Her breathing was shallow, shaky, her entire body trembling as though she might break apart at the slightest touch. Kieran's hands framed her face, his thumbs brushing away the dampness of her tears, though they kept spilling faster than he could wipe them. His chest constricted at the sight of her swollen eyes, her trembling lips, the hollow grief in her expression.
"Alena…" his voice cracked, low and pleading. "What happened? What's bothering you?"
Her lashes fluttered, and finally her eyes lifted to his. The bloodshot redness, the shimmering tears, it was more than words could ever explain. Kieran swallowed hard, forcing his voice to stay steady.
"Don't hide anything from me." He pleaded, "Please. Tell me what's hurting you."
Her lips trembled as if the words were too heavy to leave her mouth. A broken whisper slipped out. "I can't have the future you promised me. My past—" her voice shook, her shoulders trembling, "My past will never let me. It will always come back to destroy me."
Kieran's heart twisted painfully. He brushed her hair back tenderly, pressing his forehead against hers. "Who?" he breathed. "Who's haunting you, Alena? Just tell me. Don't carry this alone."
The silence stretched, and then, like a wound reopening, her lips quivered around the truth. it came almost like a whisper,
"Jessi's father…"
Kieran stilled. His blood ran hot, every muscle in his body tightening. He wanted to roar, smash, destroy, but he forced himself to listen, to let her speak.
"I was eighteen," Alena's voice cracked as the words poured out in broken fragments, "Madam Rosa… she brought him to me. At first, he was kind. Sweet even. But day by day, his actions became… darker. Twisted. Horrifying. I was young, Kieran. I was scared. I obeyed him. I obeyed everything he asked me to do."
Her sobs shook her thin frame. "He groomed me. He… took advantage of me. I didn't even understand what he was doing at the time. I just knew that if I didn't listen, something worse would happen. So I obeyed. And he—" her voice broke into jagged shards "—he did all the disgusting things you can ever imagine. Things I can't even say aloud."
Kieran's hands tightened on her arms, his jaw locking so hard it hurt. He wanted to kill. He wanted to rip that person alive and send him to hell. But she kept speaking, forcing herself through the shame.
She pulled back from his hold, staring at him with hollow, bloodshot eyes. Her words spilled like poison she couldn't hold in anymore.
"I'm disgusting, Kieran." Her voice was sharp, hysterical, dripping with self-loathing. "I'm dirty. I'm not worthy of living. Don't associate yourself with me. I'll bring disgrace to you if you stay close. I'm just a disgusting bitc—"
Before she could finish, Kieran crushed his lips against hers.
Her body stilled in shock. He didn't move his lips, didn't kiss her in hunger; he only pressed against her firmly, desperately, sealing her poisonous words inside before they could wound her further. Tears fell from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks as he held her face between his hands.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his breath shaky. His voice was broken yet unshakably certain. "Don't you dare say that to yourself again. Ever."
She blinked at him, stunned, as he whispered fiercely, "You are not dirty. You are not disgusting. You are pure. You are heaven. You are a blessing." His voice cracked, but he didn't stop. "To me, you are as pure as a goddess. Holy. Sacred. Do you hear me, Alena? You are Sancta to me. My Sancta."
Her lips parted, trembling, but no sound came out. She was speechless, lost in the intensity of his words. His eyes were wet, blazing with anger yet vulnerable in a way that made her skin prickle.
"If anyone dares to mess with you," his tone dropped, low and dangerous, "I swear to God, I will rip that person apart and send him to hell." His bloodshot eyes glowed with fury, his jaw tight.
"You're mine, Alena," he growled, every syllable carved with promise. "And anyone who dares to mess with you will have to cross me first. Nobody... nobody... has the right to say a single word against you. Do you understand? You are my angel. My everything. The only thing I ever asked God for."
The words struck her like thunder. She had never seen him like this, both broken and blazing, protective yet trembling with emotion. Her skin rose in goosebumps, her chest tightening with something she couldn't name.
Her lips moved, trying to form words, but before she could, he pressed a finger gently against them. "Shhh. Don't. If you're about to speak badly of yourself again, don't." His eyes softened as he silenced her. "Never again."
Her breath hitched as he pulled her into his embrace once more, wrapping her so tightly in his arms she felt as though nothing could ever hurt her again. He pressed kiss after kiss to her temple, her hair, her temple. Each kiss was a vow that he would protect her no matter what. His voice was hushed but steady.
"Don't let anyone's words hurt you. If anyone tries to dig up your past, tell me. I'll make sure they never do it again. Ever."
She sobbed into his chest, but for the first time in years, the tears carried a sliver of release. He held her through every shake of her body, every broken cry. His hand stroked her back in steady rhythms until her trembling began to ease.
He called the cook, "Peter."
"Yes, sir," came the reply from the other side of the call.
"Send dinner to Alena's room."
"Yes, sir."
Not long after, a servant brought in a tray of food, setting it silently on the nightstand before leaving without a glance.
Kieran guided Alena gently to sit, picking up the spoon himself. "Eat," he said softly.
Her lips parted to refuse, but he didn't let her. "For me."
She obeyed. Spoon by spoon, he fed her. She ate slowly, silently, tears still lingering on her lashes, but she didn't resist him. When she was done, he gave her the medicine, then pulled her back into his chest. He stroked her hair, his palm warm and steady against her back, patting softly until her exhausted body finally surrendered to sleep in his arms.
When her breathing deepened and her face softened, he carefully laid her head on the pillow and tucked the blanket around her. His lips pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
But when he turned, his gaze fell on her phone lying broken at the edge of the bed. His jaw tightened. He picked it up, unlocking it with ease.
As he scrolled, his eyes darkened. Each disgusting message, each absurd video, each obscene image from Jessi's father crawled across the screen. His blood boiled. His veins throbbed with rage.
The demon inside him awoke.
He dialed Aiden. His voice was low, firm. "Aiden"
"Yes, boss."
"Get the men ready," he said coldly, his voice like sharpened steel. "We have a piece of filth to erase."