“Would you have preferred I let you walk?” Uilleam asked as if she were the one being unreasonable.
As if they both didn’t know why she was starting to feel the stirrings of annoyance with him. She didn’t think it was a coincidence at all that he had sent Skorpion to give her a “ride.” Especially since he had been more than content to allow her to grab a taxi the rest of the time they’d known each other.
“Or you could just admit that the thought of me with Orion sends you into a state,” she replied dryly, her brow knitting together as Skorpion drove past the turn that would take her back to her apartment.
“I’m merely concerned for your safety,” he said reasonably, sounding as if he were in an empty room with the way his voice echoed.
“Because how on earth did I survive before you came into my life. You know, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“I’m quite certain you believe so, yes, but you’re wonderfully naïve to this world of mine, poppet. Everyone is out for their own gain and cares only about what they can take.”
She blew out a breath. “What could you possibly think Orion wants from me?”
“You,” he said curtly with so much venom behind the word that she was starting to believe it wasn’t as simple as jealousy for him.
This time, when she responded, she attempted to soften her tone. “We’re friends, Uilleam. Nothing more.”
“You don’t see the way he looks at you.”
She pictured Orion in the back of her mind. The way he smiled when they were joking around, his demeanor when she was testing his patience by continuing with stories that he didn’t want her to get too close to. But she imagined that was just who Orion was. He cared about those who cared about him.
But even still, she found herself asking, “How do you think he looks at me?”
Uilleam didn’t answer immediately, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer at all. “Like there’s not anything else in the world worth beholding.”
She wanted to dismiss his words—to deny them outright—but his voice made her pause. “Why would you think that?”
“Because it’s the way I look at you.”
They were so distinctively different in her head, Uilleam and Orion, that she couldn’t begin to see the comparison, but as she sat there with her phone tucked against her ear, she couldn’t help but wonder if that were true—and whether she was too close to see it.
But even as she considered that possibility, she also knew it didn’t matter.
Her heart beat for Uilleam. She didn’t have a choice.
“Even if he does,” she said after clearing her throat, “it doesn’t matter.”
Because in this there wasn’t a choice to make—no decision she needed to ponder over or rationalize.
Uilleam was it.
“Where exactly do you have Skorpion driving me to?” she asked a second later, her gaze drifting back out the window, watching the inner-city buildings fade until residential properties lined the street.
By the time they reached Upper Brooklyn, she was pretty sure she had a good idea, but it didn’t matter as Skorpion finally slowed near a brick townhouse painted white.
It stood out among the sea of them along the block with its own patch of manicured grass and a single tree that still looked as if it had been freshly planted.
They had hardly parked next to the curb before the front door was opening, Uilleam stepping out wearing a blue suit, though his jacket seemed to be missing.
If being a career criminal didn’t work out for him, he could certainly model on a runway—especially with those cheekbones.
Karina didn’t wait for Skorpion to open the door for her before she climbed out of the truck, her heels clicking as she stepped up onto the curb. Unable to help herself, she looked around the quiet street in the suburban neighborhood, rather enjoying the way the snow clung to the naked branches of trees lining the streets.
A part of her wanted to ask why they were here, but she was smart enough to guess why.
“You know, when you asked if I wanted to move in with you, I assumed it was going to be a place you already owned, not one you were looking to buy.”
“Where would the fun in that be?” Uilleam asked, extending his hand to steady her on the slippery steps as he led her inside the warm interior of the townhouse.
The foyer was brightly lit by the chandelier hanging above the entryway. With tile floors that closely resembled marble and the white painted walls, she was already in love with it before she’d even had a proper look around.
Uilleam stepped behind her to help her out of her coat before he hung it on the stand by the door.
“How much is this place?” she asked, glancing back at him as she made her way inside. While she didn’t know much about New York real estate, she could guess that this particular place—as big as it seemed to be—cost a pretty good amount.
“Worth every penny if you like it,” he answered—a clever way of avoiding what she really wanted to know.
She smiled as she started down the hallway, pausing in front of the oversized mirror that hung on the wall. “Did you hire an agent, or are you going to be giving me the spiel?”
He appeared far too amused at the idea as he nodded for her to follow him. “It’s comprised of more than eighty-five-hundred square feet and spans eight stories.”
The number made her blink twice. She’d already suspected that the price of the property would be astronomical, and now she knew she was right. Nothing this big in a city this small would cost anything less than ten million dollars—especially in a neighborhood like this.
“Uilleam, this is—”
“The price doesn’t matter,” he said before she could finish.
“But—”
“Doesn’t. Matter. The only thing I’m concerned with is whether you like it. If you don’t, I’ll find something else. If you do, it’s only a matter of signing paperwork. Money isn’t an object.”
