Page 22 of The Sins of Saint (The Sins of Saint 3)

Damn woman made me fucking dizzy trying to keep up with the ever ongoing saga of mindfuckery between us. It was a constant push and pull—but fuck me—whenever we crashed together, it was a collision that consumed us until we could hardly take a breath.

The floor creaked, and I glanced to the side. Mila stood by the spiral staircase that led up to the deck. She looked fucking beautiful wearing a defined waist mini-dress, the flawless skin of her shoulders accentuated by the simple spaghetti straps. But within the color of her dress, her strong defiance silently mocked me.

Green.

The exact opposite of red on the color spectrum. Albeit a softer shade of green—but the message came through loud and clear.

I stood and approached her. “Mila—”

But without a word, she clambered up the stairs barefoot. I watched as her dark, untamed curls bounced around her shoulders as she made her way up to the deck. The pang of regret that passed through my chest was unexpected. It was something I had never felt before, and I hated it. It was a miserable fucking feeling that gnawed at my bones, and I wanted it gone.

“Mila.” My voice boomed as I rushed up the stairs behind her. “Mila, you should know I don’t take kindly to being ignored.”

My shoes hit the deck, and Mila stood at the edge of the roof, her back turned toward me, and her hand hovering over the delicate azalea flowers that created a snowy landscape of white. “It’s beautiful.”

“It sure is,” I replied, but I wasn’t referring to our surroundings. The lush botanical garden with its picturesque plants and fragrant flowers was our own private spring season all year round. Dark wooden panels formed a clear pathway all around the deck, loveseats placed at every corner. But no sight and no scenery could ever compare to Milana’s unparalleled beauty.

Without turning, she glanced halfway over her shoulder. “Do you remember everything you said to me last night?”

I stepped closer. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“You had a lot to drink.”

“Not nearly enough to make me forget how much I hurt you.”

She picked one of the azaleas and turned without looking at me, her gaze downcast at the delicate flower in her hand. “If it was your intention to hurt me, you did a pretty good job.”

“Mila—”

“I don’t trust you, Saint.” Finally, she looked up at me, her eyes reflecting a sadness I had never witnessed from her before. “Although, for a short while I did. I trusted you, believed you when you said you loved me.”

“I do love you.”

“I don’t believe you.” She pressed her lips into a thin line as if she tried to bite back tears. “Last night, you erased every single word of affection you have ever said to me within ten seconds. Now it feels like nothing between us was ever true. As if it never happened.” She could no longer keep the tears from falling, and as I watched her pain slip down her cheek, I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and whisper ‘I love you’ over and over and over for the rest of my goddamn life. I wanted to imprint those three words into her soul, repeat it until it flowed through her veins and became one with her blood.

I took a step toward her, but she retreated as if closing the distance between us caused her physical pain.

“So, which is it, Saint?” Her bottom lip trembled. “Do you want me to stay? Want me to leave? Want me to raise our child on my own?”

“Of course not.”

“Because I will. I swear to God I will. If our child and I are nothing but burdens to you, I’d gladly walk out of your life, and you never have to see us again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mila.”

“Ridiculous?” She raised a brow. “What’s ridiculous is that I allowed myself to think you could actually love me.”

“I do.”

“Bullshit. You’re too consumed with hate for your father to be able to love anyone else. Your entire goddamn existence is based on ruining your father. Can’t you see how fucked up that is? We’re having a baby, bringing a life into this world, and now I find out it’s just another brick in you path to make sure your dad suffers for whatever it was he did to you.”

I clenched my jaw. “Jesus, Mila. That’s not…this baby was not part of the plan.”

“Then tell me it never crossed your mind once after you found out about the added clause in my dad’s will. Tell me that getting me pregnant so you could get your hands on those shares was never something you considered.”

I hissed and sucked air through my teeth. “Do not force me into a motherfucking corner.”

She scoffed. “If you consider the truth a goddamn corner—”

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