Page 33 of Drunk On Love

The masked man, driving a knife into my arm.

I could feel it all again—the cold steel piercing my skin, the pain searing through my body, the sheer terror gripping myheart. Every detail came back with vivid clarity: the suffocating darkness of the room, the echo of my frantic breaths, the metallic scent of blood, and the horrifying thought that I might not make it out alive.

I struggled against Rocky’s hold, my breathing shallow and erratic. “Let me go!”

My legs wobbled beneath me, threatening to collapse at any moment. A sharp, stinging pain radiated from my forearm, and when I glanced down, I saw it—a thin, crimson line of blood trailing where the fork had pierced my skin.

My heart pounded in my chest like a drumbeat, drowning out all other sounds.

My mind screamed at me to move, to fight back, but my body remained frozen, locked in the grip of fear.

Breathe. Just breathe. Kiara breathe!

The room spun wildly, the walls closing in as my vision blurred.

I reached out, fingers trembling, and gripped the edge of the table in a desperate attempt to ground myself.

8 ♥?Manav

As I stepped into the bakery, the scene before me froze me in my tracks—Rocky was gripping a fork and shouting at Kiara, her left arm twisted painfully behind her back, and blood was dripping from her right forearm.

This man is dead today.

I lunged at him, my fist connecting with his face. He stumbled backward, and I landed another punch, this time to his jaw, sending him crashing into the counter. Blood poured from his nose as he groaned, dazed.

The door swung open, and the sheriff burst in with his team. They wasted no time cuffing Rocky and dragging him out, his feeble protests drowned by the sound of their stern orders.

Kiara was standing still as a statue, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. Blood dripped steadily from her arm, staining the floor beneath her. She looked so small, so fragile, yet so heartbreakingly strong in her silence.

I took a step toward her, then another, until I was close enough to see the trembling of her hands. Gently, I reached out, wiping away a tear that rolled down her cheek with my thumb.

Her eyes met mine. Haunted. Vulnerable.

“Kiara…” I was unsure if my words could even reach her at this moment.

She blinked, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she buried herself in my arms, trembling violently and gasping for air.

I tightened my hold around her. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t respond—her sobs were muffled against my chest. I cupped the back of her head, my hand pressing gently, my heart twisting painfully at the sight of her so shattered.

“Did he hurt you anywhere else?” I asked softly, taking the clean cotton Lina handed me and pressing it carefully against the bleeding gash on her arm.

Still, no answer, just her fingers clutching my shirt as if letting go wasn’t an option. I pulled back slightly, trying to meet her gaze, but she only clung tighter.

That bastard… I’ll kill him.

“Kiara,” I murmured gently, brushing back a stray strand of hair from her tear-streaked face. “Breathe…”

Guiding her carefully to the car, I opened the door and helped her settle into the backseat. Once she was seated, I slid in beside her, pulling the door shut behind me. I wrapped her tighter in my arms.

I took her trembling hands in mine, rubbing them lightly to bring some warmth back into her cold fingers. My thumbs swept away the tears that traced paths down her cheeks. “You’re safe now…”

She didn’t respond, but she leaned further into me, her head resting against my chest. I pressed my cheek to her hair, holding her closer.

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It was late—11:30 p.m. and the house was quiet, with no staff in sight. I helped her settle on a stool near the kitchen counter, ensuring she was comfortable before turning my attention to the preparations.