by Kate Stewart
It’s been two weeks since I discovered she had a kid. I’d lie awake at night wondering about the man she gave her body to. I told myself his father didn’t matter, but then jealousy forced my hand. She lied about Caylen’s conception. Sometimes we forget how those years together made us know one another better than we knew ourselves. When the time was right, I’d finally uncover her secrets.
I guess Z had been right.
Mian made it impossible not to want to know more.
I was pulled from my thoughts when I felt a light touch on my hand. The baby stood with his little fists grasping the edge in between my hands. When my gaze met his shiny blues, his gummy grin shone bright.
“What are you up to?” He made a high-pitched squeal of excitement, and he bounced up and down in place. “Showing off?” His grip slid closer to mine until his fist touched my much bigger one. I flinched and lifted my hand to move it away but froze when his smile dropped.
I told myself it was a trick of my own mind.
My hand lowered anyway and closed over his fist. His smile returned brighter than before.
I ignored the stabbing pain in my chest and took a deep breath. “All right, kid. Let’s go see your mother.”
He did that squealing shit again when I lifted him from the crib. I held him to my chest while he stuck his fist in his mouth. My heart stopped beating for a moment as if to disguise itself when he laid his head against my chest.
I was reminded of Mian. While she guarded her emotions with others, she let them free with Caylen. Keeping them apart had been my only weapon, but last night, I’d begun to wonder if there was a different way to yield it.
I kept my arm locked around him to keep him secure and unlocked the door. She stood with her back turned, gazing out the window.
“I get this chill down my spine whenever you enter the room. It’s how I know you’re there even when you don’t want me to.”
Caylen chose that moment to babble in my arms. Mian spun around. Fear and surprise seized her when her gaze landed on Caylen in my arms.
“What are you doing with him?”
We moved at the same time. She looked ready to defend her child against me, and for one insane moment, it made me want to protect them both against me, too.
“I thought he would like a visit with his mother.”
“So you’re satisfied I won’t infect my own child?”
“The continuation of this visit is contingent on whether or not you can behave.”
She glanced down at her son and her hard exterior softened. Caylen’s head moved excitedly, and I wondered if he recognized his mother’s voice.
“I can behave.” She’d whispered so softly it was a wonder I’d heard her at all. I handed her the baby. She spoke to him softly in a way she had never spoken to me and held him close in a way she would never offer me.
Come on, Knight. You’re not actually jealous of the baby.
I stood back and watched them interact. I kept as still and silent as possible so as to not taint the scene playing out in front of me. She leaned down and rubbed her nose with his, and he returned her affection with a toothless grin.
“Have these bad men mistreated you?” Though her tone was light, I noticed how she subtly checked him for signs of abuse as soon as he was in her arms.
“Mian.”
“It never hurts to ask,” she grumbled. She looked up and met my gaze, which had turned hard and cold again. “Why are you hanging around anyway? You don’t trust me with my own baby?”
“Just satisfying a curiosity.”
“I see.” She lowered her head again to stare at her son. “And whatever business you have waiting for you isn’t more important?”
“Business doesn’t happen without my say so.”
“Fascinating.”
“What is?”
“How proud you are to be a criminal.”
I felt my gaze narrow. “I thought you said you were going to behave.”
A tiny smile spread her lips, but she turned away before I could see it form into a full-blown smile. She had no idea her smiles weakened me or else she would never deny me them. Mian had never been the type to tempt, but I was sure she was willing to do just about anything to rescue her son.
“Can I ask you something? It requires honesty.”
She faced me with suspicion in her gaze. “Okay,” she conceded with hesitation.
“Your father’s eyes are green. Yours are green.”
“Where is the question?”
“Does Caylen’s father have blue eyes?” She looked alarmed confirming only half of what I knew about the father.
“Why do you ask?”
“Answer me.”
She thought it over before she answered. “Yes.”
“I’ll leave you two alone then.” I caught her frown before I turned and headed for the door.
“Angel.”
I turned at the sound of her call.
“Yes, Mian?”
She seemed to struggle with something before she moved to the chair and took a seat. “Nothing.”
The sun was starting to set when I returned to Mian’s room. I found her stretched on her side next to a sleeping Caylen.
“He fell asleep.”
“Babies do that.”
“Maybe he’d be more comfortable in his crib.”
She snorted. “Come on, Angel. Be a man. You’re taking him from me.”
“Yes, Mian. I am.”
She was silent for a while but then she said, “Can I see?”
“See what?”
“I want to see where you’re keeping him.”
I started to ask why, but then it occurred to me that, as his mother, it was important to her. “Sure.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really.” I held the door open and waited. She watched me for a few seconds longer and then scooped the baby in her arms.
I led the way to the other side of the house with her close on my heels. When we reached the nursery, I let her pass and tried to ignore the guard Lucas insisted we put in place. His attention was locked on Mian. “It’s the door right in front of you.”
