Page 57 of Deviant Knight (Knight's Ridge Empire 4)

He’s hardly a white freaking knight, so why even try? Why not just leave me to drown in my own vomit? I’m sure that’s where last night would have gone if he didn’t bring me back here.

For the first time since I opened my eyes, I look around the bedroom I’m currently inside.

Holy shit.

Did he bring me back to his penthouse?

The sound of something breaking somewhere else in the flat makes me flinch, but I refuse to feel bad about it. I didn’t ask him to bring me here and watch over me like some fucking mother hen.

Pushing from the bed, I sigh when my feet sink into what I swear has to be the world’s softest and thickest carpet.

It’s black, just like almost everything else in this room. I feel weirdly comfortable here, surrounded by the kind of darkness I’m used to, but I stuff that thought down as quickly as it appears. I’m too hungover to deal with those kinds of fucked-up thoughts.

I should be feeling all kinds of out of place. Theo clearly has more money than I’m ever likely to see in a lifetime. His home should not be a place I feel relaxed in any way.

Glancing at the bedside table, I find a glass of water and a packet of painkillers.

Refusing to feel anything about the kind gesture, I robotically pop a couple of pills from the packet and throw them back, downing the entire glass of water in one.

It swirls about uncomfortably in my empty stomach, making me regret it instantly.

Walking on unsteady legs, I head toward a slightly open door in the hope I might find a bathroom behind it.

As I push the door open, my breath catches in my throat at the sight before me.

“Ho-ly fuuuck,” I breathe, stepping farther into the most insane bathroom I’ve ever seen.

It’s black. Literally. Everything is black.

I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. It mirrors his soul, after all.

My eyes are still shooting around the room, taking it all in as I push the door closed behind me.

If the pain in my head weren’t so bad, I’d be convinced this was a dream.

Hiking up the white shirt Theo dressed me in, I can’t help but notice that I’m the only light thing in the room as I lower my arse to the first black toilet I’ve ever sat on in my life.

I find a new toothbrush resting on the side of the basin with some toothpaste beside it.

It’s the only thing that isn’t hidden behind a cupboard, so I can only assume he’s left it for me.

With a frown wrinkling my brow, I grab them both and set about freshening my mouth up.

As the vile taste in my mouth vanishes, it seems to allow the aches that are assaulting my body to get worse with every second I stand there.

What the hell happened last night?

I’ve had enough raging hangovers in my time to know that this is beyond the average.

Placing the toothbrush back down, I rest my palms on the edge of the counter and roll my aching neck.

I shouldn’t hurt this much, especially after the insane bed he let me sleep in.

My eyes find the shower, and they widen at the sight of all the jets.

Oh, hell yes.

I shed Theo’s shirt and let it pool untidily on the floor, smiling like a naughty little child because the mess will irritate the hell out of him. It doesn’t matter that he won’t see it. It makes my chest puff with defiance.