Page 28 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

“Because of your father, yes. Not because of who you are.”

“Then why do I like it?” I challenged. “Why do I like killing? Why does spilling blood and extracting revenge make me feel invincible with a rush no drug can ever give me?”

Elena stepped closer, clutching her nightgown at her chest. “Because it overpowers your pain. It makes you feel something other than hate and grief…just like she does.” She looked down at Mila. “She makes you feel something that smothers the pain…doesn’t she?”

I clenched my jaw and looked away at the glimmer of sunrays that started to appear at the end of the ocean.

“Admit it, Marcello,” Elena urged, keeping her voice low to not disturb Mila. “You’re feeling something for this girl, something that’s far more terrifying than what’s been fueling your need for vengeance against your father.”

“This wasn’t the plan.” Anger surged as it always did when the topic of my father came up in conversation. “She wasn’t supposed to be anything but a pawn.”

“Yet she is. Look at her. She’s sleeping in your arms, Marcello. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so peaceful. And I have definitely never seen you so torn, so conflicted. That means there’s something. There’s something here, between the two of you.”

“What are you trying to say, Aunt Elena?” I snapped and glanced down to make sure I hadn’t disturbed Mila, who stirred lightly, nestling deeper into my arm.

Elena turned toward the stairs and looked my way. “I’m saying that the day will come when you will need to make a decision. Continue to pursue this war against your father…or her. You can’t have both. Not with a girl like her.”

The warning dropped over me like a veil, a dark, thunderous cloud that threatened to open the gates of hell. I felt it, the sense of foreboding that followed Elena’s words as she walked away. Truth was, Elena didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. I knew Mila was different from the day I planted lead in Brad’s skull. If she was any other woman, she would have broken down. She would have done anything and everything I told her to do out of fear. But not Mila. She defied me at every opportunity with a fire that burned in her dark eyes. It was that fire that intrigued me, made me do things differently than I had planned. And look now. Here we were, and she was sleeping like a goddamn angel in my arms at dawn as if we were lovers living in a world of our own. But we weren’t. This was my world. This was my hell, and I had pulled her all the way down with me.

I leaned my head back and stared out over the ocean in front of us. Last night played on repeat in my head. Flashes. Images. How the moonlight danced across her skin. How she surrendered her all, putting her trust in me by leaning over the ledge with nothing but my arm around her waist keeping her from falling. It was daunting yet fucking beautiful. While buried balls deep inside her, it wasn’t my quest for pleasure that consumed me. It wasn’t the lust that burned in my veins that fueled me. It was her. Milana Katarina Torres. The woman who showed me her at her weakest, at her most vulnerable. Me. The monster who snatched her from her world. The devil who dragged her through hell without thinking twice of how the flames burned her.

A selfish bastard.

That was who I was. All the power and money in the world couldn’t have made me a better man. All it took was her—an orphan—to make me want to be better. But how? How did I go from a man who had been obsessed with revenge for so long to a man whose sole purpose was to protect that which was most precious to him?

Mila stirred, nuzzling her cheek against my chest. I took her hand and brought my lips down to kiss it like a tender lover. A man who silently vowed to do whatever it took to keep his wife safe.

I gently shifted beneath her as I touched her cheek. “Mila. It’s time to wake up.”

The moans that rolled from her lips made me want to kiss her. I wanted to claim her mouth and never stop.

“Mila.” I placed my hand under her chin, touching her bottom lip with the pad of my thumb. “Wake up,segreto.”

She lifted her head and opened her eyes. I saw the moment she realized where she was, remembering what had happened. Her cheeks flushed the most radiant shade of pink, her eyes dark and beautiful.

“We slept here?” She sounded surprised.

I shrugged. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but—” She pulled a hand through her hair. “I just…I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think I’d do it.” It wasn’t a question.

Her tongue darted out and licked her lips. “Well, no.”

I smirked. I wasn’t the least surprised by her confusion. I’d been an asshole to her for so long, she didn’t expect anything better.

I pushed myself up and held out a hand to her, helping her to her feet, then cupped her chin as I lifted her face to mine. “Last night, you showed me that you trusted me with your life. I need to know if you still feel the same, or if it was just—”

“I do.”

There was no hesitation in her answer, and I saw the conviction in her eyes as she stared up at me.

“I do still trust you, Saint.”

It was one of those moments I had no control over. One of those moments that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop from happening. A moment I sealed with a kiss by placing my lips tenderly against hers. It wasn’t fueled by passion or lust. The kiss was a mere act of affection because of the relief I felt to hear that last night wasn’t just a fucking dream. It was real.

She was real.

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