Page 43 of Heartless Sinner

He was dragged away bleeding and barely conscious with his bad leg twisted at an angle that made me sick. My mind keeps spinning worse and worse scenarios of what could be happening to Dad.

This situation is beyond Anton with his crude violence and rages. We’re at the mercy of Micah Delarosa. And there’s nothing I can do because I don’t know him.

His name keeps circling in my head like a vulture over a carcass. My mind and body are torn because I didn't just cross him—I let him touch me, taste me, mark me. Then I broke into his vault and stole from him.

It’s crazy how everything about New York felt off. This is the something strange I felt.

The job was easy because it was a setup.

Heset it up, but I fell into the trap instead of those assholes at the factory.

That led Micah straight to me and Dad.

The fact that we had a one-night stand was just an anomaly thrown in by the universe to piss with me.

If I had atleastgotten his name, I could have avoided that part and saved some ounce of my dignity.

And damn Johnny. Damn him to hell. I hope he gets his comeuppance. I truly do. This is all his fault. How could he leave us?

I get that he’s scared of Anton, but he just ran away and left us without a word.

The door's hinges screech like damned souls as it suddenly opens. I gaze ahead, desperate to know if my father is okay.

Light spills in, harsh and blinding, bathing Micah in an angelic glow, but he

fills the doorway like a demon stepping out of my darkest dreams.

My heart stops, then races double-time, making my breath catch in my lungs.

My brain struggles and terror slips around my thoughts like a fog, pushing me deeper into that state of helplessness.

With his gaze riveted to me, he walks in tall, proud, and handsome.

Handsome.

I really must have lost my mind if I can be thinking that at a time like this.

He’s probably killed Dad and is here now to kill me.

Micah moves closer, his shoes clicking against the concrete floor. He stops before me, standing close enough that I catch his scent. That scent of musk and power. Unlike the night we met, it makes my stomach turn.

Staring at him now, I see what I missed before—the predator beneath the polished exterior. The killer behind that seductive smile that had me shredding my clothes for him with just one word.

Summoning courage from somewhere—maybe the ether—I push my trepidation aside and think of Dad.

"Please," I choke out before he can speak, my voice raw, broken. "Please, tell me about my father. Is he…" I can't finish the sentence. Can't voice my worst fear.

"Your father is receiving medical treatment."

My eyes widen, but then relief makes me dizzy. Dad's alive. And receiving medical treatment? “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I needed him alive to talk.”

Of course he did.How foolish of me.

“So, Scarlett James.” My name on his lips sends an inappropriate shiver down my spine. Just like it did when he called me bellezza. “Pretty name. I guess now I know why you didn’t want to tell me who you were. No trace, right?”

He sounds different to the carefree person he was in New York. Now he sounds a little unhinged.

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