Page 138 of Sinner's Salvation

“I get that you want to show me off but you don’t need to go to this length, using your public persona.”

She uses air quotes around the word “public” because she knows the real me: a man terrified to show his feelings, a man capable of killing, a man who is part of the Syndicate that rules the underworld.

Fuck, if I’m being honest, I have no fucking idea who I am underneath this suit.

“I just wanted to take you out.”

“Why? Do you want another game, another deal?”

“You want the truth. The truth is, I don’t know what I am doing, except that I want you desperately in my life.”

I want to be a man worthy of you.

“Yes, but the way you want me . . .”

“This is not about my sexual proclivities.”

She fakes a smile because she knows eyes are on us.

“How was the visit with your parents?”

“Good. My little sister kept asking if I am still a vigilante.” A bright smile paints her face. “She thinks I am a vigilante when I wear the wig, so no one will find out.”

“She has quite the imagination.”

Her entire posture changes, and I find her hands over the table.

“She’s the superhero, not me.”

“Why is Serena such a sensitive issue?”

She bites her lower lip, her expression tight with indecision. Seconds stretch, twisting my chest until she opens her mouth.

“She saved my life.”

How can a child even do that? My mind processes the information I’ve gathered on her. “How?”

Violet lowers her chin and looks inconspicuously around us. “You want to talk about this here?” she whispers.

Letting go of her hands, I lean back with a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t think we have ever been normal. Why shouldn’t we make our first date something deep and meaningful?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m done drowning in my past and the what-ifs, especially when you are in front of me, dangling something much more appealing.”

She takes a sip and says, “Fine.”

The waiter places our meals in front of us, and I grumble at the bad timing.

“I’ll still tell you. The difference between you and me,” she says, “is I hate being shackled by the past.”

If this isn’t the woman capable of bringing me to my knees, putting me in my place, and challenging me to do better—for her sake and my own, then there is no other.

He takes a sip of champagne, his eyes solely on me. Having all his attention is such a heady sensation I never want to miss. The moment I realized that beneath his cold and demanding persona was just a man desperately trying to stay hidden, I wanted to show him he doesn’t have to do that with me. Not that it has worked, but when he’s like this, it’s as if our jagged pieces fit together perfectly. Separated, we’re broken halves. Together, we’re a beautiful whole.

People sneak glances at us, me especially. I slip into easy smiles, even though our conversation isn’t light. Maybe being a politician’s daughter leads me to perform, even subconsciously.

With every one of Cameron’s confessions, I’ve peeled away another layer, but there is more uncovering to do on both sides. Looking at him, I realize I want every scarred and broken piece of my husband. If I expect him to be brave, I have to do the same.

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