Page 28 of Sin and Salvation

Rastus exhaled, literally shaking with rage, his fists curled at his side. Then his gaze flicked from me and Crow to the other massive shadows who had crept up alongside me: Aeron, his sharp fangs already lengthening and pressing into his pillowy lips, and Zane, with his golden eyes narrowed.

He seemed to think better of trying to force the situation. There was no way he’d get out of here without being torn limb from limb.

“You’re going to regret this, Venus,” Rastus said to me quietly, and finally turned away.

Brody fell in at his side, making sure my brother found his way out of the club and didn’t try to sneak back in.

I didn’t realize how cold I’d gone, or how terrified I was that Rastus might actually be able to drag me out of here, until Crow squeezed my shoulder again and pulled me towards him.

“Come on,” he said gruffly, leading me away from the club towards the back.

I thought he was taking me back to my room, but instead, he stopped outside the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse.

My mouth dried up so quickly it felt like I was holding several cotton balls in there, but I didn’t say a word as the doors slid open and Crow ushered me in.

Despite the rough veneer of the club below, the interior was dark and sleek, all streamlined chrome and black velvet walls.

Without thinking about it, I settled against Crow, who wrapped his arms around me.

Who would’ve thought I could find comfort in the arms of the demon Maxime had once called the spawn of the Devil himself?

But that’s exactly what it was. When Crow, Aeron, or Zane were around me, I felt completely untouchable. Even if these doors opened and Maxime himself was standing there waiting for me, I thought I might be able to face him without breaking down.

But of course there was no sign of the demon who haunted my thoughts when the doors opened.

There was only a view of a long, black marble corridor, shadows enveloping the few doors I saw.

Zane was the first out of the elevator, leading the way down the hall to an ebony door. Crow and I were last, and the MC’s President kept his arm around me the entire time.

My mouth dropped open when Zane unlocked the door, revealing an apartment as nice as—hell, make it nicer—than any I’d seen over on the ‘finer’ side of Concordia.

Black marble floors and charcoal walls were lit with sleek overhead fixtures. A kitchen that would’ve made Maxime’s private chef sob with envy was to my left, boasting a six-foot long refrigerator set in the wall itself.

Crow led me to the living room and set me on a black leather couch as Zane went into the kitchen, rummaging around in the cabinets.

The dry feeling never left my mouth as the prez sat across from me, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, steepling his fingers in front of him.

I couldn’t look away from that black gaze, drawing me in like a vortex from which there was no return.

“Time for some answers, Venus,” he said. He didn’t need to raise his voice to make his command clear.

Aeron dropped into an armchair and clapped his hands. A roaring fire sprung to life in a semi-hidden fireplace, startling me. I hadn’t noticed the smoked glass inset in the wall, but the warmth washed over me quickly.

“You’re Venus Amatoré, one-time associate of Maxime Giraud. By your admission to Zane, you worked for him, but retain no loyalty to him.”

I shook my head, keeping my eyes fixed on the golden horns glinting on his head. If I looked into his eyes while he questioned me, I might lose all my nerve and start crying.

“Exactly who, or what, are you to Maxime Giraud?” Crow raised an arched black brow. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Venus.”

I lowered my gaze, feeling the hot prickle behind my eyes intensify. But I held it, knowing things would go far worse if I tried to cower.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and I felt a bit of the prickle recede. “Now speak.”

My cover story now seemed so flimsy, I had no idea how I’d ever believed it would actually work. I was recognizable; my photo had been in tabloids, even splashed across the front page of theConcordia Heraldalongside Maxime’s.

When I opened my mouth, with no idea of what would come out, it was the truth that decided to emerge.

“My brother Rastus sold me to Maxime when I was seventeen years old.”

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