Page 108 of Sins and Virtue

She murmured like a mouse. “Marcello Castillo.”

“Who?”

She said tightly between her lips. “Marcello Castillo.”

“Blair, speak up. I can’t hear you.

“Fine! Alright! He’s Marcello Castillo.”

My brows rose prominently. “Marcello Castillo?” I repeated intensely. The Colombia killer was more of a seducer than a prosecutor. Out of all men, that fucker was the man she chose to have a child with? Why? Why that fucker?

She pursed her lips, and an already annoyed look flashed across her face. “I told you, I have bad taste in men.”

“Bad taste is saying you have a thing for broke or bald men. It’s another to have a rendezvous with a notorious criminal.” Not to mention little old me, but that was beside the point.

“In my defense, I didn’t know until I was pregnant, so there’s that. Besides, he’s not as bad as you think. Yes, he’s a power-hungry maniac that would do anything to get what he wants, but his family is his weakness. I wouldn’t have had my baby if I knew the father was a piece of shit.”

Am I supposed to believe that?

A tick of disgust gnawed at my jaw as she exclaimed, “Hey, don’t judge me! I was nineteen, wild and free, with no commitment. I did what I wanted with who I wanted, and if you don’t like that, well, suck it because nothing in the world will change that. Marcello will always be the father of my child, and he will remain a part of both our lives.”

Instinctively despised the idea of having that man involved or anyone near Blair, yet if there was something I detested more, it was not being with her. So if I had to put up with the piece of shit, then for Blair and Ollie’s sake, I would.

“Although I don’t like it, for you I’ll do whatever.” I grunted, the words forcing themselves through my teeth.

She sassed, moving her shoulders. “As you should.”

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, kotyonok. However, clarify something for me? If you killed that man who was going to hurt your son, why are you here? It doesn’t make sense. A child should always be with their mother.”

“I agree, but the man I killed was an important, influential business man in Colombia. Marcello was doing business with him, and I fucked it all up. So, that man’s henchman started coming after me and I thought it would be better for my son if I disappeared. He doesn’t need his parents dead. He knows I love him even if I’m not there. Knowing he’s okay makes my existence bearable.”

“It’s killing you.” I raised my hand, rested my fingers underneath her chin, and pulled her to face me.

She flashed her eyes away, glossy tears woven in them. Her voice breaking, “But what else can I do? If I go, I risk his life, and I wouldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him. I’d die. I’ll kill myself. I swear it.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“No, you’re punishing yourself, Blair.” I reveled with grit. “You have to forgive yourself. You did what you did because you thought you were protecting your son. Anyone would do the same.”

“Perhaps, but it doesn’t change the fact I killed someone. I killed a man, even if he was bad, but I took someone’s father and husband away. That’s not right.”

“Right and wrong are subjective. However, your son is safe, and it’s because of you— a headstrong, stubborn, but brave woman who was capable of doing what she needed to for the sake of her loved ones. I can’t imagine a better mother.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she snuffled. The words nibbled at her heart and further than that, at what she knew to be true.

I raised my hand, stroking the curve of her cheek, gently saying, “Remember one thing, kotyonok, you’re worth more than your sins and far greater than your past. And to be the object of my affection makes you as precious and virtuous as the angels themselves.”

Chapter 16

Konstantin

“Mr. Volkov, here are your tickets.” Salvatore instructed sternly, handing me an envelope that he retrieved from the inside of his breast pocket. “Your train leaves this Friday.” He sat across from me, his eyes slowly moving across the room, calculating the movements of those surrounding us. Adjusting the collar of his pristine, Italian-tailored brown suit.

Which made no damn sense when he picked an outside cafe to meet up at. It was the peak of noon, when the rise of the sun was at its most powerful, the heat increasing by the hour as the laughter of children playing football in the street filled up the air and the influx of bypassers was the highest. On top of that, we sat out in the fresco seating, drinking a cup of cappuccino and espresso.

Opening it, I noticed the two tickets tucked inside. One of my brows instantly rose up, knowing they had been watching me and Blair. But why?