Chapter 25

Such pretty skin.

But it doesn’t stay. The memories fade as someone moves.Killian. Standing behind the prick, he has his knife to his throat, the tip already drawing the tiniest bit of blood.

Forcing myself to relax, I exhale and stay seated.Control. I have to look like I have it together. That Killian is acting on unspoken words from me, at my command, even though I panicked.

He doesn’t look at Doyle—his gaze is trained on my face. Those soulless fucking eyes see every hidden fear, read every unhappy thought, see every memory, and I turn away.

“Apologize,” he says, gritting his teeth. “Or I find out what your heart looks like while it’s still pumping.”

“Call off your mutt,” Doyle seethes, perfectly still.

Licking my lips, I shrug. “I’m not inclined to do so. Tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Doyle grumbles, and Murray’s jowls tremble. It’s fucking exhilarating, and it chases away the dread in my gut.

“I want what I was promised.”

“My sister?” I cock my eyebrow. “You want to marrymysister.”

“Your father gave me his word.” Killian lowers his face to Doyle’s cheek and grins, inhaling his fear like a snake tasting prey. “Sloane is mine, by right.”

“Hayes,” I call lightly, not taking my eyes off the envoy. “Do you think the De Luca capo would be inclined to end his marriage to Sloane? Just for Doyle?”

Hayes tsks, rubbing his chin. His rough beard is the only noise in the room besides Doyle’s furious breaths. “You know, I don’t think so, Ace. He’s pretty adamant about keeping his wife.”

“Not to mention the twins,” Killian says, smirking. “He’sawfullyprotective as of late.”

Holding out my hands, I smile. “Sorry. Out of luck. Maybe next time.”

Doyle lurches forward to attack me, but Killian grips his hair, holding him back. The knife digs deeper, a large drop of red smearing against his neck, and it releases the tangible fear in my chest. “You fucking bitch?—”

Chucking my tongue, I stand slowly; the air shifts immediately. It grows heavier, darker, the cloak of something demonic rising from the bowels of the Earth to suck the warmth out of the room. My eyes narrow, and I know the green has fled—hidden under the black of a predator.

“Suchlanguagefor a Board member.”

He glares, the green in his eyes flashing with gold. Just like mine do.

“I’mowedher,” he spits, foaming at the mouth. “The rules of the arrangement say?—”

The fuckingarrangement.

It’s always about owning people—owning women like we’re pawns and the men control everything.

Not here. Not with me.

My anger rises higher, burning through me as hot as the fires of Hell. Shifting, I twist the pearl-inlaid handle from my side and slam it into Doyle’s hand, pinning it to the desk.

His shout is a symphony of angelic voices, sharp and beautiful. It vibrates out; the pain washing over my nerves, and I shudder as euphoria bursts through me. I grin down into his contorted face.

“A few points to make,” I say casually. My hand is still on the hilt, and honestly, the blood is pretty underneath. “One, thearrangementyou made with my father died with him. I am not liable to give you anything—least of all my baby sister.” I twist the knife and lap up his agony. Because damn, this is cathartic. “Two. You’re on my territory, Doyle. If I want to chop you intochunks of asshole and feed you to the fish in the harbor, I have every right to do so.”

Panting, sweat drops from his brow, and Killian shoves him forward. He doesn’t look so good. Is he going to get sick?Gross. “You’ve attacked a Board member. This is grounds for separation!”

I shrug. “Didn’t you scream at me during my father’s funeral, stating I was no longer a part of the Board’s protection? I assume that meant I didn’t have to follow their rules anymore.”

Killian taps his cheek, coming to my side. “You threatened to send assassins, too.”

Murray gulps loudly, rummaging through his bag. “He did.Wedid. The Board no longer recognizes you.”