Page 56 of Tragic Empire
Armani blinks. “You want to leave?”
“You’re definitely not going anywhere without us,” Colton declares.
I thought they would say as much.
“Well, come along then.” Looking down at my guard dog, I offer him a soft smile and a pet to the head. “Sirius, follow.”
“I need to know where we’re going,” Armani says seriously.
“We’re visiting my husband,” I tell him innocently. “There seem to be some men who think they can question him about my willingness to be his wife. I heard him on the phone this morning, and he’s being accused of holding me hostage. Do I look like a woman being held against my will?”
“You look like a woman with murder in your eyes,” Colton counters, standing from his seat at the kitchen counter. “I love it.”
Slapping his cowboy hat on top of his head, he pulls a handgun from the back of his jeans and begins to check its magazine for ammunition. Armani sighs and begins to do the same, racking a bullet into the chamber before holstering it once more. Now if there’s any sort of trouble, he’ll be quick to draw and fire.
“If I’d known you wanted to stir up trouble looking like that, I would have dressed better,” Armani grumbles, strapping a knife around his ankle.
“You look lovely,” I argue.
Armani is always dressed well, even for hanging out around the house. Today he’s wearing fitted black trousers and a silk button up with the sleeves rolled up to display his many arm tattoos. While Colton is wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark henley, he still looks put together enough to be by my side as well.
“Don’t let Cassio hear you say that.” Colton chuckles. “Armani prefers his pretty boy head attached to his shoulders after all.”
My heart drums an excited beat at the implication. I’m thrilled Colton seems to think that Cassio wouldn’t like me complimenting other men—though I have no true attraction to Armani. But I think if I heard my husband telling another woman she looked lovely, I’d want to remove her head as well. I’m still digesting these new emotions I seem to have brewing for Cassio, but I know they are utterly possessive ones.
With my two new friends prepared to leave, we step into the elevator and hit the designated red button. The Kings don’t always have meetings in this building’s private basement, but they have been convening there more often than not as of late. With security concerns, it’s best for Cassio to be as close to the penthouse as possible.
As we begin our slow descent, I feel my hair being swished to the side.
“Finally showing off that back piece?”
My eyes flick over my shoulder at Armani, a smile playing on my lips. “Been curious about it, have you?”
At this point the two of them have seen several glimpses of my back tattoo, since I don’t cover all of my skin while casually existing in the apartment. But I’ve never entirely revealed it, I’m not even sure that Cassio has gotten a full look.
“Oh, I’m always curious about clean lines and saturated black,” Armani answers, eyes scanning the artwork. “This must have taken at least ten hours. How did it feel?”
“She probably sat for it like a champ,” Colton muses. “Women take tats so much more peacefully than men.”
“It took twelve, and it only hurt a bit over the spine,” I mention, smiling with pride.
Colton arches a brow, sensing the hint of wickedness in my choice of attire. “And is there a reason you’re choosing to finally display it?”
“The men will understand,” I reply cryptically, returning my eyes to the chrome elevator doors. A second later, a small ding sounds, and they part, revealing a cold cement room filled with Kings’ soldiers.
Whatever conversation that may have been occurring halts immediately, and all eyes land on me. A rush of anxiety I didn’t expect, nor do I appreciate rushes through my veins. It’s violently uncomfortable, but my need to keep up appearances is stronger.
Tilting up my chin, I waltz over the threshold, feeling Sirius trot along by my side. A makeshift aisle of shifting bodies reveals Cassio, sitting in the Monarch’s chair, Gerard sitting to his left. I’ve been in this room before, and seen Bron in that very chair, with Killian standing to his right—as it was meant to be. But Cassio doesn’t look out of place, he looks just as powerful and regal as the man who takes the throne should be.
Ponytail shifting to one side of my neck, my tattoo becomes a sort of message, flashing all of the subjects behind me. Few have seen it before, but all are aware of what it means.
The delicate skin of my back is almost entirely covered by a large black viper, the snake featured in the Knight family crest. I got the piece when I finally decided to be with Cole, not for him, but to cement myself as a true Knight. I wanted anyone who saw it to know that I wasn’t just Brons stepdaughter, or Cole’s potential love interest, I was a princess amongst The Kings, and they would do well to remember it.
Cassio’s fiery gaze rolls up and down my body and I suppress a shiver, feeling an undeniable heat pass between us. With only a few more purposeful steps, I’m standing just in front of him as Colton and Armani shift to the side. The two of them give me space to work, while still keeping a very obvious eye on me.
My husband has his eyes on me too, scanning my face for some sort of assurance. Giving him the subtlest of nods, I let him know that I’m okay, despite the awful anxiety brewing in my stomach. I will no-doubt spiral into some kind of panic after leaving this room, but it will be worth it.
Mollified enough, Cassio leans back in his seat, a silent invitation I don’t hesitate to accept. Sitting down slowly on his thighs, I cross one leg over the other, and narrow my eyes at the crowd in front of us. They’re the reason I’m here, disrupting what could be a peaceful day with childish antics. I wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable without being surrounded by unfamiliar faces, any of which could have had something to do with Cole’s death and Killian’s assault.
