Page 1 of Aria

PROLOGUE

CHELSIE

FIVE YEARS EARLIER

His hands were around my throat.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Sweet Chelly Belly,” he sing-songed, his eyes long past dead. “You look so pretty when you struggle.”

“I-Ian… pl-please…”

“Even prettier when you beg.”

My lungs burned for air as I kicked at him, my legs flailing wildly. Ian’s hulking frame caged me in, my body trapped between his knees as he loomed above me with amusement dancing across his lips. Peppermint shampoo tickled my nose, fusing with the gin on his breath.

I couldn’t breathe.

Gasping and choking, I squeaked out more desperate pleas. “Let… let me g-go…”

“Don’t you want to know, Chelly Bean?” His fingers curled harder around my fragile neck, bruising and punishing.

“Wh-what?”

I kept kicking, kept fighting, kept begging for mercy.

Ian grinned with malice. “Don’t you want to know what it feels like to take your last breath?”

My eyes popped. Fear swam through my veins, potent and palpable.

This was it.

I was going to die at the hands of someone I once called my lover.

But Ian was no lover—he was always a monster, and monsters couldn’t love. I’d been a fool to think there was a man hiding inside all of that ugliness.

I clawed at his face, adrenaline and survival giving me a second wind. Thrashing beneath him, I shot my knee up until it connected with his groin, but I was too weak. Too frail.

He just laughed.

“I… I don’t want to die…” I rasped.

Ian’s smirk seemed to freeze in place for a moment before he finally let go. Jumping off me, he rose to his feet and scratched at the coarse bristles on his chin. “I s’pose you’re more fun to play with when you’re alive.”

It took a long heartbeat for me to realize I could finally breathe.

I sucked in a giant mouthful of air, my hands trembling as my fingertips touched my throat. Pain radiated through me, my lungs wheezing, still fighting for breaths.

He always got like this when he drank—nasty and violent. Ian loved playing games with me. He got off on my fear.

Finding a jolt of strength, I scooted myself backward until I was pressed up against the far wall with a heavy chest and glistening eyes. Tears fell as I whispered, “Stay away from me, Ian. I-It’s over.”

He barked a cold laugh. “It’ll never be over, Chelsie.”

“It is,” I insisted, nodding emphatically through my tears. Two gray-blue eyes stared back at me, twinkling with steel and frost. “I’m done. I’m done being scared and weak and—”

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