Page 80 of Darkest Sin

Wanting to start out slowly, I raise the hem of my shirt and show him the slice his men made in my torso when they began cutting me out of my clothes. My cuts are stitched up now after spending the majority of the night being tended to by Killian’s doctor, but they’re still just as painful as they were when they first happened.

“You see this?” I demand. “You left a scar on my body. Twenty-three of them, in fact. And now, you will bear the same scars so when you descend into hell, even the devil will know what a pitiful, little man you are.”

And with that, I step even closer, and press the tip of the blade right to his torso before digging it deep. Ezekiel clenches his jaw and groans in agony as I simply stand back and look at my handiwork. It’s certainly much deeper than the cut that was left on my skin, but nobody said it had to be fair.

Moving on, I lift my gaze to his chest, and as I plunge the knife into his skin, the burden of his abuse begins to lift off my shoulders. Each cut takes away just a bit of the shame, and I go on and on until every last scar is mirrored on his body.

I let out a heavy breath, turning to face Killian. His deep gaze locks on me, and the pride behind those dark eyes fills me with the deepest joy. Without a second thought, I know that I will do everything within my power to see this look in his eyes every damn day for the rest of my life.

His phone is wedged between his ear and shoulder as someone speaks to him, and to be honest, I didn’t even notice his phone ring. He walks into me, his hand falling to my waist as he finishes his phone call, and the moment the phone slips away into his pocket, he lifts his other hand to my chin and leans in. Killian brushes the softest kiss upon my lips, and I savor every second of it, erasing the horrible memories and replacing them with ones like this.

“You know,” I say, barely even aware of the dying man behind me. “It’s almost comical how just a few days ago, the thought of these cells terrified me, but now . . . they seem to offer some kind of twisted justice.”

“It does,” he agrees before nodding toward Ezekiel behind me. “Are you finished with him? Or would you prefer I keep him alive?”

I shrug my shoulders. “It’s your call. I’m done with him. I don’t plan on ever coming into this cell again, as long as he occupies it, of course. As for you, if you feel what’s been done here today isn’t sufficient, then by all means, have at it. I don’t care if you wish to keep him down here for an hour or a lifetime. It’s up to you.”

His eyes sparkle with excitement. “It seems I’m the one who needs to fear you, not the other way around.”

I scoff. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Killian DeLorenzo.”

He laughs before a wave of seriousness washes over him, and I feel a heavy weight drop into the pit of my stomach. “That was Cristian on the phone. We found them, Angel. Sergiu and Monica. They’re in South France in an underground bunker,” he tells me. “Now, I know you’ve already had a very long day, so the choice is yours. You can stay here and heal, or you can come with me. Either way, my jet is ready to take off.”

My brows arch. “You have a jet.”

“Of course I have a jet,” he says. “I have three.”

“Three?” I scoff. “Why the hell do you need three?”

“Why wouldn’t I need three?”

I gape at him, realizing he’s absolutely serious. He simply doesn’t comprehend how three jets would be excessive, and all I can do is smile at him as I look up into those dark, deadly eyes. “You know, I’ve never been to France.”

“You’d like to come?”

“Do I get to dress for the occasion?”

“Absolutely.”

“And will you take me to see the Eiffel Tower afterward?”

“If you wish.”

“And the Colosseum?”

His brows furrow. “That is in Rome, Angel.”

“Oh, I know.”

He lets out a breath, clearly working out my game plan. “Of course, Chiara. Any other stops you’d like to make along the way?”

My grin is bigger than ever before, instantly sending an ache deep into the apples of my cheeks. “Why don’t I make you a list?”

Killian laughs and lowers his hand to my back before leading me out of the cell, neither one of us bothering to stop and glance back at the mess we’ve left behind. We make our way out of the cells and back to the main house, when we pass the doctor who spent the early hours of the morning stitching me back together and offering me the little pill that could prevent any unwanted pregnancies from my night of hell.

Killian stops and meets his curious gaze, clearly knowing there’s more work for him to do. “Cell three. Find a way to keep the bastard alive without removing the sheers and that big property you’ve been looking at for your wife and kids is all yours.”

His eyes bulge out of his head. “Certainly, Sir,” he says before pausing and thinking better of it. “How long will he be required to live?”

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