𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈

~Confessions~

-"When you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off knives,"-

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He was oblivious to all the women drooling over him with seductive eyes or the men that backed away or who stood up straighter, feeling intimidated.

The all-black suit clung to his body like it was made only for him. It accentuated every edge and curve of his defined brawn. Every part of him was carefully sculpted, making him like a Greek god. The dark tattoos peeking out from his neck and hands add to the deadly and malignant aura.

His glass-cutting jawline was clean-shaven, just the way she liked it.

His glowy tanned, Italian skin had not a single flaw or imperfection. His riotous gray eyes stormed with unknown emotions as he looked at the only person that held his undivided attention.

Those damn eyes fucked her over since the first time she gave in to the attraction.

The face she knew was going to be the last thing that they saw before they fell into the darkness as he stared into the souls of many, picking out flaws and weaknesses.

He enticed everyone, captivating the eyes of all. The intriguing yet charming atmosphere that he bestowed.

While most tried to stare secretly behind their champagne glasses, others stared shamelessly with their deviating eyes at her. When Luca had the strength to look away from the entrancing woman, he was filled with rage at the men who looked at her with their wicked thoughts.

But their attention was caught when the auctioneer showed off a painting that was most likely a fraudulent and fake piece.

Rich people's greed is like nothing in this world and can be easily manipulated for their own selfish needs. Once they spot a new toy that they can't have, they throw tantrums like children. But they forget about the toy when something else-new and shiny- catches their attention.

She walked over to them, ignoring some persistent stares. She didn't waste time partnering with each other to secure the area. Starr pinned her phone to vibrate whenever Ryan arrived.

And of course, Luca insisted on going with her. As they walked, Luca couldn't help but think about how she now knew everything about him, but he didn't know much about her except for her habits, likes, and dislikes.

But he didn't really know her.

"I know nothing about you," he told her. She hooked arms with him, holding onto his bicep.

"You know I can't tell you much," she sighed, knowing it was not safe for him if he found out too much.

He rolled his eyes knowing it was the King's order that kept her so secretive, but he had a secret motivation and urge to find out the truth and identity of the most dangerous man on the planet.

"You don't have to tell me everything. 5 things. Just 5 confessions and I will be satisfied," he requested. It sounded like a pretty good deal but Midnight wondered if he could handle her truths.

"It's not good," she monotoned, recognizing all of her flaws. He kissed her cheek as they walked through the halls, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

"I never asked for good, Diavola," he whispered as he turned her around to face him. He stroked her exposed thigh while the other brushed over her cheek.

"You'll get angry by the 2nd one," she uttered trying to find an ounce of hesitation in him but she couldn't. He was not backing down.

"I won't," he denied. She knew that was a lie.

"Promise?" she pressed.

"Promise," he reassured. She hooked onto his arm again and continued to walk getting ready to reveal her biggest insecurities.

"I had not been with anyone but you except for one person in my life. So you were my first in 10 years," she admitted. He felt an overwhelming amount of emotion he couldn't explain all at once. He couldn't stop the fuzzy feeling in his heart at the realization that she trusted him enough to be her first in the last decade.

But he felt slightly wary of the previous guy she was with. Either she loved him way too much to be with another or he hurt her too badly to the point where she lost all trust.

"No one has really ever taken care of me. I was always the one taking care of everyone else," she simpered a smile that didn't reach her eyes or show the dimples that he loved so much. His head turned in her direction.

He felt his heart sink. The question of how no one could not take care of her admirable and charming self made his jaw tick. He had never felt so agitated with the world.

"I tried to commit too," she gulped. His breath got caught in his throat and he found the room to be warmer.

He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand not only to soothe her but calm himself in the process.

But the confessions were going to get a lot worse.

"I have to take sleeping pills," she spoke, trying not to look at his face.

He had this motivation to have her with him every second of the day and now he knew that the feeling was right to be present.

"I was fourteen when I uh...when I got the brand," she gulped, speaking quietly and ashamed of her past.

A tidal wave of insecurities hit her like a bus. She thought he could have a perfect girl that had no baggage at all but instead, he settled for damaged goods. She looked at the marble tile, self-conscious. The pit in her stomach grew and she released a shaky breath in shame.

She thought he could do so much better than her.

But years and years of severe anxiety, depression, abuse, and sleeping disorders broke her.

No other words could put it better...

She was just utterly...completely...broken.

The second he heard those words come out of her mouth he led her away into a private hall where no lingering eyes could stalk them.

His body was stiff as a stone, his expression hard and grim with a dangerous scowl, and every muscle in his body bulging and flexing from underneath his suit.

Fourteen.

His Diavola was just a girl. So young.

So harmless and innocent to the world.

Who was sick enough -so twisted- to have done that to her? He was going to kill them. Kill the King for doing that to a young girl. A young girl that was now greatly affected by the past.

Fourteen -he couldn't even fathom it. He was sick to his stomach but so angry. Angry at the world. Angry at humanity.

He held her arms, softly and gently, careful not to hurt her. His hand gripped her thigh from her leg-slit while the other was against the wall on the side of her face.

He pressed his muscular body up against her small frame as he towered over her, his lips just above her head. His body began to shake with rage. He couldn't get her words out of his head.

Fourteen.

She had been fourteen when someone had held her down and dug a knife into her. Her screams -God, he could hear her screams. Feel her pain.

Before he could say anything, her phone started vibrating signaling that it was now or never to make their move. She quickly got out of his hold, making his body rage in possessiveness.

After hitting the wall behind where she previously was, he walked back out to the crowd with a lethal and intimidating scowl on his face.

This was not going to end well...

~

(A/N): Hello everyone!

How's the book so far?

Prepare yourselves for the next chapter because it's going to get a little...intense...if you know what I mean ;)

Have a good/day/night! Love you all!