The Secret (The Evolution of Sin 2)

He was looking at me now, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze.

“Passion is messy,” Elena said, waving a dismissive hand through the air. “I think this was one of the first things we bonded over.”

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nbsp; He nodded his agreement but his lips were tight over his teeth with restraint. I fought not to let out a bitter little laugh. Passion was the first thing Sin and I had bonded over too.

“Yes,” I managed to say. “How did you two meet?”

“Cosima introduced us.” I watched Elena’s features melt under the warmth of her recollections and felt my lungs tighten. “I was infatuated with him on sight, I think. He was wearing this gorgeous navy blue bespoke Brooks Brothers suit and it was before he let his hair get so long and unruly. He looked like such a gentleman.”

A wolf in sheep’s clothes, I thought.

“I offered to help with her English,” Sin explained. “It was as good an excuse as any.”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t resist my gorgeous tutor, now I could I? After our ‘study’ date, I was hooked and the rest is history.”

It was a cute little story, one that they had obviously shared countless times. I thought about my meet-cute with Sinclair, how I must have looked after puking for hours on the plane. The relationship that followed wasn’t exactly picture perfect either.

Once, making the comparison between the perfection that was Elena and little old me would have induced coma-like melancholy and self-doubt but I knew myself better now. I loved myself more. And I knew that despite our imperfect origins, Sin was inexplicably drawn to me.

For the first time since I found out who he really was, I wondered if that was enough to make him choose me over her.

“Oh by the way, we have an appointment with Miss Hertz this weekend. One o’clock on Saturday. I already let Margot know and she said it wouldn’t be a problem with your schedule,” Elena said.

Sinclair grew exceptionally still beside me, the kind of immobility that somehow seems more obvious than a shout in an empty room. I found myself unconsciously clenching my muscles, freezing in the act of bringing my wine glass to my lips. The air grew static as a storm began to brew.

“Elena,” Sinclair said softly. “I thought we spoke about this.”

As if to make up for his lack of movement, Elena stood up and became a flurry of activity, placing coasters under our glasses and fluffing already plumped pillows.

She didn’t look at him when she said, “I know we did, but one conversation that came from absolutely nowhere should not derail our plans to have a family.”

Oh, my God. I was paralyzed by my urge to flee, the rush of adrenaline through my blood causing some kind of overload in my nervous system. I prayed fervently, with a passion that would have rivaled Mama’s, to any God that would hear me, that they wouldn’t talk about this in front of me.

I’d never been a very lucky woman.

“We should discuss this later when we can be alone. For now, please call Miss Hertz and cancel the appointment,” Sinclair said, so reasonably that even I wanted to punch him.

But Elena didn’t rage against his condescension. Instead, she retracted into herself like a threatened sea anemone. It was almost amazing to watch her grow cold and distant, mostly because it was exactly the way Sinclair reacted to conflict. I wondered, horrified, how they ever overcame difficulties when both of them gave into the urge to flee instead of fight.

“I will not. It took us months to get this far, Daniel, and I will not cancel this appointment on one of your whims.”

“One of my whims?” Sinclair asked, with one eyebrow raised.

Elena stuck out her delicate chin.

Slowly he rose out of the chair, with such controlled discipline that I imagined his joints clicking into place like an automaton. There was something so absurdly terrifying about the calculated movements, the way he cocked his head just slightly to the side to study her. This was the businessman, the Dom, the predator. Someone that dared you to fuck with them just so that they could have the pleasure of ripping you to shreds.

Suddenly, I felt terribly for Elena.

“We aren’t happy, Elena. That is no atmosphere to bring a child into,” he said.

“Speak for yourself,” she snapped, hands on hips. “I am happy.”

He only stared at her. I’d never met anyone who could use silence as a weapon like Sinclair could.

“I want a baby.”