by James, Lylah
Killian
“We found her,” Samuel said, walking into my room with a frown on his face and his jaw locked tight. “In the woods and she’s dead. Gunshot in the side of her head. It looks like suicide, there’s no other explanations. We didn’t find any other footprints in the dirt and there was no one else in the area.”
I remembered the scene so vividly. One second Julianna was bantering with me, and then I saw her. One of the maids – standing about ten feet away from the stables, gun in her hand, pointed at the back of my wife’s head.
Adrenaline still coursed through my body. Getting shot fucking hurt.
And Julianna could have seriously been injured.
Worst, she could have…died. That gunshot would have been fatal to her if I hadn’t gotten to her in time.
I didn’t know why that bothered me, when I could care less if she continued to breathe or not. But fuck, my body had acted against my will. The sudden and fierce need to protect her, I didn’t know where that came from. I blamed it on the adrenaline. I blamed it on the weakness of a moment.
Whether I loathed her or not, she was still my wife. Her name was attached to mine and people would question and whisper if she was found dead on the island while I was also here. Killian Spencer couldn’t save Julianna, they’d say behind my back.
Killian’s wife was assassinated in front of his own eyes, they’d whisper.
The common people would twist the story until the simple truths would become bitter lies. The high society would eat up the rumors and drag my name into the dirt.
The absolute look of lunacy on the maid’s face still flickered in my mind. I tried to sift through my memories, attempting to figure out if her face was familiar, if she was someone I knew – but I was drawing blanks.
The maid was nobody…
But why the fuck would she try to shoot Julianna?
And why suicide?
“I want every person on this island questioned,” I hissed, my wound burning like fucking acid had been poured onto my flesh. “And if words leave this island, if anyone else finds out about this, I will personally fire every single person in this place and I will make sure they never find a job anywhere else. Understood? Make it known. Warn everyone.”
Samuel’s brows furrowed. “Are you sure she didn’t try to shoot you? I mean, why Julianna? It’s possible she didn’t act on her own and was hired by someone else.”
“The gun was pointed at her; I saw it clearly. I wasn’t anywhere in range. I was behind Cerberus.”
Julianna had been the one in the open, vulnerable.
Goddamn it.
“Who the fuck tried to kill my wife and why?” I growled, fury burning through my veins. I was incensed.
“You seem awfully caring for someone who claims he hates his wife,” Samuel drawled, almost mockingly. He handed me a glass of water and I quickly gulped it down before handing the glass back to him.
“I hate her,” I said, reaffirming my feelings for Julianna.
Samuel raised an eyebrow in question. “Then why did you take a bullet for her?”
Samuel had been working for me for six years. He was my bodyguard – but not exactly. More like he just followed me everywhere. He was a friend and a foe sometimes, because while he didn’t usually question me, he also had a habit of speaking his mind without thinking of the consequences.
I was his boss, after all. But the bastard acted like he didn’t give a shit that I could easily fire him. Not that I wanted to. He was one the few people I actually trusted, but sometimes, he really got on my fucking nerves.
I held a hand over my injury, wincing only slightly as the wound burned. “Because she’s my wife.”
“I don’t get it. The more I try to understand your relationship with her, the more confused I become,” Samuel said, pulling his medical kit in front of him. “I’m gonna have to stitch you up without anesthesia.”
I unbuttoned my white shirt, that was now dirty and bloodied, to give Samuel access to my bullet wound. He was good at what he did, but this was going to hurt like a motherfucker without anesthesia.
Trying to distract myself while he got his stuff ready, I focused on his previous words. “Don’t try to understand mine and Julianna’s relationship. What we have is nothing short of destruction. That’s what we are together – pure chaos.”
My teeth ground together as Samuel removed the bullet and stitched the wound. I ignored the needle going through my flesh as the scene replayed in my head again.
“How’s Julianna?” I practically gritted out as he finished with the last stitch.
“She’s safe. Just shaken up a bit with some bruises and scrapes,” Samuel said with a sigh. “I already told you that; this is the third time you asked.”
“Her life is important to me.”
“Because your father–”
“Yes,” I barked. Samuel gave me a side-eye; he shrugged and closed his first-aid kit, after wrapping a bandage over the wound.
I balled my hands into fists and dragged the comforter over me. “Stop giving me that fucking look.”
He blinked innocently. “What did I do?”
My eyes started to droop and my vision blurred, my body growing weary. I could feel the sleep pulling me under, dragging me into unconsciousness.
My head snapped to Samuel and I cursed him and his stupid grin. “You fucking drugged me, asshole.”
“Sweet dreams,” he laughed.
CHAPTER TEN
Julianna
I woke up with a headache and my body was extremely sore, like I had been flung into a wall several times.
At first, I was confused.
Then, I was filled with dread as the memories came crashing into me.
Someone tried to shoot me; Killian saved me; he took a bullet for me; he was hurt.
Oh God. Who would someone try to kill me and why?
The island was supposed to be safe – it was, up until today.
A wretched sob escaped me and someone popped in front of my blurry vision, leaning over me. “Hey, little one. You’re awake. How are you feeling?” Gideon asked gently.
