King of Depravity: Chapter 19

We finally make it out of bed and into the shower. And then, I insist on making us breakfast at lunch time. Killian feeds me all the time, I want to return the favor.

When we’re done eating, I carry the dishes to the sink, even as Killian comes up behind me. “You going to paint this afternoon?”

“Yeah,” I answer, glancing back at him. “I’m going to ignore the world today, I think. Tomorrow, I’ll have to get more of my stuff at my place, and quit my job at the piano bar, since I start at Temptation on Tuesday.”

“You going to call and tell your boss?”

“It would be better to do in person.” One thing I am not, is a coward.

Killian rumbles behind me. “I don’t like it.”

“I’ll go before hours when it’s just staff,” I say. “Take a cab over, and I’ll pay the driver to wait so I can leave right away once I’m done.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says, giving my hips a light squeeze. “Tomorrow?”

I nod. “Does that work for you?”

“Yeah. It’s good.” He nuzzles my neck, his hands on my hips.

I look back over my shoulder. “What are you doing today?”

“I’ve got a meeting at Smith Brothers Real Estate.”

“It’s Sunday.” Of course, I always work on weekends, but Killian has a real job.

“That’s the thing about owning your own business, I guess. Weekends don’t mean much. Especially not in real estate.”

I look at the loft, knowing that it must have been expensive. “I don’t mean to pry, but you said last night that it was impossible to spend all your money. Does that mean…”

“If you’re asking if I’m rich, the answer is yes. When my brother inherited the dukedom, he had enough funds to pay off my father’s debts. By carefully selling off a few properties, he gave us seed money, with the express direction to grow the family’s wealth. We started with ten million.”

“T-t-ten m-million?” My stomach swoops and I’m lightheaded. My mother sold me out for a credit card that allowed her to spend two thousand a month. I can’t even imagine having that kind of money.

“But we’ve grown that to close to half a billion dollars.” Killian tosses out these numbers like they’re nothing, but I’m gripping the sink.

“You can’t mean that number.”

“The Kincaids outearn us by leaps and bounds.” He pats my ass then. “But I’ve got enough, like I said, you can’t spend it all even if you tried.” He moves away, grabbing his wallet and keys from the secretary near the door. “Knowing you, I’d doubt you’d even make a dent in my bank account.”

His words still make my head spin. “I understand a little better now. But I’m still not sure I agree. It’s not about the amount, I don’t think. It’s about the feeling. At some point each of my mom’s husbands realized she only cared about how much she could spend and not about them.”

Killian stops and then he’s coming back to me, lifting me into his arms, soapy hands and all. “You are the only woman I have met who has ever made me feel seen. I know I’m not a credit card to you, Chloe, and a man can’t put a price tag on that feeling.”

“Oh.” The blood rushes in my ears as I look down at him. I have no experience with this kind of relationship and no example to follow.

He kisses me again, and sets me down, his hands lingering for a moment before he finally leaves.

I head to my easel, my brain full of Killian and all these new feelings as I fill my palette with paint and begin working.

I’m nearing the end of the galaxy and starting on the body, which I’m also doing in shades of blue.

I close my eyes and picture the swoop of his shoulders, the thickness of his muscles, the strong line of his jaw.

The painting cuts off just above the eyes, but I chose this on purpose. It allows me to really emphasize them, and I fill the dark shades of his irises with light specks that sparkle like stars.

I lose all track of time as I work, lost in color, the feel, the mood of the piece. I pour my feelings for him into the work.

When I first met Killian, I thought he was red. Angry. But the longer I’m with him, the more I feel his calm. See his care.

A knock sounds on the door, and I raise my head, instantly tensing. Without Killian here, I have no idea if I should answer the door.

I pick up my phone to text Killian when I realize he texted me forty-five minutes ago saying that his brother Rush was dropping in.

“Hello?” I call.

“Chloe?” a male voice calls in a posh accent. “I’m Killian’s brother, Rushton. May I come in?”

I cross to the door, peering through the peephole. I recognize Rush from the coffee shop, so I open the door with a smile. “Hello.”

He steps inside, his smile of greeting filled with mirth. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all. Why do you ask?” I close the door, even as he reaches out and runs a thumb over my cheek.

I start back, not expecting to be touched and he winces. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just…” And then he shows me his thumb, now covered in blue paint.

A laugh bursts from my lips. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry…I…” My giggles subside. “I can be a bit skittish, I suppose, maybe Killian told you.”

Rush shakes his head. “Nope. Then again, Killian isn’t really much of a talker.”

“Huh,” I say, trying to figure that one out. Killian isn’t chatty, but he’s not silent either. We actually talk a lot more than I ever imagined. “Interesting.”

Rush crosses his arms, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he gives me an appraising glance. “Does he talk to you?”

I’m not sure how to answer. I mean the answer is yes, but I have no idea why Rush is asking, why he’s here, or what Killian would want me to say to his family. “He’s not much for discussing the weather, sports, or politics.”

Rush chuckles. “No. I’d imagine not.”

I clear my throat. “Killian texted you were coming but he didn’t say why.”

