Page 5 of Welcome to the Sins of Blackstone
I seeher.
My world tilts.
My Angel.
She’s standing near the altar, her long, dark hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. A white dress hugs her body, modest but stilldistractingin all the wrong ways.
This is the last place I should be thinking naughty things I want to do with her.
She’s lighting candles, eyes focused, lips slightly parted as if she’s deep in thought.
For a second, I forget to breathe.
What the fuck is she doing here?
"Massimo." I snap out of it just as my father clasps my shoulder, guiding me forward. "Sit."
I sink onto the pew, but my eyes keep drifting back toher.The priest walks over to her, and they smile at each other. He steps onto the pulpit, and then it hits me like a bullet to the chest. She’s the priest’s niece.
I let out a slow, dark chuckle, shaking my head.Of course.
Ofcourse,the girl I want is the one girl I can’t have.
Chapter 3
Maria
Ifeel his eyes on me before I even see him. A slow heat crawls up my spine, an unshakable awareness that I’m being watched. I turn my head slightly, and there he is.
Massimo Messina.
Seated near the front, looking like sin in a perfectly tailored suit. His jaw is sharp, his dark hair pushed back just enough to seem effortless. He’s not even trying, but he commands attention without saying a word, just like his dad next to him.
I swallow hard, forcing my hands to stay steady as I finish lighting the candles.
This isnothappening.
Not here. Not in my uncle’s church.
Uncle Dominic steps forward to begin his homily his voice filling the space. "We must guard our souls against temptation, for sin comes in many forms. It is easy to be led astray by those who walk the wrong path…"
I know he’s talking about them.
About the Messinas.
I glance up, and Massimo is still watching me.
A slow, knowing sneer curves his lips.
My breath catches. I turn away, gripping my hands together in my lap, praying to God that he doesn’t see what’s happening inside me. Because it is everything that shouldn’t be there.
Throughout Mass, with every fiber in my body I keep my head down, so I don’t glance towards him again, and try to push every thought to the back of my head.
The moment Mass ends,I bolt toward the back of the church, hoping to slip away before?—
"Maria," my uncle calls, and I freeze. Slowly, I turn to face him.
He stands near the altar, speaking with a group of men dressed in dark suits. Powerful men. Dangerous men. Men maybe my father, a man of the Lord, shouldn’t be talking to, but is.
