Page 70 of Sinful Lord

“You don’t mean that.”

I’ve barely even shut the box and shoved it into my pocket when Yasha begins her little dance, twirling toward me like a schoolgirl.

“Back. Off,” I warn.

She stops, but her twisted brain isn’t done yet. She just can’t let go.

“Don’t you just want to drag me back there and forget about all of this?” she asks, tilting down her forehead in a pathetic attempt to look cute. “We can fuck just like we used to. All wild and depraved. You can even film it if you want. I’ll throw everything away for you, Tytus. I’ve always been willing to do that. You know that, right?”

When she reaches out to touch my shoulder, I step aside and glower at her with all the hate I hold in my heart.

She’s despicable, and she nearly got Melina killed.

“You never meant anything to me,” I spit. “I’ve only ever used you for my own selfish gain. You were a boring, selfish lover. I’ve—”

I stop myself before I can say that I’ve found someone better now.

But Yasha seems to hear it anyway. Her mood instantly turns when it becomes clear her games won’t work on me. A flash of jealousy churns behind her pale green eyes.

“And you said I was a monster,” she sneers. “If that’s the case, then what does that make you?”

“The devil,” I grunt.

“I hear you aren’t the only one.”

Of course she knows about that. Fuck.

“You’ll hear a lot of things when you return to Berlin in a few months,” I brush her off.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re going on a trip. I can’t risk you telling anyone about the lake house.”

Yasha just gapes at me.

“And where the hell do you plan on sending me?”

“Get in the trunk and find out.”

“I am NOT getting in that trunk.”

“Get. In. The. Trunk,” I repeat, stepping forward.

“You said you wouldn’t kill me,” Yasha panics, scrambling back. But there isn’t anywhere to go. Not in those heels.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m just going to take you somewhere safe until I’ve figured all of this shit out.”

“Safe for who?”

“For me, Yasha,” I bluntly state “I can’t have you organizing any more ambushes, or telling anyone about our secret lakeside hideaway.”

“I won’t tell a soul!” she loudly insists. “I’ll take a long vacation. I won’t come back until you tell me to. I fucking promise! Don’t you see how scared I am?”

She’s not lying. Even the smoke drifting from her mouth retreats from me as I continue my approach.

“Just think of this as a forced vacation.”

“Please! What do you want? I’ll do anything!” Yasha’s back hits a storefront window and she’s trapped. Those wide green eyes search for help, but no one’s coming. She should have brought backup, though I’m almost convinced those fuckers she sent to kill me were the only connections she really had.