King of Depravity: Chapter 30

The rest of the meeting happens exactly as it’s supposed to happen. Contracts are signed, agreements are made.

I’m positioned near the door, leaning against the wall, a silent centaur that warns the members of this meeting not to act up again.

The man I contained has had bruises blooming along his throat over the course of the hour. He’s going to be wearing his collar high for the next few weeks.

The Russians finally leave, having to pass me by as I glare at each in turn until only Kincaids and Smiths remain in the room. I don’t move.

This is both a position of power and the best opportunity for exit should shit go south. I both block the door and can use it at my convenience.

“Killian, why don’t you come sit?” Triston asks from his place at the head of the table.

“No.” Falling in love has not softened me in this regard. I don’t explain myself.

Mason turns to me, leaning back in his chair. “You did good today.”

I eye him with suspicion. “Let’s not pretend. Yesterday you thought me a liability. Chloe too.”

I see his slight wince.

I raise my finger. “You’re forgetting, Mason. I was there when you decided Charlotte was yours. A week in and you were rewriting all the rules, including where we stood in your business. It wasn’t until Gris got together with Arabella that we were back in your good graces.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m acting just as you did. And everyone thought your actions were a liability too. Were they right or wrong?”

“I get your point, Killian. But I don’t make a habit of killing random men.”

“Bullshit.” I push off the wall. “Preston was planned. And Alexander tried to kill my woman. A man touched your wife like that, he wouldn’t see the light of day, would he?”

Mason gives a single nod in acknowledgment.

I pull a small drive from my pocket. Holding it in the air, I eye him with all the alpha I possess. “This is the last time you question me and I justify my actions. If you don’t have faith in me, my sanity, or my allegiance, there is no place for me here.”

And then I swing my gaze to Triston, giving him an equal measure of my glare. He holds up his hands. “Understood, Killian. And for whatever it’s worth. You were right and I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

The apology does make me feel better, especially since it’s a very public one and I give my brother a nod of acknowledgment.

I toss the drive onto the table and it slides toward Mason. He covers it in his hand. “Is this the intel on the Russians?”

“A bit.” I give him a wolfish smile.

Irritation flares in eyes. I get it. I’m being difficult. But I’d like to live for a while.

He starts to speak, but Jake clears his throat. “Mason, this is what makes Killian exceptional. A ruthless attention to detail and the ability to see several steps ahead. You ought to appreciate both.”

Mason gives a stiff nod.

I’m well aware that Jake and Mason are playing good cop/bad cop. But I’ll join the game if I can learn some of Jake Kincaid’s tricks.

“What will I find on this drive?”

“I wanted to make it worth your while. It’s all the details on Ivan Ivanov.” He’s Dimitri’s most lethal foreman and the ringleader of their drug trade.

Mason jerks his chin in acceptance. The ability to strike at Ivan would hurt the Russian’s operation deeply. I’ve thrown him one bone, but it’s a large one.

Putting the drive in his shirt pocket, he and Jake stand. “How are revenues since opening your operation to the tunnel?” he asks as he stands.

“Up two hundred percent,” Triston smiles. “I know it will slow as the novelty wears off, but the money coming in now will be used to pick the bones of the Russians and Italians when the time comes.”

“Agreed,” Mason shakes hands with Triston, Ryker, and Gris before he approaches the door. Then he holds his hand out to me.

I pause for a moment before I slide my hand into his. His shake is firm, his gaze steady as he says, “I look forward to our future together.”

Gris comes to stand next to Mason, and he gives me the smallest wink before he leans over to Mason. “Just so you know, if shit goes sideways in Las Vegas, Arabella will be placed in Killian’s care. He’s got safehouses all over the world, money and supplies stashed in each of them. And he saves his violence for men, women turn him into a kitten.”

For one second, surprise lights Mason’s gaze. Then he leans closer as he says in a voice just above a whisper. “Your father a piece of shit too?”

Are we bonding? “You have no idea.”

One corner of his mouth tips up. “I might. A bit.”

Maybe he does. I’ve heard the details of his father’s death and the events that led to it.

Mason and Jake leave, and I turn to go as well. If I hurry, I might be able to stop Chloe before she even gets on the plane.

