I know I’m being a bitch, but I can’t stop myself. Kian’s the only one who deserves my anger, but he’s not around. And a part of me is happy about that. If he were here, it would be next to impossible to look him in the eye.
My body heats up when I think about how I bent over that table for him like it’s what I was always meant to do.
Except that something had happened. Somewhere in the middle of it all, something had shifted.
He decided he didn’t actually want me. And of course, he had made the discovery right when it was most obvious that I wanted him. I showed him my whole hand, and in return, he just laughed.
Fucking bastard.
“You’re hurt,” Aisling says softly, pulling me out of my bitter reverie. “But I’m sure Master Kian—”
“You don’t even know what he did,” I snap. “Do you want to?”
“I—”
“He has a secret chamber filled with fucked-up sex shit hidden underneath this picture-perfect little mansion,” I tell her, betraying his secret in anger.
Her eyes widen a little, but I can tell that she’s not quite as shocked as I was. “Oh.”
“Oh?” I repeat. “Did you suspect as much? Did you know about his little torture room?”
“No. But I’ve seen enough sex to know that different people like different things.”
“How progressive of you.”
“Did you walk down there yourself?” she asks quietly. “Or did he force you to go?”
I falter. “I…” She eyes me and I swallow back whatever I was about to say. “I went myself,” I finish.
“Exactly. He didn’t force you—because he would never,” she says confidently. “Master Kian is not that kind of man.”
I’m about to scoff in her face when something strikes me. How can a woman employed by a man like Kian have such faith, such conviction in his morality? In his word? How can she assume the best in him when she barely knows who he is?
Unless… there’s more to their relationship than meets the eye. I feel the anger ebb slowly, as jealousy takes its place. I know I’m being downright unreasonable. Almost manic. But I can’t help it. I’ve never felt this way about a man before. I have no fucking clue how to handle it.
And suddenly, I’m noticing other things. Like how naturally pretty Aisling is. She’s got that slightly tousled look to her blonde hair and beautifully clear eyes, the kind that make men do stupid things. She’s also got the kind of personality that most people tend to gravitate to. Soft-spoken, passive, gentle.
“You seem to know a lot about Master Kian,” I drawl, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone.
She raises her eyebrows just a fraction. “I have worked for him for a long time now.”
“Oh yeah? And you love it?” I ask. “You love working for him?”
She’s looking at me with a concerned frown now. “Renata, are you sure you’re alright? You sound… troubled.”
I’m about to say something particularly bitchy, but I hold back at the last moment. I cross my hands over my chest and try to calm myself down by looking out the window. The ocean looks peaceful from a distance, but further away from shore, the peaks of the waves are frothy and white.
“You’re intrigued by him, aren’t you?” Aisling asks bluntly.
I resist the urge to look at her. If I do, I might give myself away. “Why, yes, nice of you to notice. I am in fact curious about the man who stole me from my life.”
Aisling doesn’t say anything to that. We sit in silence for a moment, both of us gazing at the distant waves.
“You know, I didn’t always trust Master Kian like I do now,” she says after some time has passed. “In fact, in the beginning, I was wary. I suppose I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Just like you are.”
I don’t respond. Two can play at that game. I don’t trust anyone in this godforsaken house. Not even the soft-spoken Irish girl with the kind smile and the heartbreaking story.
“He may have delivered me from an awful fate, but I was sure that it was for a darker purpose,” she continues. “He fit the mold, in any case. A powerful man with mob connections? I was sure I was just going to be transferred from one ring to another.”