Page 18 of Sins of the Son

For the barest of moments, she stilled. Then her entire body trembled.

I held her tighter, rocking her back and forth as I hummed a nonsense nursery song I remembered from my childhood.

Her breathing was still alarmingly ragged and uneven.

Fuck.

I didn’t know what to do. I’d never felt so helpless in my life. Should I wrap her in a blanket and rush her to the villa? Maybe Amara would know how to help?

Just as I was lifting a blanket over her shoulders, she stilled.

Everything stopped.

The night became strangely quiet again, almost as if nothing had happened.

Even without looking at her face, I could feel that she was at least partially aware.

I leaned down and brushed the tangled curls away from her tearstained cheeks. “Carissima, talk to me.”

She stayed silent.

I cupped her jaw and tilted her head back, searching her face in the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains. “Baby, I need you to say something.” I kissed her forehead. “Please, Milana.”

The shiver which wracked her body was so intense, I could hear her teeth chatter.

I snagged the blanket and wrapped it more firmly around her shoulders before enveloping her in my arms, warming her with my body.

When she finally spoke, it was barely a whisper. “The dark. I don’t like the dark.”

My brow furrowed. The dark? Cazzo! The bedroom light. That was why it had been on.

Not wanting to leave her even for the few seconds it would take to turn on the overhead light, I reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, then returned to embracing her. “Shhh, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

I knew she was finally awake when she tried to pull away from me.

Her hands pushed against my chest.

I tightened my grasp.

She hunched her shoulders as she turned her head away from me. “Let go.”

“Never.”

Her head dropped and she sucked in a ragged breath. “Please.”

That single word struck like a knife to my chest. It held so much tortured pain and desperation for such a small, pitiful word. Against my better judgment, I released her.

She swiftly scrambled to the other side of the bed, wrapping the blanket around her like a protective shield. Averting her face, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

I got out of bed and threw on my jeans. I ran a palm over my eyes as I released the breath I had been holding. “I thought I told you to stop asking me that question? I’m here because this is where you are. Milana, what the hell is going on?”

She wrapped her hand around the bedpost, clutching it so hard her knuckles were white. “It’s none of your busin—”

I clenched my right hand into a fist as I closed my eyes. “I swear to God, don’t you dare fucking say this is none of my business.”

She whipped her head around to face me, eyes narrowed. It was a relief to see the fiery spark had returned to them, replacing her terrorized, sightless stare. “Just because we had sex doesn’t mean you are now in my life and have the right to interrogate me.”

Enough of this bullshit.

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