Page 35 of Relentless Sinner

But there’s something about Natasha’s words that lures me to study them further and look a little deeper. Like right there in that last paragraph:

I’m not sere when I’ll see you again but pray for me like we did that summer with Mom.

I narrow my eyes and read it over, something whispering to me that there’s more here than I can see. The paragraph doesn’t seem to fit the same emotion as the rest of the note. Like Natasha was trying to convey something more. Or tell Gabriella something different.

Sere.

I get the feeling that’s not a typo and the word was written that way on purpose. The moment I think that, a pang in my gut tells me it could be some sort of hidden message.

Fuck. What if it is?

Scratch that. My gut has never, ever failed me. Not once.

So what is this hidden message?

The only thing I can think of is a location.

I glance back at my wife-to-be and wonder if my littlekrasotaknows where her sister is.

Hidden messages are designed in ways so that only those who get it know what they mean.

But there are also those like me who try to figure it out if they can. If they want to.

It’s very clever. Very clever, indeed.

Since I’m so taken with my wife-to-be, finding her sister would be of no use to me. I’m sure it would also wreak all sorts of havoc that I don’t want to be part of, so I place the note back in the diary.

I also decide to give Gabriella some grace and file the information I’ve just learned in the back of my mind for the moment. It may come in useful for another time. For something else.

I set the diary next to her on the seat and cover it over with the blanket. Just then she stirs andWuthering Heightsslips off her lap.

I catch it before it hits the ground. When I look up Gabriella’s eyes are open and she’s staring at me.

She has that wary look on her face and I notice the leap of her pulse under the smooth skin of her neck.

“Late-night reading?” I hold up the book, deciding to make light conversation.

“Something like that. I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here.”

“You can fall asleep wherever you want.” I hand her back the book. She eyes me cautiously, probably wondering if I’m going to order her to bed like that first night. “Did you read much?”

“A few chapters. I’ve read it several times before. There are sections of the grounds here that remind me of the moor in the book.” She straightens, pulling the blanket closer as the wind picks up the ends of her hair.

I glance out to the vast expanse of shadowy landscape before us and nod. “Let me guess; it’s over there.” I point to the darkest area I can see. “Where there is no moon and everything lies beneath a mist of darkness.”

I return my gaze to her knowing I’ve shocked her with my quote from the book.

“You’ve readWuthering Heights?” She sits straighter and stares at me with open interest.

“Several times before.” I borrow her words.

I won’t tell her the horrible parts of that story where I had to hide in the library at home as a boy to escape my father when he got angry with me.

I’d stay there all night reading the books from my mother’s classical literature collection. They were the one piece of her that I had to keep me sane.

“It doesn’t seem like a book that you would read.”

“What kind of books do you think I read?” I grin at her.