Page 109 of Sinful Sacrifice

He blows out a long breath. “Why?”

“Cernach.” I grit out his name in distaste. “This life. All of it.”

He nods. “This life is hard on women.”

Understanding flashes on his face. He didn’t love Sienna, but she was the mother of his child. Her death left his daughter motherless, and he blames this life for that.

“I won’t force her to be with me.” I grind my teeth.

“I wouldn’t judge you if you did force her.”

“Pippa wouldn’t go for that, and I respect her too much.” I could easily go to Cernach, and we could force her hand, lock her into a marriage with me until she came to terms that she was mine.

Antonio clasps me on the back. “You’re a good man, Damien.”

“I understand why she’s doing it. I’m just pissed.”

“Don’t go killing an Irish boss on me, okay? I already have enough headaches.” He opens the door and steps out, leaving me alone in my agony, my anger, my fucking madness.

PART II

38

Eleven Months Later

He still watches me.

Deep down, if I’m being honest, I like it.

As I leave my apartment, I catch sight of the familiar black SUV parked on the street. With every step I take toward The Ballet Studio—my dance studio—I sense his attention locked on me.

Two days after my breakup with Damien, I told my mother I’d never work anywhere Cernach-affiliated. I’d rather stay at Brew Bliss forever and never have my dream of a studio before I fell into his trap. She refused my job offer to work at The Ballet Studio, and our relationship has suffered.

Her not being angry with Cernach is a mystery to me.

Cernach murdered her husband.

Treated her as a bargaining chip when she grew up.

He also ruined her daughter’s relationship.

The other day, when I glanced at the time, and it read 11:11, I wished someone would murder his ass.

My apartment is located a short walk from the studio. When I tried to move back into my old apartment, Damien refused it. Not only did he lease me a new apartment but he takes care of the rent too. When I told the landlord to start charging me, he refused, telling me he wasn’t risking Damien murdering him.

I stroll down the sidewalk, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. When I enter the studio, I fall back a step.

Happy Birthday balloons fill the room.

A wrapped present sits on a table next to a stack of class schedule flyers.

I move toward the table but stop and turn when the door opens. Damien appears in the doorway.

The air suddenly feels heavy and suffocating.

Like he’s stealing my breaths, a reminder I’m only halfway living without him. Shutting my eyes for a moment, I exhale a deep breath.

He turns the lock. “Happy birthday, my sweet dancer.”

---