Page 62 of Beautiful Sinners

“Please don’t do anything we’ll both regret. I only came to talk,” Aleksander says in that oddly soft, cultured voice that is incongruent for a man his size.

His words are laughable because they’re pure bullshit. The Angel of Death has come for me, but I won’t go down without a fight.

“Just to talk.”

He shows me his hands. He’s not carrying a weapon. If he’s trying to get me to lower my guard, he fails miserably. Aleksander doesn’t need a weapon to wreak havoc. He’s just as deadly as any gun.

“You have my word,” he promises.

This time I do laugh. It’s hollow and very fake, and it dies as suddenly as it begins.

“You’re delusional if you expect me to put faith in your word after what you and your brother did.”

A frown furrows his brow, dipping low and ominous. There are a few fresh scratches on his face and the ridge of his eye is swollen. He apparently walked away from the explosion practically unscathed.

“Aleksei is dead.”

Apparently, I have a death wish because I confess, “I killed him.”

Nothing. No reaction. His cruelly handsome face is completely blank.

“I know. That’s not why I’m here.”

That’s it? No threats about all the horrible ways he’s going to make me suffer for what I did?

He pauses, takes a cautious step closer. “If I’d known you were…” As if he had just become aware of her existence, Aleksander’s astonishment shows when he notices Alana. “Well, this is quite unexpected.”

Warning bells go off when Alana visibly trembles, and her fingernails dig sharply into my arm, hard enough to break through the skin.

“I wonder what Gabriel will think when he finds out you’re alive.”

Gabriel Ferreira?

I intentionally position myself in front of Alana, ensuring that I’m the target should the other man decide to shoot.

Aleksander's companion, however, moves strategically around me, pressing the barrel of a Glock against Alana's chest and using the momentum to back her up into the urinal stall, effectively separating us and trapping her.

“You hurt her,” I hiss through gritted teeth, “and I’ll kill you.”

Aleksander gentles his tone. “I promise no harm will come to Ms. Amato. You can trust me, Aoife.”

He knows who I am, who Alana is. What the fuck is going on? And how did he find out where we were or get past the guys without them noticing?

“Says the asshole with the goon holding a gun to my mother.”

“She’s not really your mother, though, is she?” His head quirks in a curious manner. “Do you remember me?”

I remember a boy with a sweet smile and moonlit eyes who nervously asked me to dance. I also remember the fight he and Tristan got into. He wasn’t so sweet then.

“No,” I prevaricate. Knowing Aleksander’s hot button, I say, “I don’t know how you got in here, but Tristan will come looking for me soon. Hendrix and Constantine, too.”

“I’ve got eyes on them.”

His words hang in the air, and I take them exactly as the threat he intended.

There are too many people in the bar, including three men I love who I wouldn’t hesitate to die for. Innocent souls who would become casualties if Aleksander’s men opened fire. Playing along seems to be my only option right now.

“Alright. You want to talk. You have my attention.”

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