Page 42 of Sinful Sacrifice

My eyes meet her brown ones as I carefully take out the necklace and pass it to her.

With the same caution as I had, she grips it tight. “Let’s go to the mirror so you can see yourself.”

They follow me to the full-length mirror in my bedroom. Genesis stands behind me. Since she’s nearly four inches taller than me, she easily sees my reflection.

Darcy stands by my side as Genesis clasps the necklace around my neck. My heart is on fire as I rest my hand on the necklace. I press it into my skin as if wanting to fuse it there. We take a moment of silence to appreciate the beauty of the necklace.

“It’s gorgeous, Pippa,” Genesis says, brushing her fingers along my shoulder.

“You are gorgeous,” Darcy adds. “Have a great time tonight, babe. You’ll find dress options in the garment bags on the couch.”

I nod, dancing my fingers over the charms.

The dancer.

The deck of cards for his life at the casino.

My heart flutters.

Ten minutes later, I hug them goodbye. “Thank you so much for today.”

I’m on top of the world, still wearing the necklace, and unzip the garment bags to find three stunning dresses.

The price tags are missing, but the labels reveal each one is more expensive than anything I’d ever be able to afford.

“Two hours,” I mutter to myself, checking the time. “Two hours until he’s here.”

15

Damien knocks on my door at 7:58.

Nervously tugging at my sleeves, I walk to the door. I spent an hour deciding which dress to wear, trying on each one three times before choosing a linen-silk corset dress with long, wispy sleeves.

A chill runs up my spine when I answer to find him standing in front of me.

“Baby.” He swipes his thumb along the edge of his mouth. His dark eyes roam down my figure before returning to mine. He runs his tongue across his lips. “You look gorgeous.”

If any other man gave me that kind of stare down, I’d call him a disrespectful ass. But with Damien, it feels romantic and makes me feel beautiful.

I have no shame in doing the same with him. Even though he’s shaved, his familiar five-o’clock shadow is still etched on his jawline and cheeks. Fallen strands of hair brush his thick eyebrows. I appreciate his black suit and crisp navy button-up that hug his body just right.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

“You ready to go?” He offers me his hand. “The car is waiting.”

He clasps mine tightly, escorting me downstairs. The sun casts a graceful orange hue across the sky when we walk outside.

“New wheels?” I ask when he stops us at a black Escalade and opens the door.

“We have a driver tonight.” He assists me in the back seat, and I settle against the leather.

An older man in the driver’s seat peers over his shoulder at me and smiles. “Hi, Pippa. I’m Augusto.”

I return the smile and wave. “Hey, Augusto.”

Damien ducks into the back seat with me, sliding over until our thighs are pressed together. Our closeness steals my breath, and I rest my hand on my leg to calm myself. He always gets a reaction out of me.

“L’ultima Cena,” he instructs Augusto.

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