Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
My brows furrow and he goes on to clarify. “Your dream.”
“Oh, umm . . . no. Well, kind of. It was about the night I was snatched off the street. I tend to dream about that night a lot, but in hindsight, the time at the auction house was worse. If anything, you’d think those were the memories that would play on repeat every night.”
“Not necessarily. The night you were taken was the night everything changed. Your mind didn’t know it needed to be on alert, so the adrenaline and fear would have been a shock to your system. By the time you made it to the auction house, you were already aware of your surroundings, so you may have felt that same fear and adrenaline, but you were already in survival mode. While you remember those things, your unconscious mind is working overtime to block it out.”
I nod and lift my gaze to meet his. “You really think that’s true?”
“I have no reason to doubt it,” he tells me. “I have been through many unforgiving circumstances, and if the only scars you bear are those on your unconscious mind, then I consider you lucky.”
I swallow hard and really look at him, seeing the depth within his eyes. “Here I am whining about a bad dream to a man who has no doubt suffered through so much worse.”
Killian reaches up and cups the side of my face, and I instinctively lean into him. “Everybody’s trauma is different,” he murmurs. “It’s what sets us apart from one another, and what happened at the gala tonight is the first of many stepping stones that will pave your way to greatness. When you survive the unthinkable, others begin to fear the strength you possess, and that strength is the greatest power you will ever know.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’m capable of that kind of strength.”
“Don’t doubt yourself, Angel. You are. I’ve seen it, and one day, you will see it too.”
Killian stands and inches back to the door before turning back and meeting my stare. “Get some rest, Chiara. You will feel better in the morning.”
I nod, and with that, Killian slips out of my room, leaving me to contemplate his words. When you survive the unthinkable, others begin to fear the strength you possess, and that strength is the greatest power you will ever know. I’m not sure about the power part, but I sure as hell have survived the unthinkable. I survived a human trafficking ring. I survived Sergiu, and now his wife, and despite all of that, I remain right here, ready to earn my position at Killian’s side.
I’m not running, and I sure as hell don’t want to hide. Perhaps this is the strength Killian was speaking of. Either way, I have shown that I’m not some problem that can be swept under the rug. I’m here to stay, and if Sergiu and Monica have a problem with it, then they better prepare themselves, because I’m not going down without a fight.
I intend to rise up and be the woman Killian believes I can be, and as for Monica, that’s the last time she’ll ever put her hands on me. Next time—and I don’t doubt there will be a next time—I’ll be ready.
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.”