Darkest Sin: A Dark Mafia Romance

20. CHIARA

Asubtle knock sounds at my door, and I peel my eyes open to find my room flooded with daylight. Pain throbs behind my eyes, and I instantly scrunch my face.

“Goddamn,” I groan.

It’s way too early to be awake.

“Chiara, honey?” I hear Krista at the door as she peeks inside. “I was just coming to check on you. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve barely even closed my eyes,” I murmur into my pillow. “What’s the time?”

Krista laughs to herself. “Almost midday,” she says. “You’ve slept almost twelve hours.”

My brows furrow as I sit up straight in bed, my wide eyes locking onto Krista’s. “No, that couldn’t be right,” I mutter, rubbing my tired eyes and instantly regretting it as I pull at my stitches. “Ow. Shit.”

I gently press against the stitches, making sure I haven’t popped any as Krista carries in a tray of bacon, eggs, and orange juice. My mouth is so dry that the glass of OJ is practically calling to me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thirsty in my life. “How could it almost be midday?” I ask her as I help make space on the small bedside table, moving the glass of water Killian offered me last night. Only I pause, staring at the water as though it could answer all of life’s big questions. “Holy shit. He drugged me again.”

Krista cringes as though knowing exactly what I’m talking about. “Only a little,” she admits. “He asked me to put a mild sedative in your water, just something to help you get a good sleep but not enough to knock you out. He was being thoughtful.”

“Thoughtful,” I scoff. “More like insane.”

“You were hurting,” Krista continues. “Believe me, the sedative was a kindness. I don’t know if you’ve ever been beaten black and blue before last night, but trying to sleep when your face is aching like that isn’t fun. He’s trying to take care of you in the best way he knows how.”

I scrunch my face and try to see where she’s coming from. I suppose she has a point. He could have completely knocked me out like he did on the drive here after the auction house, but he didn’t. He’s learning my boundaries, and if he’s able to put in that kind of effort, then I suppose I can put aside my hang-ups and be grateful for his kind gesture. After all, he could have left me to suffer through the pain. Hell, he could have left me bleeding on the bathroom floor, but he didn’t. He scooped me up as though I was the most important thing to him and raced me to get help, and honestly, I don’t think a man like that just comes around every day.

Shit. I’m getting way too deep here.

“Here,” Krista says, handing me some painkillers. “You’re going to need these.”

Grateful that she didn’t feel the need to linger on Killian being a respectable man with great intentions, I put the glass of water aside and replace it with the orange juice. “This is safe to drink, right?” I ask her in a teasing tone.

Krista rolls her eyes but can’t help the laugh that bubbles up her throat. “Yes, it’s fine,” she says. “Now hurry up and eat your breakfast before it gets cold. I bet you’re starving. Those galas wouldn’t know how to serve a decent-sized meal if it smacked them right in the face.”

I snort a laugh, recalling the tiny meal I was served last night, and honestly, it looked too fancy for me. I couldn’t even tell what it was.

As if on cue, my stomach growls, and I don’t hesitate to dig into my breakfast. My first bite is a learning curve, and my split lip screams with agony. After cursing myself for being too eager with my meal, I take smaller bites.

Krista hangs out as I eat, making her way around my room, opening my curtains, and making sure I’m actually eating. As she moves from one end of the room to the next, she tells me all about her life.

She helps me out of bed, and the movement reminds me just how brutal Monica’s kick to my ribs was. I’m grateful when Krista offers me her hand and leads me into the bathroom. She helps me pull my top over my head, and I do my best not to let the pain show. My ribs aren’t broken, but damn, they might as well be with how bad they hurt. The doctor said something about deep bruising last night, but to be completely honest, I was fading in and out. The words that were tumbling out of his mouth sure as hell weren’t registering in my head. Hell, I worked hard to zone out a lot of the shit that happened last night . . . until Sergiu decided my closed door was an open invitation for him.

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.

It looks like a “Dildos R Us” superstore in here.

Every shape, size, and color stares back at me. Little guys for those casual late nights right up to the monster cocks that literally look as though they were designed straight from some alien life form.

Six inches. Eight. Ten.

Holy fuck! Is that twelve? There’s no way that would physically fit inside a woman, not without it puncturing a lung.

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I can’t help but pull them all out and line them up across my bedroom floor like some kind of dick shrine, but I can’t decide if I should arrange them by size or color. I could turn this room into a whole dick rainbow.

God, just imagine all the fun I could have in here, though I don’t know what I’m expected to do with all of these. I only have a handful of holes. Just one would have sufficed. Or two. Maybe three. A girl needs a little variety in her life.

