Sinful Lies (Sinful #2)

Chapter 45

Chapter

Forty-Five

“One day you will kiss a man you can’t breathe without, and find that breath is of little consequence.”

― Karen Marie Moning

Jade

I sank deeper into the bath, the foam teasing my eyes, the warmth of the water easing the tension in my muscles. My head tipped back against the tub, but no amount of heat could relax the chaos in my chest.

I had just killed someone.

I had just killed the man who had not only taken my sister from me, but had also hurt the only man I had ever truly loved.

The emotions swirling in me were so tangled, so high, it felt like I might drown in them.

What was I supposed to feel? What was I even supposed to do with all this?

It wasn’t regret.

I sure as hell didn’t feel bad.

The bastard was dead, and the world would be a little lighter without him in it.

It wasn’t guilt, either. That wasn’t the problem.

But it wasn’t pride. Not even close.

I closed my eyes and let my head dip beneath the water, staying there just long enough to let the silence swallow me, letting it drown out the noise in my head.

One, two, three.

I rubbed the water off my face and slumped back down, wrapping my arms around my legs and pulling them tight.

Well, I’d done it.

My revenge was checked off the list.

I just hoped the man I’d wrongly accused could somehow find it in him to forgive me.

I cleaned myself up, stepping out of the bath, drying off with Angelo’s luxurious towels—soft, fluffy things that felt like they were made for a king. I slipped into the clothes he’d left for me: one of his T-shirts that fell to mid-thigh, and a pair of boxers that were way too big, but I managed to fold them over my hips anyway.

I tried to dry my hair, but then I realized I was about five seconds away from collapsing, so I just let it air-dry and walked out of the bathroom.

When Angelo said we were going home, I figured he meant my place. But, of course, he had brought me to his. When he’d parked in his lot, I hadn’t bothered arguing. Honestly? I had been terrified of being alone with my own damn thoughts. After everything, he was probably the best distraction I was ever going to get.

I padded into the living room, but he wasn’t there.

I wandered around, eyes scanning, until I noticed the door to his office slightly open.

I swallowed the lump of guilt rising in my throat.

Last time I was there, I’d stolen his burner phone and gone off to…

Yeah. Whatever.

I was an idiot.

I pushed the door open just enough to see him sitting there, back to me, staring out the window. The reflection of his face flickered against the glass.

He was holding something in his hand. My necklace.

I circled his desk slowly, unsure. When I finally reached him, I slid between his legs and settled on his lap. He’d just showered—his hair damp, wearing a simple t-shirt and low gray pants.

He didn’t push me away. He stayed still, his hands on the chair’s arms, eyes locked on my necklace, his fingers twisting the butterflies between them.

“Angelo, I?—”

He cut me off. “Tell me everything, Jade. Don’t leave anything out.”

I nodded, my arms wrapping around his neck, my hand brushing against his cheek.

So I did.

I told him about my parents—the love they had for each other, so pure, so deep. I told him how my father passed away when I was too young, leaving us three behind, how Stella was still too little to remember him.

I told him about Stella and me—how we were more than sisters, we were best friends. How I loved her fiercely, even when she took my clothes, my makeup, or the posters on my walls. Sundays were ours, a time to bake cookies and watch movies, just the two of us. The world felt simple then, like nothing could touch us.

I talked about Lake Kendrick, how it became our sanctuary. We spent countless hours there, the quiet beauty of it giving us a space to breathe.

Then the words got harder to say, but I forced them out.

I told him about the day they died, how I watched it all happen, how I wasn’t able to save them. How I survived, but a part of me died that day too. It felt like I’d been living in the shadow of their deaths ever since, even when I didn’t want to admit it.

I spoke about the year I spent in the psych ward, the way my mind wasn’t able to accept the reality of losing Stella. It was like I was stuck in a dream, hoping to wake up and find everything back to the way it had been.

And then, I confessed the part of me that still haunted me—the addiction. The time I overdosed, the darkness that pulled me in, and how I hadn’t touched anything since.

But the cravings, they still came.

A hollow ache in my chest that I couldn’t outrun, no matter how hard I tried.

“When was the last time you really wanted it?”

I swallowed. “A few months ago, when my mama passed.”

He cursed under his breath, his hand running through his hair.

I told him how revenge had become my purpose, my only reason to keep going.

“Why did you start working for me?”

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “I did some digging into New York’s elites, and your name came up. Angelo Lazzio—most eligible bachelor, part of the big three. I was curious, so I dug deeper and found out about the families. I knew working for you would give me access to the world I needed to tear down.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving me.

I told him how, over the years, I’d built a web of information about the New York elite, how I had dirt on every single one of them.

And then I told him the truth—the part I hadn’t expected.

Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen for him.

“When I first met you, I thought you were cold, controlling… attractive,” I said softly, my hand falling to his chest. “Then, the more time I spent with you, the more I became… drawn to you. I remember the night you got me out of jail, carried me home, and thought, I wish this man would take me to his bed . But I quickly shook that thought away.”

My throat tightened, words clogging up as my eyes burned.

