Page 33 of The Rise of Saint (The Sins of Saint 1)

“What?”

“Marriage is much like birth, one of the purest yet simplest forms of new beginnings.”

I pulled a hand through my hair. “Again, not a shock since we both know marrying Mila is in my future. Now, I had enough of this bullshit. I’m going to bed.”

“Your current journey will come to an end soon,” she called after me. “Everything will come full circle, and a new beginning isn’t just possible, it’s inevitable.”

I held my arms up. “Sounds good to me.”

“What did you think about, Marcello? When you cut the cards, whose face did you see?”

I huffed and pressed my lips in a thin line. “My father,” I lied.

Elena smiled as if she knew something I had yet to discover and picked up the three cards one by one. “You might be able to lie to others around you, Marcello. But you cannot lie to me.”

“Good night, Elena.”

“Remember, the five of cups might be your past, but that does not mean your grief won’t determine your future.”

I stomped out the door and mumbled, “It already has.”

13

Mila

I saton the floor of the shower, water still cascading over me while I clutched my knees to my chest. There was no way of knowing how long it had been since Saint left, and the relief that flooded me when I watched him walk out was indescribable, so my body just surrendered to it, and I could no longer stand.

Water ran down the drain, and I watched it swirl around me until it disappeared. If only I could go with it, become water and escape whatever reality this was. I couldn’t call it a nightmare. A nightmare was something you could wake up from. This wasn’t something I could wake up from—a place where horrible things happened, but you knew it would eventually come to an end.

No.

This was reality. My reality. A continuation of the story of my life. A day in the life of Mila the orphan.The life of a girl with no home who grew up to be a woman with no identity…until a saint came and took her. Only he was no fucking saint, but a beast who snatched her from the only world she’d ever known and forced her into his.

I lifted my face to let the water rain down over me. Why would I care whether I was in his world or not? It wasn’t like I had a life back in New York, apart from living with a drug addict and working as a runner at two different restaurants, pulling sixteen hour shifts as often as I could.

I had nothing. God, not even the surname I had belonged to me.

Black. Mila Black.

I never questioned it, wondered why they chose Black. But now that I knew my real name, Milana, it couldn’t have been a coincidence that I ended up with the name Mila. But other than that, I was no one. So, whether I was here with him or back in New York on my own, I’d still be lost. Still be living a life I didn’t want.

How did the saying go?Make hay while the sun shines.

I might as well pick myself up, dry my tears, and make lemonade with the fuck-ton of lemons life had thrown my way.

The warm water had started to turn my skin a light red, and I decided to get up so I could face whatever life had in store for me from here on out.

There was nothing but skirts, and dresses, and coats in the closet. No pants. No jeans or t-shirts. Just one designer label after the other.

A knock on the door made me jolt, and I grabbed the towel I had wrapped around me.

Elena peeked inside, the warm smile on her face doing nothing to appease me. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

I tightened my grip on the towel. “I want to say I’m fine, but that would make it seem like I’m in denial, don’t you think?”

She closed the door as she stepped in, long, shapely legs accentuated by the black stiletto heels she wore. This woman was sophistication and wealth personified. She all but oozed elegance as if it had been engraved into her since she was born.

“I brought you something to eat.” She placed a silver dome on the wall cabinet and wiped her hands together as she glanced around the room. “Are you settled in?”

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