Shades of Sins (New York Sinner Series Book 2)

14| Heaven

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Heaven

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Chapter 14: Heaven (Dante's POV)

No clear motive, different murder weapons, and no consistent victim profile. So far, we had nothing. Not a single witness and not a single piece of evidence. All we found tonight was one note tied with a thread on the wrist of Monica Coleman's body. A small card that read, 'My angel from heaven.' 

It confirmed what we already knew; she was portrayed to be a fallen angel from heaven, but whatever the underlying message was, we missed it once again. 

My lighter clinked repeatedly in my hand as I opened and closed it, leaning against the hood of my car, thoughts of this case racing through my mind. I tried racking my brain for every possible theory, every possible suspect, only to come up with nothing. 

Agitated, I brought out a pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, resting it between my lips and contemplating whether I should light it or not. I continued to snap the dull golden lighter open and shut between my fingers, dwelling on both the case and the dilemma of smoking that cigarette. 

I was by no means a chain smoker and never had been, but I lit one from time to time to take my mind off of things, to occupy myself. It kept my hands busy and my mouth shut. With one final clink of the lighter, as I snapped it shut, a pair of Louboutins came into view, and upon lifting my gaze, I found Anastasia standing before me. 

Her eyes held mine for a beat before drifting down to the cigarette held between my lips. She nodded at me, "You're already halfway there. Why not just light it?" 

A wave of annoyance washed over me as I stared at her. "What's wrong, Ms Vitalio? Does it bother you?" I asked dryly, pushing off the car and taking a step closer to her. 

"It never bothered me then," she said quietly, taking a step forward and then another, slowly closing in on me and erasing the distance between us. "Why would it bother me now?" Glancing at the lighter between my hands before looking into my eyes again, she swiped it out of my palm and snapped it open, lighting the flame, and bringing it to my lips, just a whisper away from the butt of the cigarette. 

Pocketing my hands, I lifted a brow at her and tilted my head slightly. 

Raising her brows at me, almost as if she was inviting me to a challenge, she took one final step closer to me. My body brushed against hers, and she brought the flame to the butt, igniting it. "I may never understand why you do it or why you can't quit it," she added, "but I couldn't care less, Mr Rossi. Best case scenario, you choke on it." 

A smirk tugged at my lips as she dropped the lighter in my palm and moved to stand beside me, folding her arms across her chest. "It's not an addiction," I told her, "simply a habit." 

"You couldn't quit if you tried," she scoffed softly. "It doesn't take long to grow addicted to our habits." 

I let out a breath, a cloud of smoke surrounding the air as I stepped forward and stood in front of her instead. 

She eyed me with doubt and shuffled back as I moved closer, keeping the cigarette between my fingers as I leaned forward, bracing my arms on the hood of the car until her back met the edge.