A Chance in the Night. Kimberly Meter Van

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      Something told him sleep would find her sooner than it would him.

      SKYE AWOKE TO A PARADE of pain. Her rib was most certainly broken on her left side. Early morning shafts of sunlight streamed into the loft, bathing everything in a soft creamy light that would’ve been beautiful if she hadn’t been sucking back tears at the agony in her body. Just breathing took effort.

      As she slowly took stock of her situation, she remembered the details from the night. That corpulent pig—Carlton Essex III—had done this to her. She’d been unable to get to her phone or her pepper spray. And Carlton had been unconcerned by the threat of displeasing Belleni. In that the man was an idiot. Belleni was vicious when crossed.

      Her gaze slid over to the sofa where soft snoring sounded. She rolled to her uninjured side, nearly crying out at the bite of pain, and slowly stood. She spied her clutch and the remains of her Anna Sui sheath. She grabbed the clutch but left the dress and made her way to the door. The man—she didn’t even known his name—didn’t stir even as she padded slowly to the door. She regretted leaving like this after he’d taken her in but Belleni was probably turning the city upside down looking for her and she’d rather not repay the man’s kindness by dragging him further into the mess that was her life. There was also her mangled pride in her reasoning, as well. How could she adequately express her gratitude to someone for saving her from someone she’d been paid to service? Shame twisted her guts in a knot and she slipped from the loft with only the hope that karma would find the man still sleeping and repay him appropriately for his kindness.

      God knew she couldn’t.

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHRISTIAN WOKE WITH A SNAP of his eyes, knowing without having to look that she was gone. Still, he rose and swore under his breath when he confirmed the suspicion. This was good, he told himself when irritation followed at the knowledge she’d snuck out while he slept. Now he didn’t have to deal with the inevitable awkwardness of the morning after, not the typical morning after mind you, but it would have been weird considering what had happened.

      He walked to his bed and saw that she’d taken her little purse but left her dress behind. He lifted the ruined mess from the floor and her scent wafted from the material. The dress was cool against his fingers as he replayed the scenario from last night in his head. Questions nagged at him but he resigned himself to letting them go. She was gone. It was probably better this way. Christian tossed the dress into the trash, noting with wry humor, that scrap of silk had material that probably cost more than some people saw in a month’s wages. And now it was in his trash. Somehow that seemed sadly metaphoric. His brothers had always accused him of having the heart of a poet. Seems they weren’t wrong. Damn.

      He sighed and headed for the shower and hoped for a day that was devoid of mystery women, their questionable choices in life and rich, well-dressed pricks.

      SKYE SANK LOWER IN THE HOT water, the details from the night too fresh in her mind, and closed her eyes. Steam rose and drifted from her body as she allowed the heat to soak into her bones.

      A tear slipped down her cheek and she winced as the pain reminded her of what had gone down only hours before.

      Some men were rutting bastards who found excitement in the pain of others. She swallowed and wiped away the tear. He’d done more than leave just bruises. She touched the swollen flesh of her upper lip and winced. The doctor Belleni kept on the payroll confirmed the broken rib and gave her some painkillers with the advice to rest.

      “He will not touch you again,” a voice at the door vowed, making her tense beneath the water. She opened her eyes to see Belleni standing in the doorway, gazing at her body as if he had the right. “The man was a pig but no worries, darling, he has enjoyed his last Belleni girl, I assure you.”

      She slid the washcloth over her breasts as a slow, quiet rage percolated in her chest at the liberties he took just because he believed she belonged to him. “I want to be alone, Belleni,” she said, hating the way his gaze roamed her nakedness, resting on areas that belonged to no man, least of all him. But even as she burned to tell him to get the hell out of her life, she was held captive by a past she couldn’t change.

      Instead of complying with the curt response, he settled himself at the edge of the bathtub with an indulgent smile. He was a good-looking older man with an air of experience that was misleading in its seeming benevolence. Even as she loathed him, sometimes it was hard to separate her tangled feelings, for Nico was his spitting image and she adored her son with single-minded focus. She chose to keep her attention away from his roving stare for fear of her tongue getting the best of her. Still, she fairly vibrated with the tempest raging inside her over her inability to extricate herself and Nico from Belleni’s sphere of influence and she didn’t trust what might fly from her mouth.

      “You are angry,” he surmised, his Italian accent smooth as fine liquor, his touch deceptively gentle on her cheek. She pulled away and he sighed. “Of course, you are. And you have every right to be. I should’ve listened to my instincts, no matter the hefty weight of his bank account. Can you forgive me, my love?” he asked, his gaze softening with an emotion Skye knew didn’t exist in his world. She choked down the bitterness stuck in her throat and nodded but the effort nearly killed her. Belleni smiled. “Good. But I must make amends to my best girl. While you heal I shall see to it that you want for nothing. You will have the best of care. Name it and you shall have it. But first, tell me how you managed to get away from this brute? Vincent said you didn’t call him for help.”

      She wouldn’t give up her kind stranger. She wished she’d gotten his name but she recognized that it was better this way. She would likely never see him again as she planned to avoid Martini from here on out after the whole experience. Still, she found herself thinking of him and his kindness to her when she shouldn’t be thinking of him at all. “I sprayed him with pepper spray,” she lied. “Then I called a cab and came here.”

      He eyed her with faint suspicion. She held her breath as more questions built behind his speculative stare. “What are you going to do to him?” she asked, hoping to distract Belleni from his current train of thought.

      Belleni waved away her question. “The details are unnecessary for you to know at this point. Just take me at my word that he will pay for his insult. Now name your desire, my love, and I will see to it personally.”

      She knew he awaited her gratitude but she couldn’t make herself utter the words. He expected her to thank him for taking care of her when he was the one who had set her up with that monster? It was his fault her lip was split and her eye was blackened. Her breasts were marked with bruises from where the man had squeezed so hard tears sprang to her eyes at the memory. Her neck still bore the finger marks from where he tried to choke her to death. He hadn’t been interested in straight sex. No, he’d wanted to hurt and because he’d paid a good sum for her services, he’d believed he could do what he wanted with her. And he nearly had. Belleni heaved a sad sigh and rose from the tub’s edge. “It pains me to see you so abused. I will make this up to you, my darling,” he promised.

      She stared at the tips of her toes as they peeked from the water’s edge where she rested her feet against the water spigot. “You mean it?” she asked softly.

      “Of course, what do you desire and I will make it yours,” he said.

      “I want Nico home with me.” She turned and met his gaze with her one eye that wasn’t impeded by swollen tissue and said, “He shouldn’t live with you and Vivian. He should live with his mother.”

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