Page 37 of Stained In Sin (The Twisted Trilogy #1)

Evely n

His words repeat in my head, like a haunting song. He would do anything for me. He’s mine. He’s yours.

I didn’t know what I was doing last night. I was wasted. I spent the entire day with Astra because Dante and Lucien had something to attend to. Which now, I assume, means they had to kill someone.

Dante is so discreet when it comes to his work, but I am slowly understanding why. He wants to keep me safe. He doesn’t want me to worry about him, but I do. I’ve seen firsthand how he kills, and I know he has made enemies as a result.

I do feel better knowing that when he randomly disappears, he is probably working, not seeing other women. I’ve never had a real relationship before, so I’m new to this whole jealousy thing.

It has been eating me alive for days— until last night.

Something changed. He looked at me as he held the knife to his chest. He trusts me. He’s mine. And I am his.

Warmth travels to my core.

I pull out my phone to text my parents. Things have still been a bit weird, and I want to change that. It makes me physically sick when I think about the disgusted looks they had on their faces the last time I saw th em.

Hey Mom this one has nothing. The front is bare, as if choice s were made.

I open the file, and tears spring to my eyes immediately as my throat constricts. I quickly slam the envelope shut, unable to look through the file. Why does he have this?

I stumble out of the office, carrying the file, and I slam it down on the island. I sit on the bar stool, trying to catch my breath before I look through the file. My stomach turns as I open the file once more.

I quickly flip the picture of her over, unable to look at her innocent face.

There is a list. Details about her. Nothing more.

It makes me sick. Was he trying to figure out who killed her, or did he do it?

Did Dante kill my best friend’s sister? If he did— I genuinely don’t know the man I love.

How could I love a man who killed an innocent woman? You can’t. He killed her.

I pull out my phone with shaky hands and call Astra.

No answer.

I call again, and again.

Nothing.

My chin trembles as I pace the floor. I need to get out. I have to leave this fucking house. He killed her. He acted like it didn’t matter— but it fucking does. It changes everything.

I throw the file in the passenger seat and start driving. I don’t give a fuck if Astra answers me or not. She’s the only person I can talk to about this right now.