Page 93 of Deadly Secrets

I could feel the pulse in my temples quicken, and a weird sensation began to wash over me, like a rising tide of darkness slowly overtaking my consciousness.

“Come back to me, Sienna, please. Open your eyes, love. I need you.”

My senses dimmed, and the final clear thought that flickered through my mind was the unsettling notion that I hadn’t been brave enough to express my true feelings, and now, I might never get the chance to confess that I was completely, utterly, and irrevocably in love with the three of them.

Chapter 35. A DRAMATIC TURN OF EVENTS

(Sienna)

“She’s waking up.”

I slowly opened my eyes, and the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room greeted me. My throat felt raw and scratchy, as if I had swallowed a handful of sandpaper. I tried to clear my throat, but it only intensified the discomfort. The room seemed unfamiliar, and confusion settled in as I tried to piece together how I’d ended up here.

My lips were parched, and I desperately needed water.

“Water.”

“Here,” Ander said as he placed a plastic cup with a straw closer to my mouth. “Just small sips, or you’ll get sick.”

Zayn, Noah, and William stood at the foot of the bed.

My movements were slow, and my limbs felt heavy. Panic started to creep in as I realized that I couldn’t remember what had led me to this hospital bed. I tried to recall the events leading up to this moment, but my thoughts felt muddled, like a puzzle with missing pieces. The faint beeping of monitors nearby added to my disorientation. I knew I needed answers, but my immediate priority was quenching my intense thirst.

“You scared the shit out of us, princess. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a train.” I chuckled, but my laughter quickly dissolved into a fit of coughing.

Why does my throat hurt this badly?

“Oh, we’ve been freaking out over here, but sure, go ahead and laugh it up,” Zayn fired back.

“Sorry. What happened?” I asked.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Ander asked. He was seated on the bed. Once he set the plastic cup on the nightstand, he took my hand in his.

“I…I…remember talking to you. You were upset. The next thing I remember was you begging me to open my eyes.”

Ander’s lips tightened as he squeezed my hand.

“Someone tried to kill you,” Noah explained.

“What?” I exclaimed, confused. Why? Who? How? I had too many questions and zero answers. I couldn’t remember a single thing.

“Someone spiked your champagne with barbiturates, and you suffered from an overdose. You were lucky that it was almost New Year’s Eve, and the roads were empty—the ambulance arrived fifteen minutes before you went into cardiac arrest.” Zayn filled me in with details on how those minutes went by. “The police want to speak to you, but we’ve told them you need rest before giving a statement.”

“But I don’t have a clue about what happened or who could’ve done it.”

“We do,” Noah chimed in.

“Huh? You know?” I asked, a sense of worry creeping in.

“The stalker. We found a note and a black dahlia in your room,” he said, making my head spin and my body shake.

“Don’t worry, love. We have it all handled.” Ander said, reaching out to softly touch my cheek. I leaned on his hand, finding comfort in his touch.

“I’ve been in touch with a private security firm, and they’ll contact you sometime this week to set up your protection for when you’re back at Stanford. Until then, we’ll be on watch, always keeping you in sight,” William reassured me.

“You should get some rest,” Ander insisted.

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