Page 44 of Darkest Sin

What a fucking asshole.

I have no idea how I’m supposed to play that card, but what I do know is that I need to keep my eyes wide open. I might feel as though I have the upper hand here, but truth be told, I’m fighting a war I know nothing about, and right now, all I am to Sergiu is a barricade that stands directly in the path of what he wants.

Krista helps me into the shower, and after making sure I’m not about to slip and hurt myself further, she leaves me be, and I take my time to wash the dried blood out of my hair. Killian and Krista gave it a good try last night, but there’s nothing quite like a proper shower to make you feel clean.

I take my time to scrub the scum off my body, and then just because I spent a good portion of my night laying on the bathroom floor, I scrub myself again. When I finally feel clean and my body has relaxed under the warm water, I turn off the taps and reach for my towel before noticing the clean underwear and silk robe that’s been placed just inside the bathroom door.

A small smile stretches across my face. I barely know Krista, but she cares for me in a way I’ve never been cared for before, and while I know she’s just doing her job and following orders, she always goes the extra mile.

After getting myself dressed, I dry my hair and spend a few moments rubbing moisturizer into my sore skin while doing everything I can to avoid my reflection in the mirror. It’s not pretty. The bruises are dark and unforgiving, and the stitches just make everything look worse. The less I look at them, the more I’m able to pretend they don’t exist—until I yawn or move in the wrong way, then it all comes crashing back.

Once the painkillers have started to do their thing, and my headache dulls, I venture downstairs to find Krista putting the finishing touches on what looks to be Killian’s lunch. “Is that for Killian?” I ask, eyeing the meal and wondering just how much of it I can steal. Despite just having breakfast, I could still eat.

“Sure is,” she says, eyeing me suspiciously. “He’s due to be back any minute. I was going to leave it in his office for him.”

I lift my gaze to Krista’s as a sheepish smile pulls at my lips. “Would you mind if I took it in for him?”

She grins back at me as if some kind of secret just passed between us, but honestly, I have no idea what. “I wouldn’t mind at all,” she murmurs, trying to smother her smile.

Wanting to escape before she tries to find meaning in this, I grab a knife and fork and scoop up the plate, all while Krista watches my every move. Taking off, I make my way through the massive estate, weaving through hallways until I finally come to Killian’s office. It’s huge. I’ve walked past here before, stopping by the door to peer in, but I never had the nerve to go inside. Things seem different now. It’s as though something has shifted between us, and I no longer fear him as I should.

Stepping inside, my gaze shifts around the luxurious office, taking in the big mahogany desk and the matching bookshelf. There’s a private bar area with a few armchairs that give off gentlemen’s club vibes and a private storage room that I can only assume holds secrets that someone like me should never be privy to.

Making my way to his desk, I put his lunch down, making sure it’s perfectly centered, but I can’t help but notice there’s nothing personal in here. In fact, there’s nothing personal in the whole estate. No photos, certificates, or little knickknacks on the shelves. It’s as though Killian’s home could belong to anyone. He could just walk out, and a new owner could move right in without having to change a single thing. It’s impersonal, a stark contrast to the small apartment I’ve lived in for the past few years. I went out of my way to decorate each space with my personal taste—not that I could afford much, but I tried wherever I could.

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I search through his office for any sign that he’s human or that he has a single sentimental bone in his body. I start with the desk drawers, but after seeing a manila folder with my name on it, I decide that perhaps the desk drawers of a mafia boss really aren’t somewhere I should be peeking into.

Am I surprised? No. I expected it. But seeing it in the flesh has something clenching within me, and it’s not exactly a comforting feeling.

Moving around his office, I make my way over to the massive shelf. He has meetings in here all the time. So surely what he has on display are things he won’t mind curious eyes skimming over. Right?

Shit. Maybe I should just leave.

Killian has been so patient with me. He’s kind and allows himself to be somewhat vulnerable with me, but I don’t know how he would feel about me snooping through his personal space—not that there’s anything personal in here. It’s a breach of privacy, and I’m sure if the tables were turned, I wouldn’t be so welcoming of it either.

Damn. Besides, it’s not like he’s going out of his way to mask his life from me. I’m sure he would answer any questions I might have with probably more details than my mind can handle. He keeps warning me that I should fear him, that he’s not a good man, and while I’m perfectly happy in my little bubble of delusion, a part of me wants to know the extent of it. What have I really got myself involved in here?

Deciding it’s probably best to scram, I turn on my heel and hightail it out of Killian’s office, but something on the shelf brings me to a stop.

My brows furrow, and I inch closer, not really sure what I’m seeing. It looks like a little tube of lipstick, but it’s so out of place in this terrifying space of Killian’s home. Why the hell would he have lipstick in here?

My brows furrow, and I reach for it, finding it abnormally heavy. As I scan over the little black tube, I realize there’s something more to this than meets the eye. I go to open it when I realize it’s not lipstick at all. There are two little buttons and a circle at the top, and when my ridiculous need to touch everything pops up and rears its ugly head, I press down on the button.

A loud zapping sound cuts through the room, and my eyes widen in horror as I instinctively drop the little lipstick tube.

It clatters to the marble tiles, and I follow it the whole way down, my heart racing.

Holy shit. It’s a Taser.

A moment passes where I simply stand and stare at it, not knowing what to do, but in a flash of pure insanity, I scramble for it, scooping it back into the palm of my hand and capping the lid back on. I can guarantee that Killian probably wouldn’t be comfortable with me having any sort of weapon. At least, I don’t think he would, but the idea of having something to fend off Monica or Sergiu if they came looking for me again is too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Taking the little lipstick Taser with me, I slip out of Killian’s office and hastily make my way back up to my room. As the door swings shut, I promptly whip out my new weapon in a move that could rival anything you’d see in a James Bond movie, flipping the lid and hitting that little button like a fucking demoness intent on causing havoc.

A swell of confidence booms through my chest. I won’t exactly be unstoppable with this thing, but I’ll sure as hell be able to protect myself just long enough to make an escape.

Not knowing how long the battery will last, I make my way over to my bed and drop my ass to the edge. A wide grin stretches across my lips as I imagine the very moment I’ll Taser Sergiu right in the balls. Opening my bedside drawer to drop the little Taser in, I pause in confusion.

“What the fuck?” I murmur, opening it wider and peering in.

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