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I exhale again, finally relaxing.
My eyes dart around the bathroom, taking it all in.
The white marble floor shines from a fresh coat of polish. Small flecks of silver catch the light as I walk over to the large mirror hanging over the sink, making it look like freshly fallen snow. My reflection catches my attention, making me stop just before I reach the lip of the counter.
I look every part the blushing bride, but my expression is one of misery.
How did I get here? To this point in my life? How did Killian even find me in the first place? My family was well protected. Yet here I was, being held captive by a psycho gangster.
How has this happened? My father was always careful with who he trusted. Especially with something as important as a business deal. No one was supposed to know about the wedding, so how the hell did he find out?
My stomach begins to roll, and I look away—I don’t want to see myself all dolled up anymore. I don’t want to think, I just want to shed all these layers and wash them away; try and forget this day even happened in the first place.
Heading over to the shower, I slide open the glass door and reach behind myself to tug my zipper the rest of the way down. Killian had already gotten it down far enough that I don't need to strain to reach the rest of it. The skirts fall down to my ankles, enveloping me in a bundle of tulle.
I pull on the handle to start the shower, my eyes catching sight of the products on the shelf inside of it. They make me blink in surprise.
“What…?” I mumble to myself.
They were all the same products I use at home. Even down to the body scrub I’d bought just a few weeks ago.
I shake my head, a keen understanding coming to me suddenly. My legs give out from under me, and I settle into the puddle of fabric at my feet while trying to catch my breath.
This has all been planned—far in advance from the looks of it. How the hell has Killian managed to sneak under the radar so well without any of my father’s security noticing? How has he gotten so close to me withoutmenoticing?
It’s all too much.
My entire body begins to shake, and I wrap my arms around myself.
Ben is dead. And now my father probably thinks I had something to do with it— orchestrating it all with the Irish. But I would never betray my family like that. My father has to know this.
…Right?
I feel tears start to trail down my cheeks.
Would he believe me if I told him I’d been taken against my will? Would he even want me back? Thoughts swirl inside of my head, making the room seem smaller and smaller the more my breath punches out of me.
I had no real reason to kill Ben, not like this. It wouldn’t make sense for me to do something out in the open with our families watching us. Especially just to get in bed with the enemy.
But none of that matters now that I’m here with Killian, trapped. The man with an unmatchable reputation, in a city that, after his rise to power, has nicknamed him ‘The Dark Prince’, after the bodies that follow in his wake.
The thought makes me shiver. I’ve never been around people like that—ruthless and cruel, who will do anything to get what they want. Though my father ruled with an iron fist over Chicago, he prefers the art of the deal. Talking strategy. Nothing that would result in the deaths of others or innocents just to get what he wanted.
And nothing like what Killian O’Sullivan had been doing over the last few years.
I sigh and slowly lift myself to my feet. All I want right now is to wash this entire day off of me and crawl into bed and forget this ever happened.
Stepping into the hot stream of water, my body relaxes immediately. Despite everything going on right now, at least I have some peace and quiet to myself. Maybe I can get some rest before Killian decides to come for me again.
I soak under the water until my skin prunes. I guess the only thing that is nice about this place, so far, is the fact that it never runs out of hot water.
I finally decide to step out of the shower, and grab the towel hanging on the hook closest to me and wrap my body in its luxurious fabric. Even if I’ll be trapped in this house for God knows how long, there are at least some comfortable amenities.
I make my way across the bathroom and open the door slowly, peeking my head in to see if Killian actually did leave… or if he was waiting for me somewhere inside. When I notice that the bedroom is empty, I take a deep breath and step into it.
I look around, seeing the perfectly made bed, and everything else. It all seems completely untouched. Killian had said that Ava was bringing me clothes, but I don’t see anything laid out for me.
I look over to the double doors on the opposite side of the room—mostly likely leading to a closet. So I move across the room, my feet sinking into the plush carpet. This place is really nice considering the person who owns it. I never would have thought that a man like Killian could have such refined tastes. Who knew prolific killers could be into interior design?
