Page 114 of Sinful Sacrifice

Emilio salutes me, and Julian nods.

As I exit the warehouse, I wonder what time she’ll come to me.

Eight hours later, she does.

I’m aware she’s coming before she arrives at Antonio’s. As I sit back and stare at my phone, I watch the pin tracing her path on the screen—compliments of the GPS tracker I planted in her car.

She takes a left.

A right.

Getting closer and closer.

Vito, the gate guard, calls and interrupts my tracking.

“I have one pissed-off dance teacher here,” he says around an annoying-ass chuckle. “Do you want me to allow her through?”

“Yes.” I hang up, push out of my chair, and slip my phone into my pocket while walking toward the door.

Welcome to the shit show.

Her silver Audi’s headlights beam through the darkness as she races down the driveway and abruptly brakes. In a matter of seconds, she’s out of the car.

Leaving the door open, I step backward and wait for her. We have snipers stationed all over the property, and they’re nosy. We’re not having this conversation in the open. It’ll also be easier to trap her inside and prevent her from leaving until she hears me out.

She enters the house like a storm of beauty and madness.

Her face is red and charged with betrayal.

“Pippa—” I raise my palm as she stampedes toward me.

If I wasn’t so pissed and it wasn’t her, I’d find such a petite woman coming for my blood comical. I’d also applaud her for having balls bigger than most men in this city.

“Fuck you, Damien,” she screams, her ponytail swinging with the force of her pace as she comes closer. “I wish I’d never met you, let alone allowed you to touch me.”

People have beaten the shit out of me.

Teased me.

Shot me once.

But the strike of her words hit harder than any of them.

“I’m warning you, Pippa,” I grit out.

“And I’m warning you to never speak to me again.” She slices her hand through the air as if it’ll rip apart all our history. “That’s the last words you’ll ever hear me say.”

I scoff when she turns to leave.

Don’t think so, sweetheart.

I clutch her forearm, yanking her backward, and her back falls against my chest.

“What the hell?—”

I spin her around, pinning her against the wall, and rest my hands against them. She doesn’t jump, and there’s no fear in her eyes.

She huffs, glaring at me as if I’m her worst enemy, not a man she once gave herself to.

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