Page 37 of Darkest Sin

The bathroom door opens, and I plaster a smile across my face as a few women saunter into the small space, doing my best to appear graceful and deserving of being the woman who stands at Killian’s side.

When they don’t make their way toward the stalls and gather behind me instead, I lift my head as a wave of nerves settles deep in my stomach. There are four of them, each one just as beautiful as the last, but I don’t dare underestimate them. I know women . . . mostly. And this is the furthest from a friendly introduction to welcome me to the family. These bitches are looking for blood.

The words Killian uttered to me just moments ago flash through my head—How you respond will determine the kind of strength you possess. They’d sounded so graceful coming out of his mouth, but now, just moments away from having that strength put to the test, it doesn’t seem so motivating.

Fuck. It sounds downright terrifying.

These aren’t the kind of women I’m used to dealing with in the bars I’ve worked at or the mean bitches from school who look down on you for not having a life worthy of their upper-class tastes. These women are on a whole new level, and I don’t know if I’m ready for it.

The woman who stands closest holds my stare through the mirror, and I immediately recognize her as Sergiu’s wife, but her name doesn’t appear inside my head. Letting out a heavy breath, I turn to face her while doing what I can to hide my shaking hands. “Let’s just get this over and done with so we can get back to the party,” I say, not ready to be some pushover despite the fear rocketing through my chest.

“You don’t belong here,” she says.

An unladylike scoff tears from the back of my throat, and I instantly regret the laugh that booms in her face. “Are you serious right now?” I ask dumbfounded. “That’s what you came in here to intimidate me with? That I don’t belong? Wow. Are you trying to point out the obvious? I could have told you that.”

“Oh my God,” one of the other women says, arching her brow in disbelief. “She thinks she’s better than us.”

Fucking hell. This really isn’t going to go well.

“I never said that,” I throw back at her, fixing her with a stare that would have made my ex wet his pants, though somehow I doubt it would even make Killian flinch. “However, I’m not the one ganging up with her little friends trying to corner some woman in a bathroom, so take what you want from that.”

The woman sneers at me, but Sergiu’s wife takes the lead once again. “My husband has told me all about you, all about the whorehouse Killian took you from. You’re nothing but a whore made to cater on the mattress of greater men. You’re no wife, and soon enough, Killian will see that, and you’ll be handed around like the common whore that you are. Forgotten and discarded.”

“If that’s so, why are you so pressed about it?” I challenge. “If I’m just some whore who’ll be tossed aside when the next best thing comes along, why bother putting on this little show at all? It doesn’t make sense. Unless you’re threatened, of course.”

“Threatened?” she scoffs in disgust. “Of you? I hardly think so.”

“Right,” I say with a devilish smirk that clearly grates on her nerves if her sneer is anything to judge by. “Well, here’s the thing. Just because I don’t believe I belong here, doesn’t mean Killian agrees, and as long as he’s willing to hold on to me as the woman who shares his bed and his name, then I’m willing to stick around. I’m not going anywhere, but what does it even matter to you? You have your own husband to worry about. My marriage to Killian has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me,” she spits in a rage. “I haven’t put in all these years, putting up with the wild abuse from my husband and loitering in Killian’s shadow just for some tramp like you to come along and snatch it out from beneath me. The moment you give him an heir, my husband is one step further from taking that damn crown and I won’t allow it to happen, no matter what I have to do.”

My heart races, realizing this is much deeper than I could have imagined. There’s a hierarchy here, and me stepping right into the middle of it means others who have done their time are pushed down the line, but that’s not my problem. If she wanted to be at the head of the family and spend her days wearing a crown she didn’t deserve, she should have married Killian instead. “Look, this really sounds like a you problem,” I tell her, not knowing how she thinks I can possibly do anything about this. What Killian wants, I don’t doubt he’ll get, and I really don’t think he gives a shit what this bitch thinks. “If Killian chooses to knock me up, that’s our business, but I’ll be sure to send you an invite to the baby shower.”

She glares at me, and all I can do is smile and step around her before she has the chance to respond. “Anyway, this has been lovely. We should do it again sometime, but right now, I need to go see if my husband wants me to ride him again. He’s got a very healthy appetite if you know what I mean.” I take another step, turning my back on her before glancing back and catching her eye. “Word of advice, it would do you well to stop spending your time worrying about what my husband is doing and focus on satisfying the one you’ve got.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’ve been here less than two weeks, and I already know what kind of man your husband is. But just know that when my husband goes to bed, it’s me he’s burying himself inside of. As for you, tell me. When your husband kisses you goodnight, how often do you taste another woman’s pussy on his lips?”

I give her a salty smile before finally looking back toward the door and aiming for my escape when a loud screech comes from behind me. Before I even have the chance to react, a fist is knotted into the back of my hair, pulling me back with a violent tug.

I falter, struggling to keep myself on my feet when my head is shoved forward and barrels down into the porcelain sink. “THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME, BITCH?” she screams as the women around her gasp in shock.

Pain ricochets through my face, and as I scream, I feel blood trickling down my face. Her hold on me doesn’t falter, and sheer panic pounds through my chest as my head spins, unable to catch myself or find traction to stop this insanity.

“LET HER GO, MONICA! FUCK!” Someone rushes out, only the grip on my hair is tightened, and I’m yanked back before being slammed down again. “KILLIAN IS GOING TO END YOU.”

My lip splits against the porcelain as pain blasts through the side of my mouth, my teeth aching as I taste the familiar rust of blood in my mouth. My eyes roll in my head, disorientation quickly claiming me. The hold in my hair suddenly releases, and I drop heavily to the ground, my head smacking against the hard tiles. Before I can even cry out in agony, the sharply pointed toe of her designer heel rams into the side of my ribs.

I’m kicked up against the wall of the ladies’ bathroom. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Something cracks as tears stream down my face, and hearing the sound of her stiletto heels against the tiles, I risk a glance just in time to see as she kneels down right in front of me. “You don’t want to try me, bitch,” she says. “Consider this your warning. Even think about showing your face again, and I will destroy you. You’re a whore, and you’re going to disappear like one.”

One of the other women grabs her arm and starts dragging her away. “Come on, we have to go,” she rushes out, dragging the bitch along. I don’t dare take my eyes off her, watching every step as the four of them make their way out of the bathroom. I hold my breath until the door finally closes behind them, and when it does and I’m all alone, I let the fear and pain consume me until the dizziness finally claims me and my world turns to ashes.

18

KILLIAN

My fingers drum impatiently against the table, looking out at the dance floor as my cousins dance with their wives. Chiara has been gone for far too long, and my patience is wearing thin. I am trying to be respectful, trying to give her the time she needs to clean herself up, and no doubt have a moment of solitude. These family events can be daunting to an outsider. We’re an intimidating bunch, and for most people, standing in the same room can be terrifying, but Chiara was doing well holding herself together. She has nothing to fear as my wife. Nobody will touch her.

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