Page 178 of Sinful Pleasure

She wasn’t stupid, and neither was I.

If anything, her presence here—on my territory, with no backup—spoke volumes about the loyalty she had for her family.

Risking her life to save her brother?

That was a testament to something stronger than fear.

Her hand stayed near her gun, fingers twitching with anticipation.

“I can do it myself,” I said, my tone sharp. “I don’t need my father’s dogs to do it for me.”

Lydia laughed at that, a short, cruel sound.

Her eyes gleamed with mockery as they fixed on me, reading every move, every breath.

“You’d be dead before you even tried.” her voice dripped venom. She wasn’t wrong.

“You’re starting to look more and more like your father, I see,” she muttered, her gaze trailing over me with open disgust.

“If I looked anything like my father, you’d already be dead,” I shot back.

Once, she’d been the closest person in my life. My confidant, my ally.

Now?

We were nothing but strangers armed with shared history and too many grudges.

She bit her tongue, clearly holding back words she didn’t want to say. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t something kind.

“I’m only here because I read my brother’s name on the letter addressed to me.”

I nodded. She was here for the same reason I was—family. I gripped the folder in my hands, the edges digging into my palms.

I could already feel the weight of the choice I was making. A mistake. A big one.

I threw the folder at her feet, a silent admission that

I wasn’t a true Romano. My blood wasn’t ice. My heart was still beating for someone else.

Lydia’s eyes narrowed as she followed the folder, a flicker of skepticism crossing her face. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze now back on me, waiting for me to explain.

I swallowed the bitter taste of pride, forcing my words through a throat constricted by guilt.

“This is the plan of the whole mansion. Every entrance, every hallway, every door and room. Everything down to the last detail.”

Lydia didn’t speak. She just stared at the folder as if expecting it to bite her. Her lips tightened, and I could see the question in her eyes.

Why? Why would I give her this?

Because Maddox’s survival was more important than my loyalty to a name I no longer wanted to carry.

“I’ll make sure the guards are gone. No one will be at the mansion’s entrance tonight. The cameras will be turned off. I’m giving you a chance, Lydia. A fair one.” I felt my chest tighten. “What happens after that—whether he lives or dies—it’s on you.”

She was still staring at the folder, as if she couldn’t believe what she wasseeing—like I was playing some kind of trick.

But it wasn’t a trick. It was all or nothing now.

After what felt like an eternity, Lydia finally spoke, her voice low and cold, still fixated on the folder in front of her.

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