Page 94 of Sinful Sacrifice

“You stay the hell away from me.” I don’t wait for him to reply or for my mother to say another word before spinning on my heel and storming toward the car.

As I settle myself in the passenger seat, a hard truth hits me.

There’s only one way I can get Cernach to leave me alone.

It’s ending what he wants.

I call Damien as soon as Julian swerves onto the road and hits the first red light. My hands are too shaky to hold the phone or search my purse for my AirPods, so I put the call on speaker.

“What’s wrong?” he immediately asks when he hears the shakiness in my voice.

“Cernach—he’s getting my mother right where he wants her,” I reply. “Getting me right where he wants me.”

Make no mistake, he’ll use my mother as a tool of manipulation.

At this point, I’m about to ask if he wants to marry a Lombardi if he’s so desperate for an arrangement between them.

“Fuck,” Damien hisses. “Have Julian bring you to the casino.”

Julian makes a U-turn, causing a car to blare its horn, and drives in the opposite direction.

Damien is waiting for us when Julian reaches the casino’s back entrance. A few men are standing guard, sipping water and talking among each other. I jump out of the car and run straight into his arms.

“We’ll get this figured out,” he says, soothingly running his hand over my back and veering me inside the casino.

We head straight toward his office and don’t say a word until he shuts the door behind him. Somewhere along our walk, Julian cut a right into another room.

I collapse on the sofa as Damien kneels on the floor at my feet. He listens intently as I replay what happened with Cernach and my mother. I add some expletives and rub my forehead, and a few tears slip down my cheeks.

Damien is quiet for a moment before saying, “I’ll open a studio for you then. That’ll fix our Cernach problem.”

I go completely still. “You’ll what?”

“Open a studio for you.”

A mild whoosh of vertigo strikes me. Damien rises to his feet and strolls toward his desk. In his eyes, the problem is solved.

In mine, it isn’t.

I flick at the hair tie around my wrist. “As much as I appreciate your offer, it’d put me in the same position as her. I wouldn’t own the studio, and you could easily take it away from me.” I shoot him a no offense stare.

It’s not that I don’t trust Damien. I can’t see him pulling a Cernach power move, but anything can happen. I’ve seen people turn on each other for less.

He sits in his chair, snatches a pen, and clicks it open and closed while reclining in his chair. “I’ll put it in your name. The studio will be all yours.”

I sniffle. “You’d really do that for me?”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

31

I’ve spent all morning on the phone with my attorney and real estate agent, setting things in motion to find Pippa studio space.

When she came to my office yesterday, upset about Cernach playing master manipulator, I found an easy solution. She’s always dreamed of opening her own studio, and I take pleasure in making her dreams come true.

Pippa-pleasing is my favorite hobby.

I’m mid-text to Pippa when someone knocks on my door.

---