Page 249 of Never Fall for an Angel

He shakes his head, continuing his earlier pacing.

“It’s really quite simple; I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out yet.”

“What’s it matter?” I shrug. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”

He rolls his eyes, his shoulder slumping.

“Oh, come on,” he growls. “Where’s that fight? You wouldn’t want Christian to think you’ve given up, have you?”

If he’s safe, I don’t care what he thinks of me.

Ironic, huh?

“You made him think you were dead. For years, he’s thought it was his fault, but no, it was you, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, semantics.” He waves a hand. “My dear big brother. The golden child. You know, everyone thought he would do big things.”

He comes to a stop in front of me, crouching down.

“Sadly, this time, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep you alive.” His eyes roam over my body, disgust entering his gaze. “You smell like him.”

“He’s going to kill you,” I breathe. “You won’t live long enough to revel in your revenge.”

He smiles, a big toothy grin.

“You’re assuming he survived.”

My chest aches, but I refuse to believe that Christian is dead.

“You’re assuming he didn’t.”

A silence falls over the air between us, and his eye twitches. I can see I’ve gotten under his skin, so I push a little further.

“Christian is stronger, isn’t he? He’s survived your bullet before. He’ll do it again. That’s why he’s the golden child.” I scoff. “You could never live up to him. That’s why your mother didn’t love you as much as she loved him. And Sebastian . . . well, you know what they say about twins? One’s always a dud.”

His dark, evil laugh sends chills down my spine when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

“Seems your time’s run out, dear Mila.” Stalking away from me, he grabs a fiery red gas can from somewhere behind me. With a maniacal grin, he holds it up for me to see.

Oh, this is bad.

“You know, I’ve got to say, I’m glad he chose you. You’re turning out to be a great sister-in-law.”

“Can’t say the same,” I grit through my teeth when he rips the top off the jug.

Oh, this isreally bad.

“Shame. I’ve always preferred blondes.”

The smell of gas burns the inside of my nose.

Sebastian splashes it around the room and the old, broken structure seems to sway around me.

“Christian . . .” I cough from the smell of the fumes when he raises a lit match into the air with a feral smile.

“Bye bye, Mila. Give my mother my blessing.”

CHRISTIAN

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