Page 30 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

Saint cut through the eggs benedict on his plate. “I will arrange one of Italy’s top designers to be escorted to the Empress. There’s no need for you to go to the mainland.”

“Marcello, dear,” Elena gently touched his arm, “I think it’s time she experiences the beauty and glamor of Milan. It is, after all, the world’s capital of fashion.”

I glanced from Elena to Saint, and I saw the way his jaw ticked and his nostrils flared. He didn’t want me going to the mainland. He didn’t want me anywhere off this yacht. But it was quite tempting, the idea of going to the mainland and to finally be able to wear clothing I chose myself.

“Saint,” I started with a soft tone, “it would be nice to go to Milan. To see more of Italy than just the ocean.”

“Fine,” he snapped, throwing down his knife and causing me to jolt in my seat. “But James and I will be going with you.”

“Marcello, a shopping spree will hardly be entertaining for you.”

He glared at Elena while clenching his jaw. “Either we all go, or no one goes.”

The air went from light and comforting to heavy and thick. It was the first time I saw Saint act with authority toward Elena. And the way her cheeks flushed, it was clear it didn’t happen often either.

“Fine.” Elena scooped a piece of cantaloupe on her spoon. “We can make a day out of it. Besides, Mila needs a gown for the charity ball on Friday evening. Maybe you can help her choose.”

Saint shot Elena a warning glare.

“What charity ball?” I looked up at him.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not planning on going.” His reply was short and clipped, and a clear indication that the topic wasn’t open for discussion, something Elena chose to ignore.

“Marcello, you need to go. It’s your charity ball. Surely, the host cannot be absent from such an event.”

I reached out and touched his arm. “Which charity?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does. Which charity?”

“It’s for children’s education,” Elena answered on his behalf. “The charity ball is to raise funds for the children whose parents cannot afford to pay for decent education.”

Surprised, I gently squeezed his arm. “Wow. Saint, that’s such a wonderful thing to do.”

“What?” he shot back. “You didn’t think I was capable of doing something nice, of being anything other than a cruel husband?”

“Saint, that’s not—”

He tossed his napkin on the table and stood from his seat. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements for us to go to Milan. But you are not going to the charity ball, and it is not open for discussion.”

I lightly shook my head. “Saint—”

“I said it’s not open for discussion. Is that understood?”

The deep tenor of his words hit hard against my chest, as if I were a child scolded for doing something wrong.

“Understood,” I muttered, staring down at the fruit bowl in front of me while my heart was slowly creeping up my throat.

“Good. I’ll let the captain know we’ll be using Bell to fly to Milan.”

He stomped off and left me and Elena behind in silence. It was only when the sound of his footsteps disappeared that I looked up. “Who or what is Bell?”

Elena seemed completely unfazed by Saint’s hostile behavior. “It’s Marcello’s private helicopter that can dock on the Empress.”

My eyes widened. “A helicopter? That docks on here…on the yacht?”

She let out a laugh. “Oh, Mila. You’ve only seen the front half of the Empress.”

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