BUT SEVENTEEN? This is just ridiculous. Though there’s no denying that a few of them are sparking just a little curiosity. I can’t say I’ve ever fucked an alien before, but looking at the massive cock with all the angles, curves, and a base thicker than my fist, it makes me wonder what kind of rollercoaster it could take me on.

Once all the dildos are spread out in my room, I notice the array of vibrators that also fill the drawer, and my mind goes into overdrive. Did Killian put all of these in here or did he have Krista do it for him? Oh God, I hope not.

Did she personally pick out the massive alien cock?

I can imagine her scanning over it and thinking to herself, Yes, this is the perfect fit for Chiara.

Holy shit. I’ll never be able to look her in the eye again. What kind of sexual deviant does she think I am? I mean, fuck. I know I allowed Killian to take me any way he wanted, but I assumed that was information that only the both of us were privy to. Unless the walls aren’t quite as soundproof as I thought they were. Is the whole estate hearing me when he gets me off?

My cheeks burn with humiliation when a soft knock sounds at my door and it’s pushed open. Horror rocks through me, realizing that whoever’s about to walk through that door is about to get a shitload more than they bargained for, but it’s far too late to try and save myself now.

Killian steps into my room, and I watch in fascination as his usually hard features morph into surprise. His sharp gaze sweeps the room, and he’s silent for a moment before his eyes meet mine. “Did you arrange them by color?”

“Seventeen, Killian,” I state, ignoring his question as I grab hold of the monster alien cock and hold it up like a trophy. “There are seventeen rubber cocks in my drawer.”

“I think you’ll find they’re silicone,” he tells me.

I give him a blank stare as he hovers by the door, his gaze sailing over the darkening bruises on my face. “I don’t care if they’re hand carved from stone, why are there so many of them?”

Killian arches a brow. “Oh? Forgive me if I have offended. That was not my intention. I had assumed you were not opposed to using toys. I had planned on using every one of them on you.”

My brows shoot up, looking at the monster cock in horror. “Even this one?”

“Even that one,” Killian nods, his dark eyes somehow holding me captive.

“I . . . I’m not opposed to it, and I’m definitely not offended. I have a wide selection of overused toys back home. It’s just,” I say as a stupid grin begins stretching across my lips. “Why so many?”

Killian lets out a small breath before stepping deeper into my room. He moves right in front of me and offers me his hand before pulling me to my feet. A shiver sails down my spine as his fingers brush against my waist, making me wonder just how long it will take for my heart to stop racing every time he’s around me. “As I mentioned, my work is . . . demanding, and there will be times that I can’t always be here to satisfy your cravings. You seem to have quite a healthy sexual appetite, and I don’t wish for you to be left . . . wanting.” He gestures to the cock rainbow lining the floor. “With a collection like this, there shouldn’t be any reason that you are left without having your needs met.”

Hunger rumbles through my chest, and I creep closer, taking my time as I lift my hand to his warm chest. “Thank you,” I murmur. “You look after me in a way I could have never imagined when I first arrived here, and while I truly appreciate your gesture to cater to my needs in your absence, surely you must realize by now that no amount of alien dildos could possibly satisfy me the way you do.”

“Is that so?” he challenges, that same hunger flashing in his eyes. “You don’t believe I could get you off just as well with one of these silicone cocks?”

I shake my head. “I don’t deny you could definitely get me off. In fact, I welcome it. It would be hot and wild, but nothing could possibly compare to the way it feels having you inside of me and feeling the way your thick cock stretches my walls. Just the thought of it being you is enough to make me crumble,” I whisper. “You’re so powerful in your thrusts, so determined and precise. It’s captivating. And while I know you might enjoy fucking me with one of those silicone cocks, it couldn’t possibly compare to being inside me. I see the way you clench your jaw when you first push inside. It’s like it’s a shock to your system, like even though you know how good it is, it surprises you every damn time, and when my pussy clenches around you, claiming you all for myself, your whole body turns to stone, jolting with that overwhelming need that I have for you every moment of every day. God, Killian. Nothing could ever feel so good.”

“Fuck, Angel. You’re giving me far more than I bargained for. I came in here to check on you and find out why the fuck you felt the need to steal a Taser from my office,” he rumbles, pulling me closer and grinding his thick cock against me. “But that interrogation might have to wait.”

I grin as my tongue rolls over my suddenly dry lips. “What’s it going to be, Killian? Are you going to fuck me with one of those fake cocks, or are you going to give me what I actually want?”

He grins, and the hunger in his eyes morphs into devilish desire, and as if taking my challenge and one-upping me, he reaches for the discarded monster cock and casually looks over it. “I don’t see why I can’t give you both,” he says, returning that devilish gaze back to mine. “Now, strip for me, Chiara. Show me that pretty cunt.”