Chapter 7 Boundaries and Lines Crossed
Sterling’s POV
When morning cracks open, I wake feeling like I’ve been dragged through hell. The cheap light leaking into my room at The Rosemeade only makes everything worse. I’d barely checked in last night before tearing through the minibar, pouring whiskey down my throat to numb the ache. I still can’t believe Valentina would do this to me.
Maybe I should have just cheated first-she never would have known. But the moment I realized she’d slept with another man, something inside me snapped. Some faceless guy she found at a club, probably. The way she looked walking out last night-God, she was all curves and fire. I almost went after her, almost begged her not to leave. But I told myself she just needed space to cool off, to burn out her anger and come home to me.
I never imagined she’d stay out all night, let alone return looking satisfied, as if she had the time of her life. I told myself she’d come crawling back in an hour, missing me, wanting to make up. Instead, everything shattered. I crossed a line I’d sworn never to cross. I lost my grip and put my hands on her- something I never thought I’d do.
But she’ll forgive me. She always does when I lose my temper. I’ve never hit her before. This isn’t us. We can work through this. Where is she going to go, anyway? Her dad barely scrapes by in a one- bedroom on the wrong side of town, and God only knows where Giuliana holes up. I’ve always hated that woman-always whispering poison in Valentina’s ear, trying to turn her against me.
I pull out my phone for what feels like the hundredth time, searching for a sign-something, anything from Valentina. But there’s nothing. No missed calls. No messages. Just silence pressing in from all
sides.
Finally, I type out a message:
Don’t cook dinner tonight, I’ll pick up food on my way home. I love you.
I hit send, hoping the words carry enough apology, enough softness to make up for the chaos. I never meant for things to go so far. I never meant for her to walk out.
With a heavy sigh, I slip the phone back into my pocket and stare at the ceiling. I need this day to end. I need her to come back. I need everything to go back to the way it was-before I ruined it.
*****
Killian’s POV
I lose count of how many times I check my phone today, every glance making me feel like some pathetic, lovesick fool. Three messages to Valentina, zero replies. I tell her I’m thinking about her- something I never say. I tell her to wear a dress, and nothing underneath, because I have plans for us tonight. Two hours after that, I ask if we’re still on. Nothing. By now it’s nearly eight, and I’m sitting at the club bar, swirling whiskey, debating whether to show up at her apartment or just admit she’s ghosting me.
A heavy hand claps my back. I glance over and see Blaise sliding onto the stool beside me. Tricks, the prospect, drops off a beer for him.
“What’s got you scowling like you’re ready to tear the walls down?” Blaise asks, taking a long pull from
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the bottle.
I grunt. “Remember last night, when you said someday a woman might come along who balances my crazy?”
He nods, lips twitching. “Vaguely.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Gia’s sister. She blew my fucking mind last night. When she pulled that knife on Ramsey, I swear something snapped. I might be halfway in love already.”
Blaise’s booming laugh makes my fists clench. “Knock it off, man. I don’t need this getting out.”
He grins, shaking his head. “You’re not in love. You’re obsessed. Hell, the whole club is. A couple of the guys can’t stop talking about her-especially after she threw that knife at the bar.”
My eyes narrow. “They better stay away if they know what’s good for them. She’s mine.”
Blaise’s eyebrows shoot up, and there’s something almost like pride in his gaze.
I lean forward, elbows on the bar. “We’re supposed to meet tonight, but she hasn’t answered all day.”
Before he can reply, his phone goes off. I watch his posture change, every muscle tensing as he listens.
“You take as much time as you need, Gia. Two weeks paid leave to start. If you need more, you let me know. Anything at all, you call me. Got it, sweetheart. Bye now.” He hangs up, face carved with worry.
I stare at him. “What?”
Blaise sets the phone down. “Valentina’s at Willowmere Hospital. Been there all day. Gia says she was attacked. It’s bad. She’s bruised, internal bleeding, and…” He pauses, jaw tight. “They did a rape kit.”