But before Rush answers, another text from Killian pops up on my phone.

Is he there?

“Is that Killian?” Rush asks. I nod and then text back.

“He was worried about leaving you alone,” Rush supplies, moving into the loft. But he stops as he catches sight of my painting. “Holy shit.”

My skin heats. “Yeah. Sorry. Is it weird? I don’t usually show people my stuff, I…”

“Chloe, it’s amazing,” he stares at it, his gaze narrowed in focus. “I mean, I can’t believe…how serious are you and Killian?”

That last question catches me off guard. “I guess it is weird that I’m painting him after only knowing him for a short time, but he’s kind of an anomaly in my life.”

“Killian is definitely an anomaly. But that wasn’t what I was talking about. I can actually feel the emotion just from looking at your painting.”

Was I blushing before? I must be scarlet now. “He hasn’t seen it,” I whisper. “I asked him not to look.”

Rush turns to me then, his brows raised in a question like he can’t figure out what’s going on between me and Killian. I can’t even remember what the question he asked me was, though, so I step around him, picking up my palette again. “Why did Killian send you here?”

Rush shrugs. “He’s worried about the Russians.”

“Coming here?” I know what Alexander did at the piano bar. And I appreciate Killian not wanting me at my place. There is no one to protect me on the off-chance Preston or Alexander figured out where I lived, or followed me, though I don’t know why they would.

Honestly, it all seems kind of dramatic, but since I’m really enjoying my time here, and I want Killian to feel at ease, there doesn’t seem much point in arguing.

“Yeah. Something like that.” He moves toward the couch. “You don’t need to entertain me. I’m just going to hang out while Killian finishes up with Triston and Mason.”

“Mason? But he’s not part of your company, is he?”

Rush shrugs. “Yes and no. He built this tunnel under Vegas, and everyone wants to connect their casinos to the tunnel, including us. Though, we’ve already accomplished that goal so it’s a matter of ironing out the details with him and deciding if we do even more business together.”

I set the brush I’d raised back down. I’d seen the billboards for the tunnel project. It’s the latest greatest way to drive foot traffic. “You have access?”

“Yep,” Rush winks at me. “Thanks, in part, to Gris’s marriage.”

“Do the Russians have access?”

“No.”

I think I’m starting to understand all the connections of the people I’ve met. “And Preston was Arabella’s fiancé, but when they broke up, he…”

“Started hanging out with the Russians.” Rush says the words, but I can hear his tone get more clipped, like he doesn’t really want to discuss these details.

I’m not sure why the Russians would want Preston around since he isn’t part of the Kincaid family anymore, unless he knew stuff about them? But I doubt Rush is answering many more of my questions on this subject.

He’s been way chattier than anyone else, which I appreciate.

I raise my brush instead, understanding better that I’ve stepped smack in the middle of an existing feud. “How long has all this been going on?”

Rush shakes his head. “That’s a tricky question. It started ten years ago⁠—”

“Ten years!” I stop painting again.

“Well, that’s how long the Kincaids and the Italians have been at odds. The Russians are a new addition.”

“I think I might need to take notes and create a chart,” I mutter as I start painting again.

Rush chuckles. “Too true.”

Silence falls again. I won’t ask Rush how long Killian plans on having me stay, it’s a question I’ll ask Killian myself. He said a few weeks, but this seems like a much bigger problem than a few weeks will solve.

But it’s only quiet for a few minutes before Rush breaks it. “So. How serious are things with you and my brother?”

I stop painting again. Looking around my canvas, my gaze meets Rush’s. “My own history would require notes and a timeline too.”

He quirks a smile. “Okay.”

“Which means, I have never done anything like what I’m doing with Killian, so I have no idea how to gauge…seriousness.”

His eyes light with understanding. “I understand. Killian doesn’t do much dating either, which is why we’re all curious.”

It’s not like I didn’t know that, but hearing Rush say it fills me with satisfaction. Rush is classically handsome, polished like Triston is polished, and my guess is he does loads of dating. “It’s not like we’ve even been out on a real date,” I mutter, starting again. “But he did tell me that I make him feel seen.”

“What do you see when you look at Kill?”

“I don’t think you should call him that,” I answer. “He thinks he’s a dark void. But I think he’s like space. It appears dark at first, until you start to see all the beautiful specks of light.”

Rush doesn’t answer. Maybe it’s presumptuous of me to tell him about his own brother, though he did ask.

“He talk about our family? Our parents?”

I’ve always got the sense that there is some real serious shit in Killian’s past, but he’s been silent about it. I shake my head. “No. Only a few cryptic comments.”

“Mmm,” Rush mumbles. “Too bad.”

This is starting to feel like an interrogation. “Did Killian send you to dig into my head?”

“No,” Rush quickly says. “In fact, he’d probably be pissed. But he’s not acting like himself and⁠—”

“How is he different?”

“Well, in some ways, he seems more present than he’s been for a long time. But then he goes off and just whacks Preston, and then I start to worry he’s fallen deeper into his hole.”

Some cold dread washes down my spine. “Whacks Preston? What does that mean?”