Come on, Jade. You can do this.

“I fought so, so hard not to let you in, Angelo. To keep you out of my heart, to force you out of my head,” I whispered, my voice breaking as I clenched my fists in my lap. “But then, last year on Christmas night, I looked through your computer. I found an email—about explosives. And for me, the puzzle finally clicked. It was you…”

The air in the room grew thick, suffocating me.

Before I could spill any more of my tangled thoughts, he cut me off.

“This was my hacking email address, Jade,” he said. “The email you found wasn’t mine. It was from the contractors to James Greg—the night before he gave the signal to turn them on.”

My breath faltered, my chest tightening as if the truth itself was strangling me.

“All it would’ve taken was one word. One fucking word, Jade. I would’ve helped you. I would’ve torn the world apart for you if you’d just—” His words died, and he leaned back in the chair, dragging a hand over his face.

The weight of his disappointment crushed me more than any shout ever could.

Tears burned my cheeks, but I didn’t bother wiping them away.

“Life has taught me that trust is a weapon, Angelo,” I whispered. “One that can always be used against you. I couldn’t… I couldn’t take the chance. I couldn’t have known you were innocent.”

His eyes locked on mine, heavy with betrayal so sharp it felt like a dagger twisting in my chest.

Then, out of nowhere, his hands reached behind my neck, and I sucked in a shaky breath as he clasped my necklace back in place.

My fingers found it instantly.

“My therapist gave me this necklace,” I sniffled, a weak chuckle slipping past my lips. “Stella had one just like it—Mama bought it for her birthday. I always loved it. When Dr. Morano saw a picture of Stella wearing hers, she gave me this one. Said it was meant to represent hope,” I murmured, the edges of a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. “I added a charm for my papa too.”

A shiver ran down my arm.

Pain had been my constant for the last decade—pain, sadness, and too much self-loathing. A part of me feared that now, after reaching the goal I’d been chasing, I’d fall back into my demons and drown in it all over again.

“I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, or forget.” My eyes met his, steady but weighed down with regret. “But I need you to know… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for using everything you gave me against you. For making you trust me. For letting you fall in love with me. I’m so, so sorry, Angelo.”

He ran his tongue across his teeth, eyes never leaving mine, his silence deafening.

His fingers grazed my cheek before sliding down to grip my neck, pressing against my pulse. I pressed my hands flat against his chest to steady myself, but it was pointless—every inch of me was pulled into him, unable to escape the heat that radiated off his skin.

“When I pulled you out of jail on your birthday, and heard about that yoga instructor, I lost it. Found him at his place after the ER. Shot him cold. Same with Nathan Simons, and every other asshole you entertained over the years.” His grip tightened ever so slightly around my neck. “You wanna know why?”

He had killed Nathan Simons?

Well, that explained why I’d never gotten a follow-up text after our little sexcapade.

Unusual, really—most men couldn’t help but come crawling back for more.

I shook my head.

He yanked me closer, his fingers digging deeper into my neck.

“Because the mere thought of anyone else touching you, making you smile, taking any part of you—it drove me fucking insane. I needed all of you. Your eyes, your mouth, your thoughts, your dreams… hell, even your insults. All of it. For myself. And the fact that you gave them to other men? Under my fucking nose…” He let out a low, humorless laugh. “I couldn’t hurt you for playing me, torturing me. So I made them suffer instead.”

I knew a part of me should be terrified, but even with the blood of all my ex-flings slipping down his hands, tainting me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was safer with him than I’d ever been with anyone else.

I hummed softly, my nails digging into his chest. “That’s a really unhealthy coping mechanism, Lazzio.”

His lips were now inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“You have no fucking idea what I’d do to keep you,” he murmured, his lips grazing mine with a teasing restraint that only stoked the fire. “I’ve spent years drowning myself in work, running halfway across the world just to put some distance between us—to starve this obsession for you, to pretend I could cut you out of my mind. But now? Now, I’ll go to whatever lengths it takes to make sure no one else touches you, tastes you, claims you.”

I felt a shiver crawl up my spine.

His voice dropped, low and deadly. “Go ahead—drag my name through the mud, shoot me, steal from me, lie to me, try to destroy me. But you’ll never get rid of me, Jade.”

My lips parted slightly, my eyes growing half lidded as his other hand gripped my hips.

“What if I run away?”

He tilted his head. “You could try. Change your name, erase every piece of yourself, disappear into the shadows. But I’d still find you. I’d tear the world apart to do it.” His voice dropped, sharp and possessive. “And when I do, I’ll just remind you who you belong to—body, mind, and soul.”

I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in, every syllable wrapping around my throat like a chain I didn’t want to break.

“Do you forgive me, Angelo?”

His eyes dropped to my lips, dark and cold. “No.”

My chest tightened.

My arms circled his neck, pulling him closer until my forehead pressed against his.

“What do I need to do to be forgiven, then?” I murmured, my breath brushing his lips.

I would do anything for him to forgive me and silence the guilt that gnawed at me.

His gaze darkened. “Take me to Lake Kendrick.”