Page 65 of Beautiful Sinners

Flipping positions, I rest my butt against the railing and contemplate my adoptive mother. She was my larger-than-life hero. The one person I trusted. Someone who I knew would always be there to lift me up when I was at my lowest. But now, Aleksander has me questioning everything and everyone.

“I love you, Dierdre.”

Her startled brown eyes fly up at my use of her real name.

“No matter what happens next or what anyone says, I will always love you. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother.”

A shaky hand flutters to her chest. The dull pearlescent light catches the glimmer of tears that pool in her eyes.

“I love you, too. So very much, Synthia.”

“I know.”

She gave me ten years filled with that love. Even through the horrendous agony of my injuries, surgeries, and recoveries, I woke up every day fighting to live, if only for her. It was her love that saved me when I felt like I couldn’t take another breath or endure another second of the unending pain that tormented me day after day.

Love is the purest of emotions. It can take you to the highest highs, but also drag you down to the lowest of lows. Love can make you blind to the truth. It can be manipulative and used as a weapon. Love can bring life, but it can also kill. History is littered with the atrocities done in the name of love.

“Why did Aleksander say that Gabriel would be interested in knowing you were alive?”

Her tears turn to a wide-eyed fear that she isn’t able to hide quickly enough.

Evan moves nearer, his body creating a barrier against the brisk wind. “Tell her.”

Alana’s wide eyes are contagious because mine gape incredulously at Evan. How does he know?

I don’t know whether to feel hurt or royally pissed. Every fucking person seems to be aware of something that I’m not, and the only person who openly said he would tell me the truth is Aleksander. The enemy. How goddamn ironic is that?

I turn my back on her and feign interest in the nighttime urban landscape. I’d retreat inside, but I’m not in the mood to be yelled at. In my current disposition, it would only lead to a physical altercation.

“Gabriel is the man my father sold me to. I was to be his wife. Once Aleksander tells him…”

She doesn’t have to finish. I know exactly what Gabriel Ferreira will do. He’ll hunt her down and kill her. Just like he did his first wife, Constantine’s mother, when she tried to leave him.

Gabriel is a cruel, violent man who gets off on the pain he inflicts on others. Look what he did to Constantine. The thought of being Gabriel’s wife terrified Dierdre enough that she asked my mother for help, faked her own death, and changed her name to escape him.

The bleakness of the situation,of everything, pulls at me like a lead anchor in a fathomless ocean, dragging me under until I’m drowning. But it’s in that moment I remember the power I wield—as a woman and as James Fitzpatrick’s daughter. The only way I can truly be free, the only way I can protect those I love, is to take back what’s rightfully mine.

It’s time for the phoenix to rise.

“Evan, can you get Alana to Cillian tonight?”

“What? Why?” Alana asks.

“Gabriel can’t get to you if you’re with Cillian in Ireland.”

Metal legs scrape against the concrete floor when she bounds out of the chair.

“Absolutely not! I’m not leaving you.”

Evan apparently takes my side because he says, “I’ll call him now to let him know and get the plane refueled and prepped. Should take about an hour. Is that soon enough?”

I’d rather it be right this second. “Thank you, Evan.”

“I amnotgoing!” Alana plants her fists at her hips, her obdurate stance conveying her displeasure.

I go over to her and take her face in my hands, needing her to see my resolve. I won’t budge on this.

“Yes, you are. And you’re not going to fight me on it.”

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