Page 116 of Beautiful Sinners

Considering me, Aleksander props his elbow on the arm of the chair and touches his thumb to each finger, pinky to index and back again.

“Tristan hasn’t told you anything, has he?”

My heart painfully slams against my chest. No matter how much they’ve hurt me, I can’t just shut off my feelings or make myself stop loving them by flipping an invisible off switch.

“If there’s something you want to say, spit it out.”

He leans forward, and by the seriousness on his face, I know I’m not going to like what’s about to come out of his mouth.

“Tristan came by looking for you last night. He also wanted to know where our father was.”

Our father?

Whatever I was going to say abruptly dies on the tip of my tongue. And then I get angry. Fuck him. My tolerance for manipulative bullshit is at capacity.

Unable to listen to one more person lie to me, I’m off the couch and walking toward the elevator.

“Syn, don’t leave.”

“I won’t let you use me for your stupid vendetta against Tristan.”

“Don’t go,” he implores, sounding almost panicked.

Incensed, I stab at the down button.

Aleksander bounds out of the chair and makes the mistake of grabbing me. Twisting out of his hold, I spin around to his back and kick out his knee. The hard wood judders under my feet when he hits the floor.

“You don’t ever fucking touch me without my permission.”

He twists his body around and looks up at me. I’m taken aback by the visceral sadness that clouds his storm-gray eyes. Aleksander is twice my size, but right now, he looks so much like the shy boy I remember from the gala ten years ago.

Bending his legs to his chest, he cups the back of neck with both hands and drops his face to his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just… please, don’t leave.”

I glare down at him. “Give me one good reason I should stay.”

I said something similar to Tristan not too long ago.

His deep, gruff voice is muffled and barely coherent when he replies, “Because I have no one else.”

Damn him for saying that. I know that pit of loneliness all too well. I’ve been submerged in it for the last ten years. The guys mentioned that Nikolai died a few years ago. I don’t know what happened to his mother, Nina. And Aleksei…fuck.

I hadn’t felt any remorse for what I did to Aleksei until this very moment. I took Aleksander’s brother from him.But Aleksei isn’t his only brother.

Before I can convince myself that this is a really bad idea, I lower to the floor and sit cross-legged, facing him.

“You said ‘our father.’”

Uncomfortable silence descends and smothers the air around us.

Just when I’m about to sayscrew thisand plow over him to get to the elevator and leave, he says, “I found out the night of the gala when I asked you to dance.” He chuckles quietly, but it’s hollow and devoid of any humor. “Helena Amato has a big fucking mouth when she’s drunk and high.”

Warily, I scoot a little closer. “Tell me.”

This is the last chance I’m giving him to be honest and real. A chance he doesn’t deserve, but one my guilty conscience wants to offer him.

“Tristan was with me when Helena spilled the secret.”

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