An absent sort of smile curled her lips as she traced her fingers over the molding along the wall. “Spoken like a man who’s always had money.”
Even before she had walked away from the family and the financial security it provided—before Ashworth Hall had become her home—she had known what it was like to struggle. There had been more than a few nights when she had wondered if she would eat, or if there would be a blanket for her and Isla to share to keep warm.
It might have felt like a lifetime ago—someone else’s life sometimes—but she still remembered it all.
“What was it like?” she found herself asking, moving through the formal dining room toward the kitchen that made her heart gallop with giddiness.
She might not have done much cooking in her apartment, but in here, she would spend every night standing in front of that gas range. White subway tiles with open front cabinets had always been her weakness. Quartz countertops and a farmhouse sink completed the room.
“What was what like?” Uilleam asked, trailing after her, his casual expression making her think he knew exactly what she was asking but was merely buying his time.
“Growing up as a Runehart. You’ve called your father a tyrant, but you don’t really speak much about what it was like living under a man like him.”
The mention of his father made his entire demeanor shift. A muscle clenched in his jaw as he looked away, his gaze on the bay window that offered a view of the courtyard where, in the spring, it would be lush with greenery and flowers.
“There’s also a pool in the basement,” he said after a moment, his expression still grim.
“You can talk to me …”
“And an outdoor shower.”
“Uilleam—”
“Plus, a master suite with—”
“Uilleam, it’s me.”
This wasn’t like the other secrets he kept. He didn’t want to talk about his father or his childhood. It was written all over his face, and had she been anyone else, not only did she
doubt if he would answer, she was also sure she wouldn’t like whatever came out of his mouth next.
“If you’re worried that I’ll feel differently about you because of whatever you say, I won’t.”
And she wouldn’t.
Even if she didn’t notice his reluctance, she would have known that whatever happened while he was a child had changed him—molded him into what he was now.
Considering his reaction, she could almost guess that it was because of his father that he had chosen this life.
“I don’t—”
“They called him the Butcher,” Uilleam started on a rush, sounding as if he wanted to talk about anything other than that. “Or at least some did. If anyone called him that to his face, well … he didn’t respond too kindly.”
He stepped closer to her, his gaze drifting down to her hand before he intertwined their fingers—as if he needed to ground himself in the present with her. She didn’t respond, letting him take his time with what he wanted to say instead of rushing him.
“Ready to see the upstairs?” he asked, his expression blank, but there was a firmness to the way he was holding her hand that made her simply nod and follow behind him.
There was no central staircase that connected all the floors but rather a fixed point on each level that ventured up to the next.
The upper level was as beautiful as the ground floor with dark hardwood floors and the same light paint on the walls, but even as she admired the view around her, in the back of her mind, she was still thinking about Uilleam and his father.
It wasn’t until they were upstairs in the master bedroom—complete with a little reading nook that would be perfect for a settee and her favorite books—that he continued.
“In the early days, he wasn’t … so bad,” he said reluctantly as if he didn’t want to give his father even that much credit. “There was, actually, a time when he enjoyed his family and made sure it was known. But men like him … they acquired enemies over the years, and times were different back then. There was no such thing as word of mouth and fear. If someone wanted to strike, they did so without fear of consequences.”
She tried to imagine that life, and more, she tried to imagine what it must have been like for Uilleam himself. How he must have felt when his father was attacked—how it had ultimately changed him and not for the better. If she couldn’t envision the sight now, she could only imagine a very young Uilleam trying to understand what was happening around him.
“Carmelo likes to say he started losing his sanity around the third attempt to kill him. This time, they had thought to beat him to death with a crowbar. Of course, he didn’t die, but the attack made him volatile and paranoid. After a week in the hospital and having to get his jaw wired shut, he’d started to believe the world was coming after him.”
Uilleam rubbed a hand over his face, seeming younger than he ever had before.
Even as she was happy to have him answer so many of her burning questions, she still wished she didn’t need to ask at all.
“We weren’t children to him anymore,” he said with a slight shake of his head as if banishing the image before it could fully form in the back of his mind. “He didn’t see the world as it was but rather as his paranoia presented it. That quick, we could become enemies he thought would try to eliminate him at the earliest convenience.”
Though their childhoods had been vastly different, she couldn’t help but notice the similarities, even if it had affected them differently.
But it wasn’t just anger that colored his tone and made him tense—disappointment lingered there as well. A sadness that made her heart ache for him.
She tried to understand what her mother saw—the man she thought she needed to stop before he garnered too much power in the criminal underworld. She obviously didn’t know the man—especially not the one standing in front of her—who felt hurt at the mere thought of his father.
A man, who in the middle of whatever plans he was making, wanted to purchase a home just so they could live together.
