Page 11 of A Taste like Sin
“Thorne residence,” a gruff voice demands from the other end of the line. “How can I assist—”
“It’s Juliana,” I say over who must be a bodyguard. “Put me through.”
“Of course, Ms. Thorne.”
Not even a second later, a familiar voice drips into my ear. “Juliana? Sweet pea, please tell me what
is going on—”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I counter. “Starting with who exactly he is: Simon. You’ve known all this
time, haven’t you? Who he really is?”
“Darling…” The background noise shifts and mutes behind him. He must have secluded himself into
another room. “We need to discuss this in person. Please. I’ve been worried sick about you. Come
home and we can—”
“If we talk, it will be somewhere public,” I blurt. “The Lariat. This time, maybe you can leave out the
police?”
An audible grunt escapes him. “Darling, can you really blame me?”
“Tomorrow morning at nine,” I snap. “Be there and…and tell me everything. I mean it. Or…”
I can’t even say it.Or consider me your daughter no longer.
“I will,” he insists. “Just tell me where you are. That you’re safe. The police are—”
I hang up and crawl beneath the sheets before I can regret contacting him in the first place. It’s
pathetic how your entire identity can be wrapped up within one person. Their aura. Their persona.
If that’s stripped away, they become a stranger, and you…
You become a shadow.
Icreep from Damien Villa’s lair to the first floor of the building with him none the wiser—or so I
think.
A man’s lurking near the mouth of the building’s lobby. As the elevator doors part, he steps forward,
and my knees buckle. Tall. Golden skin. Cropped raven hair. He could be Damien…if it weren’t for
his whole, dark-brown eyes.
“Mateo Villa,” I croak, inching back as the elevator doors close behind me.
“Juliana Thorne,” he coldly replies. “How strange to find you here, of all places…” In lieu of his
brother’s trademark suit, he’s wearing a pair of jeans and a leather jacket. A mocking half-smile sets
him further apart from Damien, but a steely nature reinforces his gaze, leaving me uneasy. “Though I
shouldn’t be surprised,” he adds. “My brother did pay for the privilege to play with you in private.”
