Page 163 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

“Fuck off, Pietro,” I growled, ripping myself away from him. “Don’t bother me again with this shit.”

50

sage

Two hours after we returned from the airport, Laila and I cooked pasta in their kitchen for Constantino. He hadn’t said much about what he had to do, but he had looked stressed when he left. So, I’d thought it’d be nice for him to come home to a warm meal.

“Can you grab the strainer?”

“The strainer?” Laila asked, glancing into the pantry.

“The strainer is a metal bowl with holes in it,” I said. “It should be in a cabinet.”

Laila didn’t know the first thing about cooking. Honestly, I wasn’t sure she had cooked a day in her life. And I mean, I wasn’t the best at making pasta, especially the Italian way, but we were trying our hardest to make something … edible.

“Laila!” someone screamed from outside the door, banging harshly. “Let me in!”

Stirring the pot of spaghetti, I froze and glanced over my shoulder. That was Bethany.

How had she known that we were back already? Had Laila really texted her in the two hours we’d been here? Asked her to come over?

“I’ll be right back, Sage,” Laila said, handing me the strainer.

I tightened my grip on the wooden spoon until my knuckles turned white and glared at the boiling water. My vacation was officially over, and now, I had to return to acting like the maid, like the last week had meant nothing to me.

“Oh my God!” Laila cried, opening the door. “What happened to you?”

I bit back the urge to glance at Bethany to see what had happened. Before I could turn around to see what was going on—not that I cared about that bitch—Laila pulled her past me and toward the bathroom.

I continued stirring the pasta like it wasn’t my business and added some more salt.

“Sage!” Laila called from the bathroom. “Grab me the first aid kit!”

“No!” Bethany shouted. “I don’t want to see that bitch. This is her fault.”

Biting back my annoyance with her—because I hadn’t done shit—I hurried to the bathroom and pulled the vanity chair to the closet, standing on it to grab the first aid kit from the top shelf. When I hopped off, I placed it on the counter and unzipped it.

“What do you mean?” Laila asked Bethany.

Briefly, I glanced over at Bethany, who looked beaten to hell. All her nails had been ripped off and were bleeding profusely. Blood dripped from a huge gash in her forehead. Bruises covered her arms and legs. If she hadn’t been a bitch to me, I would’ve maybe felt bad for her.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Bethany snapped.

Brow furrowed, Laila glanced over at me. “What did you do?”

All I could feel was hurt. Why does she blindly believe Bethany? I had spent the entire day with Laila. I didn’t have time to ask Constantino to do anything like this for me. Not only was I not going to stoop down to Bethany’s level, but I couldn’t. I hated the thought of hurting anyone, especially this badly.

Death would’ve been an easier punishment than this torture.

“Sage?!” Laila exclaimed, eyes blazing with anger. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“She’s lying,” Bethany snapped. “The bitch is lying.”

A plethora of emotions crossed Laila’s face—anger, confusion, sadness, then betrayal. She shook her head and blinked back tears. “Sage, what did you do? What did you say to Constantino? Why did he do this?”

“I didn’t do anything,” I explained.

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