Page 43 of Darkest Sin

I swallow hard and really look at him, seeing the depth within his eyes. “Here I am whining about a bad dream to a man who has no doubt suffered through so much worse.”

Killian reaches up and cups the side of my face, and I instinctively lean into him. “Everybody’s trauma is different,” he murmurs. “It’s what sets us apart from one another, and what happened at the gala tonight is the first of many stepping stones that will pave your way to greatness. When you survive the unthinkable, others begin to fear the strength you possess, and that strength is the greatest power you will ever know.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I’m capable of that kind of strength.”

“Don’t doubt yourself, Angel. You are. I’ve seen it, and one day, you will see it too.”

Killian stands and inches back to the door before turning back and meeting my stare. “Get some rest, Chiara. You will feel better in the morning.”

I nod, and with that, Killian slips out of my room, leaving me to contemplate his words. When you survive the unthinkable, others begin to fear the strength you possess, and that strength is the greatest power you will ever know. I’m not sure about the power part, but I sure as hell have survived the unthinkable. I survived a human trafficking ring. I survived Sergiu, and now his wife, and despite all of that, I remain right here, ready to earn my position at Killian’s side.

I’m not running, and I sure as hell don’t want to hide. Perhaps this is the strength Killian was speaking of. Either way, I have shown that I’m not some problem that can be swept under the rug. I’m here to stay, and if Sergiu and Monica have a problem with it, then they better prepare themselves, because I’m not going down without a fight.

I intend to rise up and be the woman Killian believes I can be, and as for Monica, that’s the last time she’ll ever put her hands on me. Next time—and I don’t doubt there will be a next time—I’ll be ready.

20

CHIARA

Asubtle knock sounds at my door, and I peel my eyes open to find my room flooded with daylight. Pain throbs behind my eyes, and I instantly scrunch my face.

“Goddamn,” I groan.

It’s way too early to be awake.

“Chiara, honey?” I hear Krista at the door as she peeks inside. “I was just coming to check on you. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve barely even closed my eyes,” I murmur into my pillow. “What’s the time?”

Krista laughs to herself. “Almost midday,” she says. “You’ve slept almost twelve hours.”

My brows furrow as I sit up straight in bed, my wide eyes locking onto Krista’s. “No, that couldn’t be right,” I mutter, rubbing my tired eyes and instantly regretting it as I pull at my stitches. “Ow. Shit.”

I gently press against the stitches, making sure I haven’t popped any as Krista carries in a tray of bacon, eggs, and orange juice. My mouth is so dry that the glass of OJ is practically calling to me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thirsty in my life. “How could it almost be midday?” I ask her as I help make space on the small bedside table, moving the glass of water Killian offered me last night. Only I pause, staring at the water as though it could answer all of life’s big questions. “Holy shit. He drugged me again.”

Krista cringes as though knowing exactly what I’m talking about. “Only a little,” she admits. “He asked me to put a mild sedative in your water, just something to help you get a good sleep but not enough to knock you out. He was being thoughtful.”

“Thoughtful,” I scoff. “More like insane.”

“You were hurting,” Krista continues. “Believe me, the sedative was a kindness. I don’t know if you’ve ever been beaten black and blue before last night, but trying to sleep when your face is aching like that isn’t fun. He’s trying to take care of you in the best way he knows how.”

I scrunch my face and try to see where she’s coming from. I suppose she has a point. He could have completely knocked me out like he did on the drive here after the auction house, but he didn’t. He’s learning my boundaries, and if he’s able to put in that kind of effort, then I suppose I can put aside my hang-ups and be grateful for his kind gesture. After all, he could have left me to suffer through the pain. Hell, he could have left me bleeding on the bathroom floor, but he didn’t. He scooped me up as though I was the most important thing to him and raced me to get help, and honestly, I don’t think a man like that just comes around every day.

Shit. I’m getting way too deep here.

“Here,” Krista says, handing me some painkillers. “You’re going to need these.”

Grateful that she didn’t feel the need to linger on Killian being a respectable man with great intentions, I put the glass of water aside and replace it with the orange juice. “This is safe to drink, right?” I ask her in a teasing tone.

Krista rolls her eyes but can’t help the laugh that bubbles up her throat. “Yes, it’s fine,” she says. “Now hurry up and eat your breakfast before it gets cold. I bet you’re starving. Those galas wouldn’t know how to serve a decent-sized meal if it smacked them right in the face.”

I snort a laugh, recalling the tiny meal I was served last night, and honestly, it looked too fancy for me. I couldn’t even tell what it was.

As if on cue, my stomach growls, and I don’t hesitate to dig into my breakfast. My first bite is a learning curve, and my split lip screams with agony. After cursing myself for being too eager with my meal, I take smaller bites.

Krista hangs out as I eat, making her way around my room, opening my curtains, and making sure I’m actually eating. As she moves from one end of the room to the next, she tells me all about her life.

She helps me out of bed, and the movement reminds me just how brutal Monica’s kick to my ribs was. I’m grateful when Krista offers me her hand and leads me into the bathroom. She helps me pull my top over my head, and I do my best not to let the pain show. My ribs aren’t broken, but damn, they might as well be with how bad they hurt. The doctor said something about deep bruising last night, but to be completely honest, I was fading in and out. The words that were tumbling out of his mouth sure as hell weren’t registering in my head. Hell, I worked hard to zone out a lot of the shit that happened last night . . . until Sergiu decided my closed door was an open invitation for him.

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