Panic threatened to seize me but I breathed, reminding myself to take small and deep breaths. I licked my lips and finally noticed that I was wearing my veil. I remembered now. Gideon had covered my face before Killian could see me and my scars.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice cracking.
“No need to thank me.” He waved a hand, dismissing my words. “How do you feel?”
“Sluggish,” I responded truthfully. “My head hurts and it feels like my whole body is sore. How’s Killian? Is he okay?”
He nodded in understanding. “He’s fine. Samuel was able to take the bullet out and Killian is sleeping right now. There’s nothing to worry about. But I’m worried about you.”
I swallowed and took in a shuddering breath. An invisible hand clutched my heart in its fist. “You know; you saw me,” I choked, my eyes growing teary. “I have no control over it.”
“You had a seizure, Julianna,” Gideon said softly. It felt like someone was pounding a hammer into the back of my head and blood rushed between my ears.
Gideon grasped my hand in his and he gave me a gentle squeeze. “I won’t ask y–”
“The first time it happened was when I was ten years old,” I spilled out, practically choking on the words. “I had sustained a brain injury after falling off my horse.”
His brows furrowed. “You have regular seizures?”
“Not exactly.” I shook my head. “I used to, and they would be really bad. But I take medication regularly. I can better control it now, but epilepsy can’t be cured. It was wired into me and my brain. The last time I had a seizure was a month before Killian came back to the Island. It was a smaller one, not as bad as today’s. Emily and Mirai know. And now you.”
Stress and uncontrollable emotions were major triggers for my seizures. Sometimes I could better control them, but once I lose grasp of that tight control or if I end
ed up missing my daily medications… my seizures could get really bad.
Before I came to this island, only a handful of people knew of my condition, including my father, sister and Selene. I didn’t see epilepsy as a horrible thing; it was part of my life and I had learned to accept it at a very young age – but it was difficult for my father.
He saw it as a weakness – one that could embarrass him. So, I confined at home, in my room, within my four walls.
My father didn’t want anyone to know of my condition, and when I was younger, it was harder to control when or where I had my seizures.
Stress triggered them, and unfortunately for me, I stressed easily. And I was also an emotional person.
So, I became Julianna – the forgotten daughter.
“Does he know?” Gideon asked, breaking through my thoughts.
“No,” I said too quickly. “Please, Killian can’t know.”
“I won’t tell him,” he promised. “It’s not my business to get between husband and wife.”
I cracked a small smile under my veil. “And yet you report back to William Spencer…”
Gideon let out a low chuckle, not taking my words to heart, and I was glad he didn’t. “He’s my boss and I have to do what he tells me to.”
I finally propped myself up against the pillow, in a somewhat seated position. “Are you sure Killian is okay?” I questioned, still feeling… guilty at the fact that he took that bullet for me. He didn’t have to; he hated me – then why?
He could have been seriously injured; it could have been fatal; he could have died.
The thought left a bitter aftertaste on my tongue and my stomach heaved almost brutally and I fought back the urge to throw up.
Maybe I was still in shock.
Gideon patted my hand. “He’s fine. Killian just needs to rest up for a few days.”
“Okay,” I murmured, closing my eyes because I didn’t have the strength to keep them open any longer.
My body was still weak and sluggish – but that was just a side effect of my seizure. I would also be sleepy for days, my brain mushy and slow. My body needed time to recuperate after such a stressful toll.
Unconsciousness dragged me deeper under, feeling sleepier than usual. Somewhere far away, I heard my door open and then close. Gideon must have left but I could barely move a limb. The last thought in my head before I passed out was…
Who would want me dead?
I limped down the corridor that led into Killian’s quarters. It was dark and eerily quiet, but I didn’t let that deter me from my mission. It was past midnight and I was hoping he was asleep; I just wanted to see him once.
Just to confirm he was okay.
I needed to see him.
He had been an asshole to me since the beginning, but I couldn’t exactly blame him when I was the villain in his story. And yet, Killian protected me when he didn’t have to.
I quietly opened his door, letting out a sigh of relief when I found it unlocked. Walking inside, I shut the door behind me and my eyes searched for Killian. The room was practically pitched black, with the exception of a dimly lit nightlamp.
I walked closer to the bed and found Killian sleeping in the middle of the mattress. The comforter was lazily thrown over his hips and he was bare-chested, except for the white bandage.
Dusty hair peppered his chest and stomach, leading up to a single trail along his sternum – the rest was hidden under the comforter. Killian wasn’t overly muscular; he was lean and built with wide shoulders and strong arms.
My gaze roved over his face. I took the time to admire his almost peaceful, sleeping face. Killian had defined cheekbones and three days’ worth of dark stubble peppered his cheeks and sharp jaw. His Roman nose was slightly crooked and I knew he must have broken it at least once during his younger days. A few strands of his dark hair fell over his forehead and my fingers itched to brush them away.
Killian just looked so… peaceful, that I wanted to drink in the image of him and sear it into my brain, so I could carry it with me forever. There was no rage, no hatred simmering in his dark eyes and no insulting words spitting from his full lips.
