Page 64 of The Wages of Sin

I raised my hands, scrubbing them over my face again and again.

I’d never been so confused…not even during those first few days on the run. Back then, I might have been scared and alone, but at least my moral compass was still intact. The world might have thought I was guilty, but I knew the truth.

I knew I was innocent. I knew I was principled. I knew I was still a good person.

But not anymore.

Now, everything I thought I knew about myself was in doubt.

How innocent could I be if I let someone with blood-stained hands touch me in the most intimate ways? How principled was it to love every damn minute of it? How good could I be if I spent every waking moment daydreaming about doing it again?

Clearly, I’d been lying to myself.

Either I’d been surviving in the criminal margins of society for so long that I’d become corrupted, or I was never as virtuous as I like to imagine myself.

Truth be told, it was probably a bit of both.

But when I heard the bathroom door open, it was time for self-reflection to take a backseat. I opened my eyes to see Dorian’s shadow outlined in the frame.

“I hate to rush you,” he said, his deep, rumbling voice affecting me even as the image of what he’d done to Carlo was fresh in my mind. “But we have an appointment to make.”

My confusion only grew.

“We do?” I asked, even as I turned off the water.

“I’ve arranged another meeting with my brothers,” he said. “And you’re coming with me.”

“Do I have to go?” Stepping out of the shower, I gratefully took the soft, fresh towel he held out for me.

“Yes,” he answered plainly, stepping back to watch me dry off. “There’s a chance Sal might return before I can change the locks. I won’t risk him finding you here alone.”

I swallowed down past the lump that was quickly forming in my throat.

Though I’d spent most of the conversation between the two men focusing on Dorian’s horrible confessions, there was no denying Sal D’Angelo was frightening in his own right. Simply sitting in a chair, the man radiated a cold, calculating kind of danger.

Dorian was right—I didn’t want to find myself alone with Sal.

“Okay,” I said with a half-hearted nod before drying my body and wrapping the towel around my hair.

“Kiera.” He wrapped his hand around my arm, stopping me as I tried to step out of the bathroom. His deep blue eyes probed mine. “Is everything all right?”

I was careful to keep my expression flat as I met his gaze.

“I’m romantically entangled with a notorious assassin, and now I have to go out to meet up with his gangster brothers because his mob boss uncle might kill me if I stay home alone. What could possibly be wrong?”

Clearly, Dorian wasn’t a fan of sarcasm. I watched the muscles along his jaw twitch as he stood there silently staring at me for a few seconds. I felt a rush of satisfaction when he was the one to blink first.

“Sal isn’t my uncle,” he said, letting go of my arm.

I shook my head in disbelief as I went to the closet to get dressed.

“That’s the only part I got wrong? You do realize how disturbing that is, don’t you?”

“It sounds like you just need a little extra time to come to terms with who I really am.”

“Honestly, that part makes perfect sense,” I said, pulling on a fresh bra and panty set. “If I hadn’t been drowning in denial, I would have seen it long ago. It’s who I am that’s going to take me a while to wrap my head around.”

“What are you talking about?”

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