded, his voice dropping lower. “Tell me why my wife, who just woke up from a six-month coma, is suddenly obsess

Six Weeks LaterFawn’s POVI studied myself in the mirror, turning slowly to admire my reflection. Six weeks of brutal physical therapy had done wonders for Cassie’s body, my body now. The softness that had lingered after the coma had firmed into lean muscle. My arms no longer trembled when I lifted things. My legs carried me without complaint.The scarlet red dress I’d chosen clung to every curve, the color vivid against my pale skin. The plunging neckline revealed just enough cleavage to be enticing without crossing into vulgar territory. It was a power dress, designed to command attention, exactly what I needed tonight.I’d arranged for a bottle of my perfume to be purchased from the local market. The scent seemed the same to me, and I hoped that Richard or Gemma picked up on the fact it was the same scent Fawn had worn. Anything to throw them off.The hardest thing had been learning to walk in five- or six-inch heels when, until stepping into Cassie’s body, the maximum I’d ever wo

Fawn’s POVI needed Richard to make a play for me, creating a wedge between him and Gemma. Blake staking a claim wouldn’t help. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I saw Gemma as the weak link and a way to expose Richard and Gemma as killers.“Oh, but Blake darling, you forgot to tag on the extra part you normally do. Soon-to-be-ex-wife,” I said, smiling up at him. Blake turned and frowned down at me, most likely trying to figure out what game I was playing. But that couldn’t be helped.I studied Richard’s face carefully, watching for any reaction to my correction. His eyes flickered with immediate interest, the kind that predators get when they sense weakness they can exploit. Beside me, I felt Blake’s hand tighten slightly at my waist, his fingers pressing into the silk of my dress.“Ex-wife?” Richard repeated, his gaze sliding between Blake and me. “I wasn’t aware there were… complications in your marriage.” Then his eyes roamed my body like he had the right. I might feel like

Fawn’s POVI looked up at him, holding his gaze steadily. “You don’t get to tell me who to talk to, Blake. Not anymore.”His eyes darkened. “This isn’t about control. It’s about safety.”“My safety is my concern,” I said softly. “Not yours. You made that very clear when you walked away. Although I do find this he-man act very hot.” I fluttered my eyelashes at him.Something complicated moved across his face, frustration, guilt, and something darker that made my pulse quicken. “We’re leaving,” he said finally. “Now.”“The party’s just getting interesting,” I protested, though I didn’t resist as he guided me toward the exit. “I was looking forward to reconnecting with some of my friends.” I wasn’t really. From what I could discern from Cassie’s social media and messages, Cassie’s friends had been a bunch of bitches, with Cassie as their queen bee or bitch.“Tough,” he growled, his fingers pressing into my waist.As we made our way out, I caught Richard’s eye across the room. He raised h

Fawn’s POVBlake stared at me, his breathing still uneven, pupils blown wide with something that looked like hunger and self-loathing all twisted together. For a long moment, he didn’t answer my question, didn’t even move. Just sat there with his hands fisted on his thighs like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me again.Then he gently lifted me off his lap, setting me beside him on the leather seat. The loss of his heat made me shiver.“The best thing you can be right now is not talk,” he said, voice rough as gravel as he turned to look out the tinted window.I opened my mouth to protest, but something in his expression stopped me cold. His jaw was locked tight, a muscle ticking beneath the skin as he scanned the passing streets like they held answers he couldn’t find anywhere else. The silence stretched between us, charged with everything we weren’t saying.Everything we both wanted to say.“We’re almost there,” he muttered, more to himself than me.My dress wa