Page 62 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

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Mila

“What did you do to her?”

“I saw her come in here. Where is she?”

Voices. Far. Distant.

“Where is she?”

“Get your hands off me.”

“Stop.”

“Tell me where she is.”

“Elena?” I stirred with a throbbing ache that spread down the side of my face and into my skull. My mouth was dry and throat scratchy as if I had swallowed sand. I licked my lips and tasted blood before I tried to push myself up. My eyes fluttered open against the stinging bright light, and for a moment I wasn’t sure where I was.

A bathroom.

Hotel.

Gala.

Anete.

“Raphael,” I whispered.

A loud thud sliced through my eardrums.

“Get the fuck in there, bitch.”

“Mila?” A gentle hand touched the side of my face. “Oh, my God, Mila.”

“Elena?” I could hardly hear my own voice against the pulsing pain in my head.

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?” I blinked a few times against the blinding light that glared off white tiles. “Where are we?”

“Jesus, Mila. Your face. What did he do to you?”

Reality crashed down on me like a thousand concrete blocks. “Raphael,” I whispered as my memory slithered back. “My mother.”

“Oh, it was just too easy.”

I glanced over Elena’s shoulder at my brother leaning against the doorframe, scratching his temple with the muzzle of his gun.

“Raphael,” I started, out of breath, “Elena. Let her go.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault the bitch followed us up here. She left me no choice but to toss her ass in here with you.”

Elena shot up to her feet. “You bastard. You better run before Marcello finds you.”

Raphael snorted and wiped his nose. “You think your little nephew scares me?”

“Oh, my God, you’re high, aren’t you?”

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