Page 117 of My Beautiful Sin

This isn’t the way I thought it would end.

That’s the thought I keep coming back to as I pace through the house, a stack of Oreos in my hand like poker chips. I’ve almost finished off the bag, and I feel no better. I feel no worse, either.

Mostly, I still feel numb.

Frankly, that pisses me off. We had everything going for us. Everything. Even with some horrible freak sending me creepy texts—hell, even with Range Rovers trying to mow me down—I’ve been happier than I can remember being since forever.

Since the last time I saw Devlin, though he’d been Alex at the time.

We’re linked together, he and I, and after our hard-fought battle to get back to being us, he had no right to keep such a big secret from me.

I take a bite of an Oreo, then toss the part still in my hand across the kitchen, where it lands in the stainless steel sink with a metallic clink.

Part of me wishes that Brandy was here, but she’s in San Diego with her parents for a couple of days. I’m sure her mother is thrilled, but Brandy’s dad has been distant since she was raped. I told her to call me if she wants to talk, and there is no way in hell I’m going to dump my own problems on her right now.

And, honestly, I’ll have to think long and hard before I tell her anything about Devlin’s newest revelation.

I sigh, then grab a fresh cookie. I honestly don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Mostly because I don’t know what I’m feeling. Am I angry that he’s the kind of man who can take a life? A man who is arrogant enough to take on the responsibility of being judge, jury, and executioner, fully confident in the morality of his choice? Or am I angry that he kept the secret, not trusting me to either understand or stay quiet?

Or maybe I’m frustrated with my own hypocrisy. I knew Max would die in that New York alley all those years ago, and I felt only two emotions. Gratitude for the man who protected me and fear that some evidence would be left behind that either implicated me or my savior. More recently, I’d watched Devlin pummel Walt, and the only emotion I’d felt was fear that he’d get skewered by the press or sued by Walt for assault.

The actual attack? Well, that Walt had coming to him.

But unlike Max and the others Devlin has assassinated, Walt is still alive.

Fuck.

My thoughts are spinning, wild and fast. But there in the middle, like the eye of the storm, is Devlin. Always Devlin.

I love him. I do. And even knowing what I now know can’t change that.

So the question is, can I live with what he’s done? The secret he kept from me? The life he lives beneath the surface?

I don’t know the answer to that. But I do know that there’s only one way to find out.

I need to go talk to the man I love.

I don’t call or text. I just go over and let myself into his house. I expect to be waiting a while, and I’m surprised when I hear the rumble of the garage door in under half an hour, followed quickly by the sound of the door into the house opening and closing and Devlin calling out, “Ellie?”

My breath catches as I rise from the couch, and I immediately feel like an idiot. Of course he gets notifications when someone punches in a code. And of course he has cameras surrounding the house.

I’m looking toward the hallway that leads to his garage, and my heart stutters the moment I see him. He freezes in place, his eyes on mine and full of hope. He takes a tentative step toward me, then stops. “Why are you here? Are we—”

“Don’t ask me that,” I say. “Not yet.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to argue. But then he nods before gesturing for me to sit down again.

I do, then point to the bag of Oreos I brought with me. “In case you need some chocolate, too.”

A smile flickers on his lips as he sits opposite me, then reaches for a cookie.

“All right,” he says, then draws a breath. “Say what you came to say.”

Immediately, I feel stupid. “It’s not that.” I rush to reassure him. “I’m not here to tell you to go to hell. I’m not here to tell you I’m going to call the authorities or write a damn expose.”

His jaw tightens. “That’s good to know. Why are you here?”

“I have questions. Before—I wasn’t thinking clearly. I am now.” I lift my chin. “Tell me the details. How it works. How you’re funded. Who’s on your list.”