Page 193 of Vicious Saint
“Let’s just get out of here, okay? We can go shopping and you can tell me how to fix this.”
Theory’s chest heaves, making it clear my suggestion struck a vital nerve. “You know…for someone so repulsed by my b-brother, you’re starting to sound a lot l-like him.”
The first spark of anger hits me. “I’mnothinglike Saint.”
A cold blooded smile curls at her lips. “Keep fucking him until you actually b-believe that.”
It takes every ounce of my self-restraint not to strangle her.
I’m wrong, I admit it.
But I won’t let her mistake my remorse for weakness.
Or talk down to me the way she is right now.
“Watch your fucking mouth, Theory,” I mutter through tight lips. “I’ve rearranged faces for a lot less.”
She snorts. “You’ve got a lot of nerve threatening me when I k-know what I know.”
My hands ball into fists at my sides as Stanley appears.
“Simmer down, girls. Whatever it is, I’m sure you can work it out in a civilized fashion.”
“Leave, Stanley. N-now,” Theory demands, eyes glued to me.
Stanley obliges with a nod but doesn’t go far.
“Go ahead. Tell our parents about me and Saint. I don’t give a fuck. But something tells me your daddy will.” Crowding her space, I glare at Theory with an even colder grin. “In fact, hearing how the son who just got home from his special retreat fucked his stepsister is exactly what will keep your dad from sending him back.”
Theory blinks, not expecting me to have put two coincidences together.
“It’s perfect timing, actually. Since your brother failed to tank theirentirehoneymoon stage.”
“S-shut up.”
“Imagine all the attention you’ll have if my mother decides to divorce him. Or maybe none at all if you’re sent packing back to fucking Switzerland.”
Theory growls, lunging for me, but I step out of the way.
And the only thing stopping me from raining down hell is knowing who deserves it even more.
I would’ve spent whatever time necessary to make amends with this girl, but she didn’t strike when the iron was hot.
She struck when it melted.
“Stay the f-fuck away from me,” Theory spits.
“With fucking pleasure.”
After several tense moments of us staring each other down, she spins on her heels and takes off, Stanley right behind her.
Carlo returns from taking a phone call, on high alert when he takes in my current state.
“Signorina—” he says, but I stop him.
“Promise me you’ll stay here.”
“But you’re very angry.”