“You aren’t coming in?”
“No.” She must have sensed my anger because she entered the nursery without a smart retort. Once the door closed, I pushed into the guard’s space. “Something wrong with your focus?”
“Sir?”
“I know an eye fuck when I see one. Do I pay you to eye fuck?”
“No, sir.”
“So next time, what will happen?”
“I… uh—”
“You’ll keep those thoughts to yourself, or I’ll take care of your eye problem with my favorite knife. Get me?”
He gulped and wouldn’t meet my gaze for shit. “Yes, sir.”
I made a mental note to send him packing in the morning and entered the nursery. Mian already had Caylen in his crib where she stood over him. Her attention, though, was shifting around the room. She looked confused.
I tried to see what she saw but couldn’t see past the comfortable crib, soft lighting, and changing table stocked with pampers and wipes. On the shelves I had brought in were onesies and caps, bibs and binkies, and blankets. Her precious Caylen wanted for nothing.
“Something wrong?”
Her gaze finally locked with mine and there was nothing but disdain in her green eyes. “It’s not what I expected.”
“Meaning?”
“You’re going through a lot of trouble to pretend you aren’t a monster.”
My gaze narrowed. “Would you rather I dangle him over a tank of hungry sharks?”
“I’d rather you let us go, but since that isn’t happening, then yes,” she hissed. “I’d like you to stop playing games, but by no means do I want you to hurt my son.”
I moved in until she had no choice but to retreat. “If you’re looking to be hurt, I can accommodate you.”
“I want to know what game you’re playing.
”
“We’re at war, Mian. Enemies don’t flash each other their playbook.”
“What does it matter if you’re already dead? It’s just a matter of time.” The venom in her tone was chilling, but I had years of conditioning and wouldn’t tremble so easily even if I did believe she meant it.
“I could say the same for you.” She bared her teeth, and I could almost feel them sinking into me as I drove into her.
Damn.
“Have dinner with me.”
Instantly, she changed from angry tigress to scared doe. “What?”
“I want us to have dinner together.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I’ll starve you if you don’t.” I considered if it was smart to show her my hand, but she made it necessary to remind her why she should be afraid.
She glared, and I pretended I hadn’t noticed the way her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took. Besides, it was the fight in her eyes that captivated me. Like she could keep me from starving her if I wished.
“Golly gee, but they are both such equally repulsive choices.” She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and stuck her finger to her chin. “However, starving does not agree with me, so I guess I’ll have to accept your invitation.”
“You do me an honor,” I returned with equal sarcasm.
She opened those pouty pink lips to one up me, but I grabbed her around the waist, stealing her chance. She stiffened when I slid my hand across the small of her spine. My fingers tingled just as she shivered, and then our gazes met.
She felt it, too. She had to.
With her face upturned, I couldn’t ignore how she licked her lips. Everything—dinner, seduction, revenge—it all fled, leaving only one thing behind…
I pulled her into me.
She had nowhere else to go.
Lust had already clouded her judgment.
She was mine.
“Angel?” She sounded uncertain.
My shirt shifted under her fingers as she clenched the material. Her breathing was no longer steady. It shook along with her body, and I wondered how fast I could melt Mian’s ice.
“Angel,” she groaned.
This time, I answered. My lips took hers, and I swallowed the surprised gasp that escaped. My little bandit pushed to get away until I growled. Her whimper of defeat was muffled, but my dick still felt it.
Slowing the kiss down, I nudged gently at her lips until they parted and then I waited. Her nails dug into my chest now, urging me on.
Perhaps she was confused.
I fought my smile and took pity. Licking slowly across her plump bottom lip, hinting at what I wanted and waiting for her to take the bait.
She stiffened. But just as quickly, she softened, gave in, and timidly she offered her tongue. I felt it brush my lips briefly as it sought out mine.
Check fucking mate.
I pushed her away. “Did you learn that in the strip club or spreading your legs for money?”
“Excuse me?”
“I know you work for Caesar?”
“Who the hell…” she trailed off. “You think I’m a stripper?”
“And a prostitute. You saying you aren’t?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t work for Caesar.”
‘Then why were you in his club? I know it wasn’t for the entertainment.”
“How did you know I was in his club?”
“You didn’t think I’d let you go without keeping an eye on you, did you?”
“Stalker,” she hissed.
“Why were you in his club?” She crossed her arms and stared. “It wasn’t a rhetorical question.”
“If you must know, I was looking for work.”
“And you thought fucking was constructive?”
“I didn’t know that was part of the job description.”
“Bullshit.”
“I didn’t!”
“You have ears, don’t you? Even I’ve heard of Caesar’s back door dealings.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter because I didn’t get the job. I blew it.”
“Literally or figuratively?”
She shook her head with disgust. “I hate you.”
