Page 35 of Christmas Mafia Prince
Killian’s eyes meet mine, and they’re filled with pure terror. He doesn’t say anything, just latches onto me with a sob. I don’t waste a second and pull him up. Into my arms and out of the saws’ reach as they continue at their deadly pace. I roll into the snow, holding him to my chest, and we both shake, as the grind of metal meeting metal announces the saws would have reached him at this point.
“What is that?” Kill chokes out, breathless and shaking as if he jumped into a frozen lake. “I don’t want to die!”
“No… no, baby, you aren’t going to die,” I whisper, hugging him to my chest. “I’m here. I’ll protect you,” I say as the roar below continues.
His nape smells of raw fear, and my soul boils over, because this couldn’t have been an accident. The traps are usually cut off from electricity to prevent situations like this, and that means my sister sent the man whom I brought here as my husband into the maze knowing what would happen.
Or was it someone else who activated the trap at the right time for Kill to fall into it?
I will rip the fucker who did this apart, but for that I need to get back into the house.
No one messes with what’smine.
Killian can be rude, forceful, opinionated, I’ve seen all that firsthand. But now he’s shrunken, crying, clinging to me as I get up.
“I’m sorry. For whatever I did!” he sobs as I pick him up because he doesn’t seem capable of walking.
“You did nothing wrong, baby,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead as my feet carry me toward the entrance. Hemumbles something in response, but between the sobs and his attempts to crawl inside me, I can’t understand what he’s saying.
Fury is a red hot presence in my chest, and I will have vengeance, but my boy comes first, and I’ll protect him from every predator there is, even those carrying the same name as me.
I kick the door open and enter the hall to astounded stares from my aunt and uncle chatting on the stairs, but I head straight for where the men are gathered. Because I don’t think my sister activated the traps. She was too busy with the kids and wouldn’t have enough time to go through with such a plan if she tried.
My brother on the other hand had the time, opportunity, and a very clear motive.
I enter the smoking room, and my gaze wanders straight to the fireplace, where Titus is in the habit of standing during informal meetups like this one. When he spots me, his eyes bulge, white and round as twin ping-pong balls. I recognize the shock passing over his face for what it is before his features return to their usual neutral expression.
“Damen?” Father asks, frowning at me from his favorite chair, and I’m about to shake them both when Killian sobs once more. I keep forgetting how fragile and in need of my care he is. He might have street smarts and a big mouth, but he’s not used to the level of insanity at the Van der Horn house.
Colin steps inside in his immaculate uniform, but while he stalls at the sight I make with my man curled up against my chest, he doesn’t lose his usual professionalism. The man used to work at Buckingham Palace and has since been employed by my family. This can’t be the oddest thing he’s ever seen. “Would anyone like some te—”
I step close and deposit my darling Killian in the butler’s arms, because I know he can’t stand being without human touch at thismoment. He looks at me but doesn’t protest when I give him a reassuring nod.
If I don’t deal with Titus right the fuck now, I might explode, so I turn to my brother like a bristling wolf.
“Why are you looking at me like that? What’s this new drama?” Titus points at Killian, but I see the flush on his face and the vein bulging on his forehead.
He was the one to activate the fucking traps.
I don’t answer his stupid questions, just head through the room like an icebreaker with Titus as my target. Corvus rises from the couch right before I grab Titus by the collar and smash him against the wall.
“How dare you? He’s my husband! You’re supposed to protect him with your life,” I roar and smack away the fist flying my way. I’m about to deliver a punch of my own when a strong arm closes around my wrist. But that won’t stop me. I kick Titus’s legs from under him and send him onto the floor. It is a shame his hand doesn’t land in the lit fireplace, because now I’ll have to kick him in there myself.
“Damen! What is this?” Father yells, but it’s like a blur on the periphery of my vision while another arm tries to pull me back by the waist.
I still manage to swipe my hand over the mantelpiece and throw the whole array of family mementos on Titus, including a vase that smashes on his head. It’s filled with Mother’s potpourri, which instantly catches fire.
“He tried to kill my husband! He activated the traps in the maze! You motherfucker!” I once more rip forward and kick Titus in the stomach as three men pull me back as if I’m a rabid bull.
“Damen, you can’t know that. Calm down,” Father shouts, but I’m already seeing red, and he can’t tame me by keeping his voice level. He’s trying to flaunt his fatherly authority, but howwould that work, when his own marriage is a failure, and I’m too old to be chastised like a child.
“I won’t be calming down! I’m going to kill the motherfucker! You hear that, Titus? You’re dead!”
Corvus pulls me back again when I escape his clutches for half a second. “You don’t want to kill your brother, Damen!”
Titus starts screeching, and at first, I think he’s in hysterics. It takes me half a second to realize his hair caught fire from the potpourri-bombs. I just have to bark out a laugh at his suffering.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Aspen yells, grabbing another vase off the mantelpiece.
