Page 121 of Heartless Sinner

I watched. They broke. I moved on.

Daphne had fucked up that simplicity.

Part of me wanted a front-row seat to her breaking.

The other part wanted her to know I was there if she did.

Which is fucking pathetic.

I’d even told her the video of her dad was fake. That little performance had been my father’s brilliant idea. It was meant to gut her, and it had. I’d watched the life drain from her face when she thought her father was being murdered.

I fucking hated it.

Her father would happily dance on my dad’s grave, but Daphne would never speak to me again if I murdered hers.

It seemed there were limits to how far I was willing to go for revenge when it came to her.

With Sinclair, I’d had to ask permission to kill him. At first, everyone told me I’d lost my fucking mind. You couldn’t just kill a professor without enough reason.

So, I found them more reasons.

Nico hacked into the university database and dug up prior complaints from female students. Daphne wasn’t the first one. There were even rape accusations buried in his history. After that, the vote was unanimous.

The Initiation Chamber was cold when I walked in. Hundreds of candles cast dancing shadows across the room.

Daphne was already waiting for me in the center.

My Fawn.

The black robe swallowed her body, but I knew every inch hidden under it. Every curve. Every place that made her shiver.

Above us, rows of masked figures stared down from the tiers. On the main level, the other Sons stood like statues against the wall.

I adjusted my mask and headed straight for her. Her gaze cut through the shadows and found mine.

I stepped in front of her, pulled off my mask, and dropped it at our feet. Up close, I could see exactly how hard she was working not to fall apart.

“Daphne,” I silently mouthed.

Just for her.

No one else needed to see that shit.

I’d told everyone that choosing Daphne was nothing more than revenge.

A Fawn I wanted because Cory wanted her.

A way to punish her father.

I wasn’t sure I believed my bullshit anymore.

And I sure as fuck didn’t need anyone else figuring that out.

I scanned her from head to toe, taking in her black robe. Hers had a hidden heart sewn into the lining, and a D wrapped in a saint’s halo marked her sleeve.

Then I noticed the blood staining her hair.

Sinclair’s.