Page 63 of Darkest Sin

I get through to the night of the gala, and I’ve just started to convince myself that Sergiu’s visit was a one-time thing, when he betrays me once again. Chiara lays in her bed, tossing and turning in a fitful sleep after spending a portion of her night beaten on the bathroom floor. I’d demanded Sergiu’s presence in my home. I gave him access to her.

He walks into her room, and just like the time before, he sits on the edge of her bed, clamping her mouth. She wakes immediately, that same fear from the first time flashing in her green eyes. “Even try to scream, and I will make your life a fucking misery,” he tells her. “Do you understand me?”

She’s fucking terrified, but after a short conversation, it’s clear he’s there simply to deliver a warning. He pulls her out of bed and slams her against the wall, a move she was in no condition to handle, and yet she still kept her mouth shut.

Sergiu threatens her with the usual bullshit and jabs her in her bruised ribs—the very ribs his wife had almost broken—and just when I expect Chiara to crumble, she fights back, surprising me like never before. And even though she was new to my life, she knew her place at my side and knew exactly what to say to make him fear for his own life.

Their conversation is short, and he soon leaves, but the look in his eyes . . . He’s just as terrified of her as she is of him. And while she doesn’t hold the kind of power that he does and isn’t capable of causing physical harm to him, she holds a different kind of power, one that Sergiu could only ever dream of having now—my loyalty.

She’s stronger than I could ever have known, and she handled herself remarkably against a man like Sergiu, but I stand by my decision to send her home. If all of this happened under my roof within the space of two weeks, what else did I miss? Hell, Monica was able to get a hitman access to my home for fuck’s sake.

I spend the next few hours watching through the rest of the footage and am relieved to find no other incident had taken place, but at least I have a solid understanding of why Chiara felt she couldn’t tell me what was going on. I won’t lie, her inability to trust that I could take care of it has a searing pain taking residence inside my chest. She feared Sergiu would return, and she was right to believe that he’d try. As for Monica, I’m unsure if Chiara truly worried about carrying the burden of what it would mean to get justice, but Sergiu made it clear what would happen if she even tried.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle all of this, but I can’t jump the gun without causing havoc and unrest with the family. I need to play it smart, plan this out like a game of chess, and when the time is right, I will strike. When I do, he’s going to beg for the relief of death, but it won’t come, not until he’s fully paid for the crimes he’s committed against the woman I love and the betrayals against the DeLorenzo name.

It’s well past midnight by the time I finally leave my office and make my way up to bed, and despite knowing that Chiara will be asleep, I can’t resist sending her a text.

Killian — I reviewed the footage, Angel. You should have told me.

I put my phone down on my bedside table, not expecting a response until morning, if at all, and start unbuttoning my shirt. The material falls to the floor, and just as I go to reach for the button of my pants, my phone chimes.

My brows furrow, and I look at my phone for a second before springing into action and scooping it off the table.

Chiara — You once told me nothing happens inside your home without your say-so. How was I to know you didn’t send him?

Killian — How could you ever believe that I would allow such atrocities?

Chiara — Of course I know that now, but the days after it happened, before I knew you, I didn’t. You told me you were a monster who I needed to fear. I thought you were testing me.

The guilt eats at me as I read over her words. I created an atmosphere for her in that first week where she didn’t believe I could be trusted, to the point she thought it could have been a possibility that I sent Sergiu to her. The only reason she could ever think so poorly of me is if I’d given her reason to, and that’s on me.

Killian — I failed you, Angel. I promise I will make this right.

Putting my phone back down, I go to finish undressing when I hear a noise outside my door, and I move across the room and swing the door open to find Krista in the middle of raising her hand to knock, a tray of food balanced on her forearm.

“You’re still here?” I ask.

“You haven’t eaten all day, Killian. I know you’re hurting, but it would really help settle my worries if you ate a proper meal.”

I give her a small smile and reluctantly take the tray, knowing she’s bound to stand right here until every bite is gone. Striding out of my room, I put the tray down on the small table in the sitting area that stands between my room and what was Chiara’s.

I drop down into an armchair, and as I collect the knife and fork to start eating, Krista smiles and turns to leave. “Krista, wait,” I say, watching as she pauses and turns to look back at me. “A few weeks ago, the second morning Chiara was here, you came up to deliver her breakfast. You knocked on the door to see if she was awake.”

“Yes,” she says, her gaze flashing with unease.

“You usually serve breakfast in the kitchen.”

Krista visibly swallows and averts her gaze, her nervousness as loud as the empty room beside us. “That’s correct, I do.”

“Why?”

Her stare comes back to mine as the color drains from her face. “Please don’t, Killian,” she begs. “I do not have sufficient evidence to support my theory, and I do not wish to make such accusations of your second-in-command. If I am wrong, he will make an attempt on my life.”

“Krista, please,” I say, not above begging. “I have already reviewed the surveillance footage, and you are not wrong in your assumptions. However, I need to know why, at that time, you thought it was imperative to check on her.”

“He’s a bad man, Killian. I have been here for years and met the likes of all kinds of men. I know the difference between a man who has a good heart, a man who is cunning, a man who is manipulative, and a man who is simply evil. Sergiu is that evil. He encompasses it, and the moment Chiara arrived, he was too curious for his own good. He hated her for no reason, despised her simply for being here despite her doing nothing to deserve such animosity,” she explains. “That morning he arrived too early. You weren’t due to meet him for another hour, and when he made his way upstairs, I just knew. I had no proof or any real reason to make such vile assumptions, but I felt it in my chest. He was going to attempt to hurt her, and so I did what little I could and hoped for the best.”

“Thank you, Krista,” I tell her. “I wish you had told me sooner.”

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