But Triston’s voice stops me. “Killian. Wait.”

I shake out my shoulders. “What is it, Triston? I’m about meeting’d out.”

He chuckles. “I’ve got something for you.”

I turn with a question, wondering if I should be worried. But he pulls a canvas out from behind the table in the corner. I cock my head, but before he gives it to me, Ryker clears his throat. “Killian?”

I look at my other brother, something in his tone making the hair on the back of my neck stand. “Yeah?”

Ryker’s mouth twitches. “I…I wondered what you meant about the comment about our father.”

I shrug. This is not something I plan to discuss. I never have and I doubt I ever will.

But his demeanor makes me pause. His head is bent as he rubs at the back of his neck. “I’ve wondered…” he stops, lifting his head so that our eyes meet. “…if you knew the truth.”

My blood runs cold. “The truth?”

“Is that what changed you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rush asks.

My tongue is stuck in my mouth, but Ryker just shrugs. “Have you ever wondered why you, Triston, and Gris all have this polished look while Killian and I appear far rougher?”

His comment throws me. It’s not that I haven’t thought the same, but it has nothing to do with how I came into the world and my feelings about my father.

“What are you talking about, Ryker?” Gris growls out.

Ryker lets out a long slow breath. “I’ve kept this information to myself out of respect to our mother, but we’re all grown men, and I know the secret hurts Killian.”

“Secret?” my voice is barely a raspy whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Our mother had an affair. You can see how it might happen. Being married to a selfish prick who was hardly ever with us. But Killian and I…we are the result.”

Bile churns in my stomach. “You mean to tell me that you—me—we…have the same biological father?”

“That’s right.” He gives our other three brothers an apologetic wince. “The love of our mother’s life.”

Light explodes behind my eyes. “But⁠—”

Ryker moves to stand right in front of me, his hand coming to my shoulder. “Killian? What’s the matter? I thought…”

“He told me…” I can barely push out the words, my chest is too tight, my head swimming. “He told me…”

“Who told you? Told you what?” Triston moves to my other side.

“Our father. Your father. He told me that I was the product of a vicious attack. That I was born out of filth…”

Ryker’s teeth snap together, a feral noise coming from his throat. “Tell me everything.”

For the first time in twenty years, I do. I tell them about that night, about what he told me, and about how I’ve believed since that day that I was made of violence and darkness. Telling them, ridding myself of the words, it lightens me in ways I’ve never imagined. Sharing with Chloe first really helped. It loosened my tongue, shaped the words.

When I’m done, I see the stunned faces of all four of my brothers. “Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” Ryker spits. “He was always a selfish, vindicative asshole, but that…”

“Killian,” Gris comes to my other side, Rush just on Ryker’s shoulder so my brothers are ringing me. “How have you even fucking survived that?”

“No more killing,” Triston murmurs. “We’re changing your job.”

I appreciate what he says. And I know that changes are coming. I welcome them, truthfully. I’m ready to step out of the shadows and be a more visible member of our team.

And the support of all my brothers today has removed a heavy shroud that’s been over my shoulders.

But I am who I am now. And if any man touches Chloe, he will feel my wrath.

Triston must sense my shift in thought, it’s like he hears me mention Chloe in my private thoughts, because he steps away, grabbing the canvas that he’d set down when I’d began to speak.

Turning it to face me, I see Chloe’s painting for the first time. “I rescued this from your loft.”

But I don’t answer.

Instead, I stare. It’s me, but a me I’ve never seen before. I’m so strong, and…beautiful. Made of empty space, of dark sky, but filled with beautiful stars. My throat closes as I reach my hands for the painting, touching the places where bullets have ripped the canvas.

“I can’t believe…”

“She loves you, man.” Triston gives my arm a light punch. “And she thinks you’re a beautiful person.”

“Or a god. Which is weird,” Rush says with a shrug.

“It’s the best a man can hope for,” Gris scowls at our youngest brother. “You’ll understand someday.”

“I doubt it,” he fires back.

But I hold the canvas in my hands, knowing that it’s time for me to go get my girl. “Question,” I say, done with brotherly bonding. “How likely is Mason to allow me to use his jet?”