Page 110 of Two Sides of Sin

“Reminded me of when we were kids.”

The tragic irony of the words stopped the breath in my lungs. Little does she know, everything she does reminds me of when we were kids. She was entirely unaware that the man driving the car had loved her before she was even born, had grieved her death for a century, and would gladly burn the world down to the bedrock to keep her breathing today.

I turned my head to look at her.

The afternoon sun broke through the overcast clouds, casting a warm, golden halo across her face. The exhaustion couldn’t hide how utterly, devastatingly beautiful she was.

The looming suffocating dread of my brother’s hunt—it all suddenly evaporated, melting away under the gentle, hypnotic sound of her voice.

I was completely, hopelessly infatuated with her. It was a terrifying, all-consuming devotion that eclipsed anything else I’d ever experienced.

I reached across the centre console, my hand gently wrapping around hers. She stopped singing for a second, her eyes fluttering open to look at me, a soft, tired smile finally touching her lips. She turned her hand over, lacing her small fingers perfectly through mine, holding on tight.

Hell was undoubtedly coming for us. Cain was a deranged psychopath who would never stop hunting her until he had broken her mind and chained her to his side.

But in this perfect moment, with the haunting music filling the car and her warm hand resting safely in mine, I felt like I was already in heaven. My angel was finally next to me again, and this time, I was never letting her go.

Chapter 62

Julian

The iron security gates of the estate parted silently as the Land Rover approached, welcoming us into the dense, now overgrown tree line.

The winding driveway stretched on hidden from the main road, before the trees finally broke to reveal the house. It was a massive, sprawling piece of modern architecture—sleek lines of dark cedar, forged steel, and expansive walls of floor-to-ceiling glass built seamlessly into the side of the mountain.

Money had never been an object for my brother or I, long before this cursed life. We had been born into a suffocating, aristocratic wealth long before this modern world had even taken shape. Over time, that fortune had only compounded into something limitless. Cain and I owned properties, penthouses, and hidden estates in almost every country on the globe.

But out of all the fortresses I had built to hide in, this one was my favourite.

It was situated far out from the suburbs, isolated from the noise and the suffocating crush of humanity. When the bloodlust grew too heavy, or the turbulent, chaotic memories of my past threatened to break my mind, this was where I retreated to block the world out and forget.

Nature was the only thing that had ever made me feel remotely close to June after she died.

Every time I bought a new property, no matter what continent I was on, I made it a strict, sacred tradition to build a massive flower garden on the grounds. I had spent years planting roses, nightshade, and daisies in the dirt with my bare, bloodstained hands, desperately trying to keep June’s memory alive through the roots.

I put the car into park, killing the engine, and turned to look at the girl sitting next to me.

She was looking out the window, her eyes wide and reflecting the towering pines. She wasn’t a memory anymore, no longer a ghost I had to plant flowers for. She was breathing, she was warm, and she was sitting right here in my car.

A fierce, protectiveness flared in my chest. The universe had miraculously given us a second chance. A chance to actually live the life that Cain had so brutally ripped from our hands before it had a chance to ever begin. And I would slaughter anything that tried to take her from me.

I stepped out of the vehicle, the crisp, clean mountain air filling my lungs. I walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for her, and easily slung her heavy duffel bag and tote over my shoulder.

“Come on,” I murmured, offering her my free hand.

She stepped out onto the polished stone driveway, her head on a swivel as she took in the imposing scale of the estate.

I led her up the wide stone steps, pausing briefly as the concealed facial recognition scanner hummed to life. A thin line of red light swept across my features, mapping the bone and shadow of my face before the heavy doors clicked open with a hiss of pressurised air.

The grand foyer immediately gave way to a massive, sunken living room. The entire back wall of the house wasn’t a wall at all—it was a soaring, two-story expanse of reinforced glass. It offered a complete unobstructed, breathtaking view of the dense, moody forest pressing right up against the property line, and the slow flowing, shallow, crystal clear stream cutting directly through the backyard.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the canopy, casting long, peaceful shadows across the polished hardwood floors.

Sage stopped dead in her tracks. Her hand slowly slipped out of my grip as she took a few hesitant steps towards the glass, mesmerised by the beauty of the wilderness that surrounds us.

She pressed her fingertips lightly against the cool pane of glass, letting out a soft, breathless gasp.

“Julian…” she whispered, her voice echoing faintly in the massive, quiet space. She turned her head to look back at me over her shoulder, “It’s breathtaking, is this all yours?,”