Page 175 of Sinful Lies

But the thing about promises is that they break as easily as hearts—quietly, suddenly, and completely.

The sirens howled in the distance, slicing through the thick air like cruel knives. Closer. Louder. Mocking us.

Stella froze, her tear-streaked face turning toward me. For one fleeting moment, her eyes met mine—full of fear, love, and something else I couldn’t bear to name. Something I didn’t want to understand.

Then another siren blared, so loud it rattled my bones.

And in that single, devastating instant, it happened.

A tiny, terrified step back.

“No!” My scream tore through the air, but it was already too late.

A blinding flash swallowed everything—a force so violent it tore the breath from my lungs, the ground shattering beneath me. The air erupted in chaos, in heat, in nothingness.

And then—silence.

The ground, the air, them—gone.

Just gone.

Forever.

Chapter

Forty

“The meaning of life is that it stops.”

?Franz Kafka

Angelo

“The bastard’s here.”

I handed Vittori a glass of champagne. He tossed it back in one rough gulp, his eyes glinting with silent judgment as I pressed my back against the wall. My gaze drifted across the crowd, the decadence swallowing us whole.

We stood nearly hidden, half concealed by the bloodred curtains that framed the ballroom—dark and opulent, as if the devil himself had curated the place. New York’s finest played their parts to perfection. The elite, draped in feathered masks and carnivalesque silks, blurred like mirages—Venetian dreams brought to life. Women in vicious gowns strutted like queens; men in polished suits radiated smug power.

It was impossible to distinguish friend from foe. But enemies? You always recognized enemies.

That’s how I saw him.

Greg.

Descending the grand staircase like it had been carved just for him. An elaborate mask hugged half his face, but I’d know that bastard anywhere. His arm was locked firmly around his wife’s, his words slipping like poison into her ear as they descended. At the bottom, she drifted away—a pawn released—but him? His gaze cut through the crowd and found me, piercing straight into my goddamn soul.

“So, what’s your plan?” Vittori murmured.

I sipped my champagne. “Not killing him tonight.”

Vittori scoffed, unamused. “Why not? Bastard kidnapped you, stole from you, and now he’s got the audacity to show up at your event, rubbing it in your face.”

“Because it’s Jade’s night.”

The words stilled him. I caught the flicker of surprise, even behind his mask.

“And?”

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