Page 20 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

I toyed with the seam of my oversized shirt. “I’m much better since I can breathe normally in these clothes. Thank you.”

“For what?” She slanted a brow.

“The tights and T.”

She regarded my clothes with a disapproving frown slowly appearing on her face. “Oh, dear Mila. I’m not sure who gave you those,” she pointed first at the tights then to the shirt with mild disgust, “but I can assure you it wasn’t me. In fact, if it was, someone needs to call my therapist because I clearly lost my mind.”

“You didn’t—”

“No. I definitely did not.”

“Then who—” But I figured it out before I finished the sentence. “Saint.”

Elena pursed her lips, placing a hand on her hip. “What have you done to my nephew?” Her amusement was evident in the smirk on her face.

I sighed. “The better question is what your nephew has done to me.”

The grin on her face remained as she sat on the couch under the cabin window, leisurely crossing her legs. “I get the feeling the dynamics between you two have changed. Am I right?”

“I don’t know how to answer that.” I pushed my hair back and roughed my fingers through the ends. “I have never felt this confused. Ever. First, he’s this total monster. Cruel. Brutal. Merciless. And I hated him.” I stared into open space. “But then—”

“He changed?”

I looked up at Elena. “No. I think I have.”

The revelation was starting to become clear, yet I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Like my mind wasn’t wired to understand something as complex as what I was feeling.

“He murdered my friend in front of me. He kidnapped me, forced me to marry him.” My gaze dropped to the floor, and I was no longer talking to Elena but rather trying to figure it out for myself. “At first…his touch burned. It hurt. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. But when Saint came for me, when he held my brother at gunpoint after slitting some bodyguard’s throat,” I closed my eyes at the memory then opened them to look at Elena, “I wanted to go with him. Not because I was scared or afraid of him, but because…I wanted to be with him.”

Elena’s expression didn’t change, yet I saw a glimmer in her eyes as if she had known this all along.

I stood and started pacing. “What kind of person does that make me? Does that make me crazy, the fact that I want to be with a man like Saint? A man who has shown no redeeming qualities, yet has proven repeatedly what an asshole he really is?”

Elena tittered, a delicate sound of sophistication. “I love my nephew, but yes, he is an asshole at the best of times.”

I paused and shot her a sideways glance. “And why does it feel so damn easy to talk to you as if I’ve known you all my life?”

Her smile was warm as she patted the seat next to her on the couch. “Sit, Mila.”

I plopped down beside her, leaned my head back, and covered my eyes with my arm. “I’m so screwed.”

“Oh, stop. Don’t be so melodramatic. You just need to learn how to play your cards right, and when to play them.”

I turned my face in her direction and narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

Her coy smile had me intrigued. “Men like Saint, they thrive on power. Control. All this,” she waved her hand in the air, “it’s about authority, influence. The more a man dominates, the more they witness their own supremacy—”

“The bigger their ego gets?”

“The more they keep their guard up. The heavier the pressure becomes for them to remain at the top.” She shifted. “Now, imagine you’re at the top of a raging war about power and money, blood and revenge. You constantly have to cross lines, push the boundaries of society’s morals, never allowing yourself a moment where your most basic human emotions can come to the surface.”

I sat up, listening intently to her every word.

She brushed a blonde streak of hair from her cheek. “The burden becomes a weight you just can’t carry alone, and you start to feel vulnerable because no matter how hard you try to fight it, at some point the humanity that pulses through your veins will break you.” Elena reached out and placed her hand on mine. “Now, imagine having someone you can share that burden with. Someone who won’t judge you when you shed that hardened skin you’re forced to wear when looking the world in the eye. Someone who brings a balance to your life and accepts the person you are in the privacy and confines of the bedroom, but who also supports you when you need to face the war outside. Someone who stands at your side with poise and pride, and who completes your worldly image by reflecting the power you work so damn hard to own.” Elena grinned. “A man like Saint needs a woman who basks in his power, Mila. A woman who shines with the confidence as if she had been touched by God himself and stands at his side beaming with entitlement because he worked fucking hard for you to be able to.”

She leaned back in the seat, not taking her eyes off me. “Be that person for Saint, and I can promise you will have more power over him than you can imagine, and he won’t even realize it.”

I pushed my hair back. “So, what you’re saying is I should become—”

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