All Chapters of Sin For Me, Mr. Virgin : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

==Elliot==---Victoria. Blocking the courthouse steps.Impeccably dressed. As always. Makeup perfect. Hair styled. Playing a role."Delilah. We need to talk.""No," Delilah said. Voice flat. "We don't.""Please. Just. Five minutes. That's all I ask.""You've had years. Decades. To talk. You chose not to. Now. Now we're getting married. And you're not stopping us."I moved to step around Victoria. Delilah with me.Victoria blocked us. Physically. Desperate."Wait. Please. I. I'm dying."Delilah froze. "What?""Cancer. Stage four. The doctors. They gave me six months. Maybe less.""You're lying.""I'm not. I swear. I. I wanted to tell you. Sooner. But. Everything happened. The scandal. The hearing. I. I didn't know how."Delilah's face. Conflict. Anger. Doubt. Grief.She wanted to believe. Wanted to not believe. Both."Show me proof," she said. "Medical records. Doctor's notes. Something.""I. I don't carry them. But. I can send them. I promise. Just. Just talk to me. Before. Before it

==Elliot==---"How should we spend it?"Delilah looked at me. Eyes dark. Hungry."I can think of a few ways.""Delilah. We're in a courthouse.""I know. Makes it more exciting.""We're getting married in an hour.""Exactly. One last pre-wedding. Activity.""You're insane.""You love it."I did. God help me, I did.She grabbed my hand. Pulled me down the hallway. Looking. Searching."What are you looking for?""Privacy. Somewhere. Anywhere. Ah. There."Single-person bathroom. Gender-neutral. Door with lock.She pulled me inside. Locked the door behind us.Small space. Sink. Mirror. Toilet. Sterile. Clinical.Didn't matter.She kissed me. Hard. Desperate."We can't," I said between kisses. "Not here. Not now.""Why not?""Because. You're wearing a dress. A white dress. For our wedding.""So?""So I don't want to. Mess it up. Wrinkle it. Make it obvious what we did.""Then be careful."She hiked up her dress. Simple. White. Knee-length. Perfect for a courthouse wedding.Underneath. Whit

==Elliot==---Photos. Quick. Efficient. Torture.What Maya promised would take five minutes stretched into fifteen, then twenty, then what felt like an eternity of standing still and smiling while the world burned around me. Every second scraped against my nerves like sandpaper."This is your wedding!" Maya insisted, her camera already raised to her eye, the shutter clicking with relentless efficiency. "We need pictures! Real ones, not just whatever Nadia caught on her phone.""We have pictures," Delilah said, her voice carrying that particular edge of patience fraying thin. "Nadia filmed the whole ceremony. We have video.""Still photos," Maya countered, already motioning for us to move closer together on the courthouse steps. "For frames. For albums. For the kind of memories you actually print and hold in your hands. Come on, you two. One more set."Courthouse steps. The late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the concrete. Us kissing while Maya directed angles. Us with frie

==Elliot==---We couldn't look away from the TV.Changed channels. Every news station. Same story. Same images.James Whitmore. In handcuffs. Being led from his home. Early morning. Disheveled. Shocked.Perp walk. Cameras everywhere. Flashes. Questions shouted."Mr. Whitmore! Did you exploit your authors?""Did you coordinate with Victoria Santos?""How many victims are there?"He said nothing. Head down. Lawyer beside him. Silent.CNN had the most detail."Federal agents arrested publisher James Whitmore this morning on multiple charges including fraud, extortion, coercion, and invasion of privacy. The FBI investigation, which has been ongoing for six months, alleges Whitmore systematically exploited authors, pressuring them to write sensationalized content, sometimes involving real people without consent."Delilah gripped my hand. Hard. Watching."The case came to light when several authors came forward with complaints. One key witness is Dr. Delilah Santos, a sex therapist whose r

==Delilah==---"Want to practice your answer?"Elliot's grin. Wicked. Dangerous."Practice how?" I asked."Role-play. I'll be Sarah Chen. Ask you questions. You practice answering. Get comfortable with. With talking about us. Publicly.""That's. Actually a good idea.""I know. I'm full of them."We set up. Living room. Two chairs facing each other. Professional. Like an interview.Elliot sat. Composed. Serious. Journalist mode."Dr. Santos. Thank you for joining me today."I laughed. "You're really doing this?""Yes. Now. Stay in character. We're practicing.""Okay. Fine. Thank you for having me.""Let's start at the beginning. How did you meet Dr. Hayes?""At a symposium. He walked into my lecture by accident.""What was your first impression?""That he was. Out of place. Uncomfortable. But. Also. Intrigued. He stayed. Despite the explicit content.""Why do you think he stayed?""I don't know. You'd have to ask him.""I'm asking you. What do you think drew him to you?"Good question.