Chapter 29
ANGEL
I stepped from the black town car that arrived without warning and made my way up the steps. I knew the call would come, but I was hoping I’d have more time and more answers. I had an hour car ride to prepare myself for this meeting and spent the last twenty minutes smoking when my mental pep talk failed.
Grey, the Knight butler, stood by the doors waiting to open them on my arrival. The Knight estate was a massive symbol of the wealth my family had stolen over generations. It was three times the size of my father’s home and a century’s worth of our family’s dark history. Only with the death of The Bandit was the estate inherited by the next in line. Since my father died before his time, it never passed from my grandfather.
Grey escorted me to my grandfather’s bedside. Alon Knight was seventy-five years old and required formality as a sign of respect. The butler announced my presence before bowing and taking his leave. I stared at the man who rejected weakness even as his body grew old for all to see. He sat ramrod straight, his white hair meticulously brushed, and his aging face relaxed with the impression that control was still his.
“I’m disappointed, Grandson. You should know better than to keep me in the dark.” He stirred his tea and took a sip. “The book is missing.”
“It is.” I wasn’t surprised he knew. He had eyes and ears everywhere, and I didn’t doubt one of his sources was among my men. He should only hope I never identify him because not even grandfather could protect him.
“Do you know who is responsible?”
“I’m working on it.”
He continued to sip his tea without sparing me a glance. “I assume you mean Theo’s daughter?”
It was a struggle to remain impassive. Grandfather knowing she was the one to steal from us sealed her fate. Mian’s death was as sure as if God personally commanded it. “She’s a person of interest.”
“Meaning?”
“I have her, and she’ll be dealt with when I have answers.”
“You’ve had her for nearly two weeks now. You haven’t recovered the book, and she isn’t dead. What are you doing with her?”
“I’ve interrogated her. Her story remains the same.”
“I see. And how many times have you satisfied your cock while you were interrogating her?”
“I haven’t fucked her, Grandfather.”
“Maybe you should. With your cock’s needs out of the way, maybe you’ll focus on the fact that six generations and our future could be in the hands of the highest bidder as we speak.”
“I’m not fucking her,” I growled. He finally looked me in the eye.
“The anniversary is in two weeks.”
“I’m aware.”
“You have until then.”
“Pardon?”
“Mian will die the night of the celebration, book or no. How painful her death will depend on her.”
The front door crashed into the wall, but I didn’t stop. I heard the loud echo of my hard footsteps, but I didn’t stop. Lucas and Z emerged from the kitchen with shocked expressions, but I didn’t stop. Nothing but answers would stop me.
I could barely muster enough calm to get the key in the lock, but when it gave, I pushed open the door and was surprised to find her waiting. She looked ready to do battle, and I wouldn’t keep her waiting.
“No more fucking around. Where. Is. The. Book?”
“For the last time, I don’t—”
Her voice trailed off with each foot of space I closed between us. With her throat in my grip, I backed her up until her knees hit the end of the bed and gave out. I followed her down and covered her body with my own. My hips settled between her legs as if they belonged, and I could feel my heart pound in rhythm with hers. We are both so fucked.
“Do you understand what’s going to happen here? You’re dead if we don’t recover my family’s book… you may be dead even if we do.” The truth of my words strangled me.
“What’s the matter, Angel? Are you so eager to kill me or afraid you might have to?” I stared into the jade of her eyes and found myself wondering about the answer. “Be a man and kill me already so you can move the fuck on. I don’t have your book,” she sneered, “and even if I did, there’s no hurt you can unleash, no pain you can cause, no threat that will shake me.” Her head rose from the bare bed and when our lips were in danger of meeting she stopped. “So fuck off.”
The smile I bared snuck up on me, and I could tell it took her by surprise, too. Her shiver shook me all the way down to my cock. I was already moving before I could stop myself. Upon her perfect pink lips, I delivered a kiss of death.
“Then let the games begin.”
Chapter 30
MIAN
“I’ve been searching for your waistline ever since I stitched my first dress. You could use a little more hips, however…” Madame Torre roughly palmed one of my breasts. “And a little less here.”
I fought myself from prying her fingers from my body. Not when Angel watched me so closely.
“Or I can just love my body the way it is.”
She scoffed and continued to take my measurements. I was sick of being turned and prodded. I woke up that day to Angel’s threats heavy on my mind. His threats weren’t new. I’d even come to expect them, but this time felt different. The control Angel normally possessed was gone.
Even more unusual was when I was taken downstairs where a tall, flame-haired woman, who was dressed for the runway, waited with her two assistants, Ricardo and Ricardo. The first Ricardo was tall and thin with light brown hair styled in a Mohawk. The second man was short and muscular with a thick goatee. Lucas whispered to me when she dismissed me to fawn over Angel, that she never kept assistants long enough to learn their name, so she named them all after her ex-husband. I didn’t know whether to hate her or feel sorry for her.