Page 248 of Never Fall for an Angel

“So feisty. I can see why my brother was so obsessed with you. He always did think with his cock.” His gaze roams over my body in a sick, sadistic way.

I stare at him in confusion, tears welling in my eyes.

“Was?”

He chuckles under his breath, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, you didn’t know? Shame.”

Please . . . anything but that.

“It seems he couldn’t survive two more gunshot wounds to the chest.” He shakes his head. “If only I knew that the first time.”

“He’s . . . dead?”

I refuse to believe it. Not my Christian.

“You should really besoproud of him. The idiot thought he could save you.” My heart feels like it’s being ripped in two. This can’t be real.

Sebastian steps around the circle of light, his hands in his pockets as he examines me like an experiment. His cold gaze is demeaning as it rakes over me, from my sneakers up to the mats in my hair.

“So young to be a widow,” he asks, shaking his head. “It really is unfortunate that I had to be the one to do that to you.”

“What did youdo?” I lunge for him, a growl ripping from my throat, only to fall to the floor when the chains rip me back. “What did you do to him?”

Sebastian’s gaze is unfeeling as a sob wracks through me. He kneels in front of me, his face so much like that of the man I love that it’s haunting.

It’s not the same, though. They may be twins, but Sebastian doesn’t have the scar down his cheek like Christian. He doesn’t have the fire in his eyes or the rough growl of his voice. He doesn’t smell the same, and his eyes aren’t the right shade of blue, like the ocean glistening off the rocks of Shipwreck Island. He’ll never be half the man Christian is.

“You’re pathetic,” I grind. “You arenothingcompared to him.”

“You sound so much like my dear, sweet mother,” he sneers. “She used to hate me. Compare me to Christian at every chance she got. I was the smaller twin. The twin who preferred books over sports. Do you think she loved me?”

“I think it would be hard to love a sadistic psychopath.”

He smiles.

“Tell me,” he stops, kneeling in front of me. “Do you know where we are?”

My stomach turns at the deeply disturbed look in his eyes.

“No? Well, look around you. My mother took her last breaths in this house.” His gaze flicks down at the damaged floor. “Right where you’re sitting. You should feel honored I’m letting you go out the poetic way.” He brushes his fingers along my face, and I bend away from his touch. “Sadly, you won’t be the first, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

My mouth runs dry as everything falls into place.

I blink through the tears clinging to my lashes, a year’s worth of questions finally getting answers.

“You did this because you hate him . . . didn’t you?”

He stares at me for a long moment.

Then, a broad, shark-toothed grin spreads across his face, sending my heart plummeting.

“Very, very good, Mila.” He claps his hands, the sound echoing in the container. “Now, ask me the plan so I can tell you. It’s a good one.”

I look up at him through watery lashes, wishing that I could wrap the ropes binding my hands around his neck. I’ve never wanted to kill another human being until this very moment. “Fuck you.”

“Oh, we’ll get to that. I always did love the sound of your agony.” He shrugs. “Maybe you’ll find a purpose in life after all.”

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