He’d told her once that he was a different sort of monster.
She believed him, but she also didn’t think he was anything like he thought. He was better than he even gave himself credit for.
The tour momentarily forgotten, she turned back to face him, wishing he wasn’t always so hard to read. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for him,” he said just as quickly, seeming troubled at the very thought. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
“All the same. You didn’t deserve what you suffered.”
“Perhaps not, but I’m stronger for it. I have him to thank for that.”
Karina tried to wrap her mind around that, but as she opened her mouth to ask another question, he shook his head.
“I’ll tell you more, anything you want to know … just”—he paused, licking his lips—“not now.”
Later, she thought as she smiled and turned away. She would have plenty of time to ask him about it later.
They had all the time in the world.
“How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“Six.”
“Bathrooms?”
“Seven.”
“I never understood why people build these homes with more bathrooms than bedrooms.” She would have thought it would be the opposite, but what did she know? “Come on, then. Let’s see the rest of it.”
From one room to the next, she fell in love with the townhouse—saw what it could possibly become—but it wasn’t until they reached the last bedroom, one tucked away on the other side of the house that brought a playful smile to her face.
“What do you think of this room?” she asked as she walked ahead of him, spinning in a circle as she drank it in. From the dark floors to the high ceiling and the stretch of windows along the east wall.
Once finished with their tour, his phone had chimed, stealing his attention momentarily, but at her question, he focused back on her. He didn’t look nearly as enthralled as she felt. “It’s as nice as any of the other rooms.”
Fine. She knew a way to get his attention. “Nice enough for a nursery, do you think?”
Almost immediately, his gaze came to her, but there wasn’t alarm there—something else that made her heart skip a beat.
“If we did, I’d have the crib right here in the very center of the room. Do you want to know why?”
For a moment, just a moment, he smiled. Barely there, then gone. A second or less passed before his expression grew more serious as he crossed the floor to her.
“Tell me,” he said, holding her gaze.
What had been meant as a playful remark to get her attention turned into something more. A dream she hadn’t thought about in a long time.
“Because they would be the center of our universe. And you know what my first gift would be?” she asked, her voice gentler now as she remembered her very favorite story as a little girl. Of exploring wonderland and all it had to offer … “A little white rabbit.”
He kissed her then, fast and hard. “Then I think this is the place for us.”
Yeah …
She thought so too.
13
Kyrnon
It took all of ten days for him to sign the paperwork and for the townhouse to officially become his.
Uilleam didn’t think twice about the cost of it—more than twenty million dollars—not if it meant Karina was happy. But even as he’d had his butler and confidante, Dominic, complete the purchase, a part of him had wondered what it would be like to live with another individual after so long.
He had never considered himself much of a people person—nor did he particularly like living with someone else. His space was his own and the idea of someone invading it made his skin itch.
Yet the thought of being away from Karina made him antsy. He might have been keeping his secrets, but he still wanted to share everything with her.
His life.
His wealth.
Everything that mad
e him him.
He wanted her to see the good and the bad—all the little bits he tended to hide from everyone else. And there was no better way for her to truly understand him than to take this next step.
“Everything is as requested, sir,” Dominic said as he walked into the room after briefly knocking on the door, carrying a small briefcase.
Of all the staff who had worked at the Runehart estate, Dominic was the only one Uilleam had chosen to continue to employ. Though, that was putting it a bit nicely.
Realistically, he was the only member of the staff who had wanted to stay employed within the family. The others had fled as quickly as possible. Uilleam hadn’t minded so much, considering there were plenty of others in the world who wouldn’t blink an eye at working for a man like himself, but he hadn’t bothered, if only because it would ensure less people available to betray him.
Dominic, on the other hand, was as loyal as they came, and there had never come a time in Uilleam’s life when he doubted where the man’s allegiance stood.
“Has the inspector already come out?” he asked without looking away from the article he was reading.
Dominic nodded and held up a folder. “Any issues were listed in his report here, but I’ve already sent contractors to take care of what little was there.”
It was why he knew he could count on him. Unlike a few individuals who worked for him, he didn’t have to be told what he needed to do before he did it.
Which was another reason he had brought him over here instead of leaving him in Wales to tend to the estate. Not only would he need someone around to look after his personal affairs, but the softer more sentimental part of him wanted the man to meet Karina.
After all, she was curious about his life before she’d known him, and there was no better source for that information than Dominic.
Of course, there was Kit, but even he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about his brother or his sudden arrival just yet. It didn’t always serve his interests well when his brother came around.
“After they’ve finished,” Dominic continued, setting the file on Uilleam’s desk, “the painters should arrive shortly after. I estimate you’ll be able to move in by the beginning of the month.”
White Rabbit Page 16