The Secret (The Evolution Of Sin Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

with you and Elena, I hope you’ll come to me. No matter what, I’m yours, I’m here for you,” she whispered, stroking a hand down my hair.
    I only nodded as the tears came freely, dripping soundlessly down my face.

Chapter Three.
    I had made a list on the plane. A list of things I had to accomplish my first week in the city. But at eleven o’clock on my first day in New York City, I sat at Cosima’s kitchen counter staring blankly at the paper, my eyes stuck on the first item lining the top; contact Elena’s boyfriend about DS Galleries .
    Cosima had left at the crack of dawn for a photo shoot in Central Park, her beautiful face bare of make up but glowing even at four thirty in the morning. I had shuffled out of my room on two hours of restless sleep and pressed a kiss to her cheek. At the time, I was happy to have the morning to myself but now as the afternoon crept closer, I found myself still paralyzed in my chair.
    I tried telling myself a million different things. That I couldn’t love a man I had only known for a week, that it didn’t matter because I couldn’t love him enough to hurt my sister, that even that didn’t matter because he didn’t feel the same way about me and how awkward would it be at family dinners knowing that he had done things to me and I to him that I had never dreamed about before meeting him.
    I tried to luxuriate in the love I felt for my sister but the material felt rough, abrasive against my skin. Elena and I hadn’t been close in a long time and I wasn’t sure if that should alleviate my guilt or deepen it.
    But it didn’t matter, and honestly, I knew no rationale would make the problem go away nor my overactive feelings about it or him. I was stuck, well and truly stuck between a rock and a hard place.
    I was just about to drag myself out of the apartment to walk aimlessly around New York, hoping to absorb my new hometown, when the landline trilled. I hesitated for a second before answering and immediately regretted it.
    “Giselle Moore? This is Margot Silver.” I recognized her professional disdain immediately – Sinclair’s personal assistant was hard to forget. “I’m calling on behalf of DS Galleries. We would like to set up an appointment for you to meet with our curator Beatrice Rossi at your earliest convenience.”
    I swallowed loudly before answering, was she going to pretend she didn’t know who I was? “My schedule is relatively open as I’ve just moved to the city. I can be available whenever is convenient for Mrs. Rossi.” 
    “Very well.” Her tone had warmed fractionally. “She has a cancelation tomorrow at one o’clock. If you’ll come to the gallery, she will see you then. Oh, and you may want to think about investing in a cell phone and joining the modern age so that it is easier to get in touch with you.”
    My hand was slightly unsteady as I replaced the old fashioned phone back on its cradle. I let out a whooshing breath and dragged my hands through my hair. Sinclair had kept his promise to Elena to introduce me to the New York City art world, but he wouldn’t be doing it himself, that much was sure. It was for the best, of course, but my heart still panged pitifully in my chest as I stalked into the bathroom to shower before lunch with my family.
     
    The streets of New York are not at all like the streets of Paris. The French city is the most visited in the world and yet even at the height of tourist season in the summer, it does not feel half so crowded as New York City on any given day. I thrilled to the bustle as soon as I descended from Cosima’s quiet apartment. My senses tingled as they were assaulted with every smell from bagels to smoke and choking exhaust and my eyes flitted across hundreds of beautiful varied faces. My dilemma was momentarily trivial in comparison to the hugeness of New York and I allowed myself to bask in humanity.
    Unfortunately, as soon as I reached Osteria Lombardi in Soho, my good mood gave way to