His abs clenched as he sucked in a pained breath and his brows furrowed in his sleep.
I slowly lowered myself beside him on the bed, careful not to wake him up. My fingers brushed over the lines on his forehead and the deep frown between his eyebrows, smoothing them out. His lips parted and he released a soft sigh, still very much asleep.
“I came into your life, bringing tragedy with me,” I whispered. “Love can kill while still keeping you alive to feel it. How deadly it is, how painful, how cruel.”
My touch feathered over his cheek, running along his jaw. “If I could go back to change the past… I would have never willing inserted myself into your life, if I knew our story would be filled with such venom. Our beginning was stained and our future is broken.”
His lips twitched and he shifted in his sleep. I felt brave when I touched his lips, feeling their softness under my fingertips. I gasped when his arm snaked around and his fingers circled my wrist. My eyes collided with his sleepy ones, looking slightly confused and still very much lost in the world between awake and consciousness.
“Killian,” I breathed, the pressure on my chest growing heavier.
He searched my eyes, before tugging me forward. It happened fast, even for someone half-asleep. Killian rolled over until I was under him, and he groaned in pain, his forehead dropping to mine.
My pins had come undone and my veil shifted, dipping below my neck and exposing my scarred face to Killian.
But it was dark enough he couldn’t see the ugly, mangled flesh. That was the only reason why panic didn’t seize me, why I didn’t rush to cover my face.
Darkness shrouded us. Killian was barely conscious… this was my secret.
His gaze fell to my lips, and he lingered there for a second too long, his eyelids hooded. His harsh breath fanned over my mouth and gooseflesh peppered my skin. Sweat broke between his brows and I could see the shadow of pain on his handsome face.
“Killian.” His name echoed from my lips.
He released a shuddering breath and then he did the one thing I didn’t expect him to do. His nose brushed against my unmarred cheek and along the length of my jaw. Killian nuzzled me, his lips caressing my skin like the softest feather.
I trembled, warmth pooling in my belly. He lowered his body over mine and I didn’t have any choice but to accept his weight on me. My legs fell open and he settled between the cradle of my thighs. We were chest to chest, hips to hips, all of his hardness against my softness.
Oh God.
I didn’t come here for this…
But now, I wanted it.
The way his body pinned mine into the mattress, his breath on my skin, his lips whispering over my jaw with the gentleness of a lover’s touch.
I want it.
No, that was a lie.
I need it.
When he leaned down to my mouth, my eyes fluttered closed. I needed this more than I needed salvation. More than I desired redemption.
Killian took my lips, stole my breath from my lungs and swallowed my whimper as I gave myself to him. He drove his tongue into my mouth, tasting me, licking me from the inside. My tongue met his in a tentative dance and I wanted to sob.
My fingers curled into his dark hair and I cried into the kiss. The man who hated me with such cruelty was kissing me so… tenderly. Almost affectionately. Like I was a fragile treasure in his arms and he wanted to savor me.
I cried because I knew…
Killian wasn’t kissing me.
He was kissing the woman in his dreams, a ghost of his past.
I knew that, but I still kissed him back.
I stole his kisses because I was greedy and selfish.
So I took the kisses that didn’t belong to me because I was intoxicated by Killian. Drunk on him. Ravenous for the way his lips moved against mine; the way his tongue f
elt on mine, plunging into my mouth, wet and needy.
I wanted to break under his touch.
To feel powerless against his kisses.
To surrender under his body.
To forget the lies and the secrets, for my truth had ruined us enough.
Killian let out a pained groan and our lips separated. I inhaled a deep breath when he slumped over my body, the strength leaving him, and he sunk into unconsciousness again. His face was buried in my throat and I felt his breath on my skin, warm and soft.
Such a sweet fantasy but also a cruel reality.
Killian and I were an unfinished story, with no happy ending in sight. For we were more than a tragedy. We were an impending calamity; we were nothing but ugly together, wreaking havoc on our own souls. With our bare hands.
“I’m sorry.” The walls and the ghosts of this castle heard my whisper, my pain seeping through those two simple words.
The secrets that were buried with my sister were catching up to me, quickly. The lies I had webbed around us were crumbling.
Because my truth was that…
I fell in love with Killian Spencer when I was seventeen years old.
But I only ended up killing his heart.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Killian
“Should you be out of bed?” Julianna asked, finally breaking through the tension. Our forks and knives against our plates had been the only sound echoing through the walls of the dining hall for the last five minutes.
I took a slow sip of the champagne, Dom Perignon Rose Gold. My tongue tasted the layers of sweetness, and then tartness with one single sip, tantalizing to my tastebuds like I expected any expensive champagne to be. “Dinner every night, for thirty nights. That was your compromise,” I said, placing my champagne flute back on the table.
This morning Julianna and I spoke about the damage that took place last night. She told me that she didn’t have any personal enemies and she truly didn’t know why someone would try to kill her. None of it made sense.
I thought maybe it could be an enemy of Bishop Romano or maybe an enemy of the Spencer’s, but to so foolishly try and attack Julianna in plain sight? None of our enemies would be so stupid to do so. They were more… sophisticated than that.