Page 219 of Sinful Lies

I wasted no time unwrapping it, my fingers trembling slightly in anticipation as the sleek paper came apart. Inside, I found a file—simple, but mysterious.

I opened it, the contents catching the faint light from the street-lamps as the car sped through the city. My pulse quickened as I flipped through the papers.

Until I found a contract.

Contractual Agreement

This agreement acknowledges thatMayor Nicolas McKingstonofBay Village, through this contract, hereby affirms that the property known asLake Kendrick, encompassingten acres of land, is now the sole property ofMiss Jade Whitenhouse.

Following extensive negotiations and the inactivity of the land due to the tragic explosion of Mines nearly a decade ago, the property has remained in a state of standby awaiting a new owner.Mr. Angelo Lazziohas purchased the land for seventeen million dollars and, in turn,has granted Miss Jade Whitenhouse full ownership and custodianship of the property.

I was frozen, staring at the contract, my heart pounding in my chest.

He bought me Lake Kendrick?

How?

Why?

Tears were already welling in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I quickly grabbed the note again and reread it.

It’s time to use your pain as art, amore mio.

Oh my god, Angelo.

I felt my stomach drop. That land… It wasn’t just any land. It was where my sister had died. The place where everything had changed for me. I had avoided it for so long, buried the memories as deep as I could, and now Angelo was giving it to me.

Not just a plot of land.Myland.

The car came to a halt, and the driver opened the door, offering me a smile. “I’ll keep your present safe in the car, Miss Whitenhouse, until you’re ready to head back.”

I nodded, giving him a brief smile in return, then stepped out onto the red carpet.

As I made my way through the crowd, I spotted some old clients and acquaintances, but I barely slowed my pace.

Tonight, I wasn’t here for small talk or forced pleasantries. I only had eyes for one person.

I reached the top of the grand staircase and looked around the ballroom, my gaze scanning the crowd. But no sign of Angelo.

With a frustrated sigh, I pushed my way down the stairs.

The crowd parted just enough for me to slip through, but still, no sign of Angelo.

It was like he was purposefully hiding.

“Jade?”

I spun around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash, my heart in my throat—but no. Of course, it wasn’t him.

“Oh,” I said, recovering quickly with a smile. “Monica.”

Monica Lazzio. Angelo’s mama.

I almost didn’t recognize her under the dazzling red-and-gold mask, her fiery gown sweeping dramatically across the floor, like she’d just walked out of a Renaissance painting. She looked fabulous.

“How are you,dolcezza?” she asked, her voice warm. “I’m so sad you resigned from Lazzio Exhibits Inc. Angelo will never find another like you.”

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