CHAPTER TWO
Liana
Waking to Pieces
Pain.
That was the first thing I felt when I woke up.
Not the dull, manageable kind. The kind that screamed through every nerve, every muscle, every breath.
I tried to move and immediately regretted it. My ribs felt like they were on fire, my head pounded, and there was a deep, throbbing ache between my legs that made me want to vomit.
I forced my eyes open.
The room was unfamiliar. Soft light filtered through heavy curtains. The bed I was in was large and comfortable, the sheets clean and white. Medical equipment beeped softly nearby.
Where was I?
I tried to remember. Tried to think past the pain and the fog in my head.
There had been... a man. No. Men. More than one.
Hands on me. Holding me down.
Pain. So much pain.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't scream. Couldn't fight.
And then... nothing.
"Hey. Hey, you're okay."
The voice startled me, and I jerked, which sent a fresh wave of agony through my body. I gasped, tears springing to my eyes.
"Don't move," the voice said. Gentle. Male. "You're safe. You're hurt, but you're safe."
I turned my head—slowly, carefully—and saw him.
He was sitting in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Dark hair, dark eyes, a face that was handsome in a dangerous kind of way. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
"Who—" My voice came out as a croak, my throat raw.
"My name is Luca," he said. "I found you. Do you remember?"
I tried to think. Tried to pull the memories forward. But there was nothing. Just fragments. Pieces.
"No," I whispered.
He nodded, like he'd expected that. "That's okay. You've been through a lot. Do you know your name?"
Did I?
I searched my mind, panic rising when the answer didn't come immediately. But then—
"Liana," I said. "My name is Liana."
"Liana," he repeated, and something in his expression softened. "Okay. Liana. Do you know what happened to you?"
The panic spiked. I didn't want to know. Didn't want to remember.
But my body already knew. The pain told the story my mind couldn't.
"I—" I started, but the words wouldn't come. My chest tightened, my breathing coming faster.
"It's okay," Luca said quickly. "You don't have to talk about it. Not now."
"Where am I?" I managed.
"My home. I brought you here after I found you. My doctor has been taking care of you."
"Why not a hospital?"
He hesitated. "Because I didn't know if whoever hurt you was still looking for you. Here, you're safe. I can protect you."
I didn't know him. Didn't know if I could trust him.
But I was alive. And he'd said he found me.
"How long?" I asked.
"Three days."
Three days. I'd been unconscious for three days.
"What..." I swallowed, my throat aching. "What did they do to me?"
Luca's jaw tightened. "You were beaten. Badly. You have broken ribs, a concussion, a lot of cuts and bruises. And you were..." He stopped, his hands curling into fists. "You were sexually assaulted."
The words hung in the air.
I already knew. On some level, I'd known the moment I woke up. But hearing it out loud made it real.
Made it impossible to deny.
I closed my eyes, tears slipping down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," Luca said quietly. "I'm so fucking sorry."
"It's not your fault," I whispered.
"No. But I'm going to find who did it. And I'm going to make them pay."
There was something in his voice—something dark and dangerous and absolutely certain.
I should have been afraid of him. This stranger who'd brought me to his home, who spoke about violence like it was a promise.
But I wasn't.
Because for the first time since I'd woken up, I felt something other than pain.
I felt safe.