Chapter 15 Chapter Fifteen
Fianna.
My head was trying to split itself in two. That was the only way to describe it. A dull, relentless throb pulsed behind my eyes, like someone had taken a hammer to my skull and decided to keep swinging.
I groaned low, the sound scraping out of my dry throat, and immediately regretted it. Even that small vibration made everything worse.
Fucking hell.
I hissed through my teeth and pressed the heels of my palms against my temples, trying to hold the pieces together. Slowly. Very slowly as I cracked my eyes open. Bright light stabbed straight into my brain. I squeezed them shut again, cursing under my breath.
Where the actual fuck was I?
My heart gave a violent slam against my ribs. Panic tasted metallic on my tongue. I couldn’t remember anything after the third, or was it fourth? Shot at the booth. But I knew I blacked out. The kind I used to laugh about the next morning with friends. Except I had no friends here. And this wasn’t funny.
I forced my eyes open again, blinking against the ache. Dark wood paneling. Wait, I was on a bed. A big one. Sheets tangled around my legs. The faint thump of bass vibrating through the walls. Still at the club. His club.
Okay. Not kidnapped. Not sold to some stranger. Kian wouldn’t let that happen. He might hate me, might treat me like a nuisance, he was stuck babysitting, but he wasn’t that kind of monster.
I pushed myself up on my elbows, wincing as the room tilted. A plastic water bottle and a blister pack of pills sat on the nightstand like a peace offering. Hangover cure, probably. I stared at them suspiciously. Did I trust Kian enough to take mystery pills from him? Hell no.
I grabbed the water instead, twisted the cap, and chugged half of it in greedy gulps. It was cold. It soothed the sandpaper in my throat. I let out a long, shaky sigh.
That’s when I noticed.
My skin was… bare.
Too bare.
I froze. I looked down. Lifted the edge of the heavy duvet with trembling fingers.
Red lace. Just red lace. Nothing else.
What. The. Fuck.
My pulse roared in my ears. I yanked the duvet up to my chin like it could shield me from reality. Heat flooded my face with anger, embarrassment, something dangerously close to betrayal. Kian. That bastard. He stripped me? While I was passed out? What the hell else had he done?
I scanned the room wildly for my phone. Nothing. No clothes either. Just the bed, the nightstand, a closed door that presumably led back to his office. My stomach churned.
He better have a goddamn explanation.
I was about to throw the covers off and storm out, underwear be damned, when I heard footsteps. It was coming closer.
My whole body tensed.
Then Finn’s loud voice cut through the door.
“Kian! Are you in there?!”
Before I could think, the words exploded out of me.
“Don’t you dare step one foot in here, Finn!”
Silence. Thick, angry silence on the other side of the wood.
I could practically feel his annoyance radiating through the door like heat from a fire. It almost made me laugh. Almost.
“I wouldn’t come in there if you paid me a million,” he snapped back, his voice dripping with disdain.
My face burned. “Fuck you!”
“Where the hell is Kian?” I shouted.
“Kian was hungry for a fuck so he left.”
The words landed like a slap.
I heard his boots retreat, heavy steps fading down the hall.
Gone.
Kian had left me, drunk, vulnerable, and really blackout drunk in his office bedroom and gone to fuck someone else. So much for responsibility. So much for “you’re under my roof now.” So much for anything.
My chest twisted, sharp and ugly. Not heartbreak. No. I refused to call it that. Just… fury. Pure, boiling fury. And underneath it, something small and stupid that felt a lot like hurt. He fucks around like it’s nothing.
I blinked hard. My eyes were stinging. I wasn’t crying. I was just pissed. Really fucking pissed.
My head still pounding, I shoved the duvet aside and stood up. The room spun for a second before settling. I hated headaches more than almost anything. Broken ribs? Fine. Bruised knuckles? Whatever. But this relentless skull-crushing pain? It made me want to curl up and die.
I should find my clothes in the office. Let him deal with the consequences of his own shitty choices. It was none of my business if he got caught.
I yanked the bedroom door open and stepped out into the main office in nothing but red underwear.
The office was exactly what I expected. It was cool, minimalist, and expensive. Dark furniture, shelves of files, a massive desk that screamed control freak. Nothing personal. No photos, no mess. Just Kian.
I took three steps inside when the outer door swung open.
I braced for Finn again.
It wasn’t Finn.
Kian filled the doorway, a jacket slung over one shoulder, hair slightly mussed like he had run his hands through it too many times. His eyes locked on me immediately. Narrowed. Darkened.
He stepped inside and shut the door with a controlled click that somehow sounded louder than a slam.
His gaze raked over me, before snapping back to my face.
“Did Finn see you like this?” His voice was low and dangerous.
I ground my teeth so hard my jaw ached.
He took one step closer. “ANSWER ME, FIANNA. DID FINN FUCKING SEE YOU IN YOUR UNDERWEAR?”
I flinched at his loud voice. Just a tiny flinch. But he saw it.
My heart was hammering again, but this time it wasn’t fear. It was rage. How dare he? How fucking dare he act like this after abandoning me?
He growled. “Answer. Me.”
I stayed silent. Let him stew. Let him feel what it was like to be ignored. His chest rose and fell faster. Murderous energy rolled off him in waves. I took a small step back. He followed. I retreated again. And again. Until my back hit the wall and there was nowhere left to go.
He caged me in without touching me at first. Then his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make my pulse jump under his palm.
“LET GO OF ME!,” I hissed. “FUCKING LET GO OF ME, SULLIVAN!!”
“Look at me,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “Did. Finn. See. You. Like. This?”
I stared straight into those stormy eyes. “Yes,” I lied, my voice steady. “Yes, Finn saw me like this. What are you gonna do about it?”
Something flickered across his face, something raw and wounded. His grip loosened just a fraction.
“Did he really?” he asked, quieter now. Almost… sad.
I didn’t answer.
Slowly, carefully, he released my throat and stepped back. Turned toward the door like he was about to go find Finn and break his face.
My eyes widened. “Stop! I lied okay?”
He froze, then turned back slowly. “Why the fuck would you lie about that?”
I threw my hands up, my voice cracking with frustration. “Maybe because it’s none of your goddamn business if Finn sees me in my underwear! Maybe because I’m sick of you acting like you own me while you fuck around behind my back! Maybe because we agreed to no interference! You do you, I do me!”
Tears burned behind my eyes. I refused to let them fall.
“Please,” I said, quieter now, “just let me be. Go do your thing. Fuck whoever you want. Just don’t get caught, because I want zero drama in my life. I have had enough.”
His jaw clenched so hard I thought I heard it crack.
“When the fuck did I sleep around?” he demanded. “When did I do that?”
I scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping me. “I expected a lot of things from you, Kian. But I didn’t expect you to be a coward. Why pretend? Finn told me. You left last night. To meet a girl. While I was passed out. While you had already stripped me naked. Real classy.”
“Stop it,” he growled.
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m done. I don’t want to see your face for a few days. I need space. And you—” I jabbed a finger at his chest “—are choking me with this possessive bullshit!”
In a blur he closed the distance again. Grabbed my wrists and dragged me toward the couch. Pushed me down onto the leather and caged me there with his body, his knees bracketing my hips, his hands planted on either side of my head.
I thrashed, slamming my palms against his chest. “Let me go!”
He didn’t budge. Just stared down at me, breathing hard, his eyes wild.
“Get. Off.”
“No,” he said, low and rough. “Not until you listen.”
“I’m done listening to you.”