Page 84 of Liberated By Sin

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Page 84 of Liberated By Sin

“You must be Maksim,” Santino said, offering his hand.

The boy nodded again but didn’t speak. Commotion from inside the home broke the awkward silence, as the sound of a toddler's giggle, followed by shouts, grabbed our attention.

“Valentina!” The man’s voice held a mixture of amusement and a sorry attempt at being stern.

Just then, the heavy door creaked wider, and a little girl, no older than two, sprinted over the threshold, attempting to escape until the boy quickly scooped her in his arms.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“No, Maxy. Down!” she protested, wriggling like a worm until he nearly dropped her.

Rolling his eyes, the kid held firm until a man I assumed was Silasfinally caught up. The baby reached for him and snuggled into his chest. As small as she was, his burly size dwarfed her that much more.

“Maxy bad,” she scolded in the cutest little rasp I’d ever heard.

Maxythrew his arms up and retreated into the home.

Santino and Silas greeted each other warmly and exchanged hugs and hard claps to the back.

He turned to me and offered an easy smile that caused a scar over his right eye to crease. I returned the gesture as Santino introduced us.

“This must be the baby girl who has you wrapped around her finger.”

Silas laughed and tossed the girl so high into the air I gasped and instinctively reached out in case she fell. But clearly, I was the only one worried because her giggles rivaled Silas’s.

“This little nugget is my niece, Valentina,” he said, swinging her onto his shoulders. “Come inside. Leni should be down in a minute.”

Santino grasped my hand as Silas led us to a spacious living room with a grotesquely enormous TV mounted on the wall. I’d never seen one that size used for cartoons. When he set the baby down, she immediately began dancing to whatever catchy tune was playing.

It dawned on me then that I’d never been around a small child apart from my brief encounter with Thiago.

She was beautiful. Her dark brown hair was in pigtails, each with a crooked pink bow, no doubt from her stint as a marathon runner. A pink tutu bounced with every leap, while clunky little combat boots took away any poise she might have had. I found myself fascinated by this little human and how she exuded beauty and innocence, like she knew she was untouchable. I glanced back at the two men, who were deep in conversation.

The love Silas held for her was palpable, even in just the short exchange I’d witnessed, and Santino would kill for her by default.

Untouchable.

What would my life have been like if I had been as loved and protected as this child?

Something about her captivated me, but I couldn’t even begin to understand why. Valentina twirled and caught me staring, prompting her to approach and hand me what looked like a stuffed hummingbird she’d been dancing with.

“Maxy,” she said, pointing to the toy. “Mine.”

I was slightly confused about which Maxy she was referring to since the boy had disappeared somewhere.

“She named it after my son,” a woman said from the hallway.

Helena.

There was something to be said about women who could walk into a room and command attention and respect by presence alone. It wasn’t hard to deduce that Helena was just that. Beautiful and regal, she moved toward us, eyes on me with a look I recognized all too well. She was assessing, sizing me up—it’s what we’d all been trained to do.

The men stood, and she tipped her chin toward Santino with a devious grin.

“Nice to see you again, Santiago.”

He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “Always a pleasure. This is Amara.”

“Helena.” She introduced herself with a smile, one she’d probably practiced endlessly to perfect. But I was good at reading people, too, and I saw right through the facade. Not that I blamed her. I wouldn’t trust me either. There was something uniquely different about those who have faced and doled out death.




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