My world narrows to a pinpoint. I’m up and out of my seat before the words really register, heart hammering, rage boiling over. I’m already on my bike, wind tearing at my face, flying through the night to get to her. Someone hurt my girl. Someone’s going to pay.
The hospital’s a blur-neon, linoleum, the antiseptic sting of fear. I shove through the doors, barely slowing at the nurses’ station before I hear my name. Gia is there, her face streaked with exhaustion and anger. She falls into my arms.
“What happened, Gia?”
She’s shaking. “I don’t know. I went to pick her up for breakfast with Papa, and she wasn’t outside. Went up, let myself in, found her on the floor, naked, covered in blood, bruises everywhere.” Her voice cracks. “Doctor says she’s got internal bleeding. They took out her spleen. All her ribs on the left side are cracked. Nose is broken. Cheekbone’s fractured. She’s got a concussion. Cops found a bat with her blood on it. Sterling’s short bat. I don’t know where he is. Don’t even know if it was him-Valentina would have fought back.”
A twisted smile tugs at my lips, despite everything.
Gia pulls back, eyes wet but sharp. “You look decent, Killian.”
I glance down at my jeans, biker boots, pale blue polo, and cut. “Valentina and I had a date planned.”
She raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Trying to make my sister your girl?”
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I snort. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. She has a boyfriend. But I spent one night with her, and she’s got me twisted up inside. I’m supposed to be the badass here.”
Gia chuckles, something warmer in her voice. “Between you and me? I like you better than Sterling. I never trusted him. I see how you are at the club-you’re wild, but you don’t treat women like shit. You’re a loner, just like Slate.”
I smirk. “I saw you wink at him last night. You got a thing for Slate?”
She grins, color blooming in her cheeks. “I do. Come on, let’s get some coffee for Papa. I’ll take you to see her.”
We head to a late-night coffee shop-hospital coffee is crap-and come back with three cups. I follow
Gia down the long hall, heart thudding as we step into Valentina’s room.
She’s there, fragile and fierce even under the fluorescent lights, hooked up to machines. I set my coffee aside and cross to her, brushing her hair back, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“Jesus, Valentina. My poor angel,” I whisper, voice rough with everything I can’t say.
A voice cuts through the quiet.
“Who are you?”
I turn. There’s an older man in a charcoal suit, white shirt crisp, shoes polished. His hair is salt and pepper, slicked back. The kind of man who could order a killing and never flinch.
“Papa,” Gia starts, but he lifts a hand and she falls silent.
“I’m Killian. Friend of Gia and Valentina’s.”
He eyes me, voice thick with old-country Italian. “What kind of name is Killian? How do you know my daughters?”
Gia glances at me, face pale.
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“It’s my road name. I’m Fixer for the Steel Furies. Gia works for the club. I met Valentina when she came to visit.”
Papa’s eyes turn cold. He launches into rapid-fire Italian, tearing into Gia with a father’s fury. She stands her ground, face burning, hands clenched. I turn away, give them privacy, and pull up a chair beside Valentina. I take her hand in both of mine, bring it to my lips, and kiss her knuckles again and again, trying to will her back to me.
Papa fixes me with a glare. “Do you think you should be holding the hand of another man’s woman?”
I meet his gaze, unblinking. “I don’t see that man here. Do you?”
“He’s right, Papa. I’ve had Valentina’s phone all day. Sterling only sent one message, said he’d bring dinner. I would’ve messaged him, but I don’t know if he did this. I don’t trust him.”
Papa sighs, voice raw. “I never liked that boy. Not since he started sniffing around your sister at sixte en.”
Gia looks stunned. “You knew?”
“Of course. I always had you two watched. If I’d done the same for your mother, maybe…” He stops, head bowed.
“Papa, don’t,” Gia whispers.
There’s a story in that silence-a family history written in blood and secrets. I realize I know nothing about these women, but I swear that’s going to change. I just need Valentina to open her eyes, to wake up and give me a chance to fight for her.
