Page 94 of Sixth Sin

We get halfway down the hall when I stop him. “I want to pay for your mom to stay here.”

He stiffens. “No.”

“Let me do this. I have the money, and besides,” I bite my lip while pointing toward the window, “The witches are out there.”

Despite his scowl, a hint of a smile breaks free. “Fine. But when I get BTN in the black again, I’m paying you back every cent.”

“Deal.”

Dominic scratches the back of his head. “I guess we need to go see Everly and get this straight.” He starts to make his way down another hall when I grab his arm. “Something wrong?”

But the truth is in the pit of my stomach. It’s lodged in the back of my throat. It’s locked inside my head with the demons and the sharp claws.

And her.

“No.” I give him a weak smile. “Let’s go.”

Because if Brenda McCallum is right…

Fate’s about to come scratching.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

DOMINIC

I check my phone as another text lights up my screen.

Pieceofshitfuckercocksuckingasshole.

I stare at it, not sure whether to be offended or impressed she managed to string that many insults into one message. I’m about to respond when the chime pings again.

Drive safe.

Milly’s pissed. Not that I can blame her. For the last two months, I’ve let her shoulder all the responsibility at BTN while I’ve spent all of my time with Angel. But things are slowly creeping toward a new normal.

Is that even a thing? Because I’m not sure I ever had an old normal.

Still, Mom is safe and secure in the cushy top floor at Moss Valley, thanks to Angel’s bank account. The only reason I allowed her to do it was because I didn’t and still don’t trust Rosten. His word is about as solid as a cheesecloth.

I’m not okay with having my woman take care of my responsibilities, but I’m determined to turn BTN around and pay her back with interest. With Milly hiring a few staff members back, and daily operations running with a skeleton crew, it’s past time to get my shit in order.

Yeah, I know I called her my woman. It was a slip of the tongue. Don’t read anything into it.

Keys in hand, I’m crossing the main parlor heading toward the elevator when Hilda steps in front of me like a defensive lineman. “Sir…”

I stumble backward almost crashing into the piano. “Jesus, what the hell?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Romanov has a visitor.”

“At ten o’clock in the morning? Miss Romanov is already on set.”

She wrings her hands. Hilda isn’t a nervous person. The woman is as stealth as they come. “Yes, I know that, sir. What would you like me to tell Miss DeLuca?”

“I don’t give a damn what…” The words die in my throat. “Did you say DeLuca?”

“Yes, sir. She said her name was Vi—”

“Violet DeLuca,” I finish for her, my fingers crushing my cell phone. I have no idea what the hell she’s doing here, but it can’t be good.

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