Page 2 of Beautifully Damned (Sinful Fates #2)

Ayla

The night stretches, long and heavy, but sleep doesn’t come. I’m tangled up in my sheets, twisting and turning. Is Ace still breathing? Did Roman really shoot him?

Growing up in the mafia, I’ve always been taught that strength means everything.

But I never learned how to be steady or strong the way they expect.

Instead, when panic hits, my body locks up.

I don’t have fight or flight. I have freeze or flight.

I hate it. I grew up watching things blow up around me, hearing threats, seeing rage. And yet, I never got used to it.

I throw off the covers and slide out of bed, not standing to try to sleep with a guilty conscience.

I grab the first thing I can find — a long pink dress that ends at my ankles — and pull it on quickly.

Sneaking out has never been a thing for me.

Not parties as a teenager or to go meet boys; my conservative Turkish father would have had an aneurysm.

The first time I sneak out, it’s because of a horse.

I don’t understand myself sometimes. But I just need to know if he’s okay.

The house is quiet. My mother’s asleep; she always takes her sleeping pills at ten. Baba’s still out. One at a time, I take the stairs. My fingers graze the wall as I go, counting each step in my head just to keep my nerves from getting too loud.

Then I bump into a chest, but I don’t startle, because it’s familiar. One of the few people in my life I feel safe with.

“Emir,” I whisper. He smells like clean soap and leather, always the same. I’ve known that smell since we were children, and when we got older, he took the position of being my bodyguard.

“Where are you off to?” He grumbles at me like I do this every day, which I certainly don’t.

“Somewhere,” I mutter, trying to squeeze past him.

He rubs a hand down his face. “Did you run out of pads again? I told you, you don’t have to sneak out to get them. Just text me. I’ll grab whatever you need, Ayla.”

I smack his arm as my face turns red. “Shut up.”

“It’s not a big deal. You act like I haven’t known you when you were a hormonal teenager.”

I groan, trying to hide the heat crawling up my neck. “I couldn’t sleep, okay?”

His teasing fades. “Why?”

I hesitate. “There’s a horse at the stable. He’s hurt. Badly. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Emir reaches out and brushes a piece of hair from my face. “You sure this is about the horse?”

I nod quickly. Too quickly. I don’t tell him about Roman. About the gun. If I say it out loud, I’ll freeze again. Better to believe it was a fluke. A strange, terrible fluke.

“I just need to see him.”

“Ayla…”

I widen my eyes, pouting a little.

“No.”

I pout harder. “Please? I’ll be quick.”

“Your father will kill me if he finds out I let you out at three AM. Literally. Kill. Me.”

“He won’t find out,” I promise. “You can hover the whole time and complain. It’ll be fun.”

He grumbles a prayer under his breath. Then: “Five minutes. And if you get me castrated, you’re marrying me because no other woman on the planet will.”

I scrunch my nose at the thought of marrying a man I consider a brother, but I know he’s just joking, and I’m already pulling the door open. “Deal.”

***

When we arrive, it’s pitch dark and half-silent except for the occasional shuffle of hooves or the soft creak of wood in the wind.

Emir’s footsteps crunch behind me. “You said five minutes.”

“We’ve been out here for three,” I hiss back.

“You counted?”

“Of course.”

He huffs something that sounds vaguely like you’re impossible, but he keeps following.

The moment I step inside, my chest tightens in anticipation. Will Ace be there? Will he not? The air smells like hay, cold sweat, and damp earth. I run down the row of stalls. The others glance at me sleepily with their ears flicking and tails twitching, but I don’t stop until I find him.

He’s standing, barely, but standing, guarding his injured leg. I blink fast, but the tears still sting as I rush to coddle him.

Ace snorts and turns his head, not nuzzling me like usual.

“Okay. I deserve that.” I reach out, brushing my hand over his neck. “I’m sorry I ran. I didn’t know what to do.”

His body shifts like he wants to walk away, but the leg won’t let him. Sometimes I swear he’s a human in a horse’s body.

“But I came back,” I whisper, trying to defend my case to this horse. I need to get my head checked.

Behind me, Emir hasn't said a word. Which is… weird. Normally, he'd bully me for talking to animals like a bad recasting of Snow White, but I haven’t heard a peep out of him. Maybe he’ll actually listen to my psychotic plan.

“I’m thinking of releasing him,” I say softly. “Into the woods, I mean. We could bring food. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s not like anyone here cares if he lives or dies. They are going to put him down sooner rather than later. At least out there, he has a chance.”

Still nothing. Huh? Is he ignoring me? I glance sideways to check if he’s okay. But he isn’t there. I turn around fully, the air suddenly colder than it was a second ago. My heart skips.

“Emir?” I call out. Something is really, really wrong . Emir would never leave me here alone.

Heaving footsteps come from the pitch black, and they confirm my fears. My spine stiffens. A figure emerges from the dark. Roman. His eyes find mine before the rest of his huge frame fully steps into the moonlight.

No. No, no, no.

This has to be a nightmare. I must be still curled in bed, sweating, dreaming up monsters with guns and eyes that look through me instead of at me. But I’m not dreaming. My fingers are still tangled in Ace’s mane. The chill of the air is real. And Emir is nowhere to be found.

Roman steps closer. I back up instinctively, only to realize there’s nowhere left to go. My spine hits the barn wall, some splinters digging into my skin through my dress.

His gaze trails over me slowly. Not in that lustful, hungry way I’ve seen from men at my father’s parties—but in the way a predator might look at prey.

And I feel like prey right now, sweat soaking through my dress, nerves fraying, and my lips raw from biting them.

He leans in just slightly, close enough that I can feel his breath when he finally speaks.

“Little lamb,” he murmurs, “got caught between the wolf’s teeth.”