Page 57 of Christmas Mafia Prince
Adorable.
“And that’s why you need me. I promise to always make sure you don’t get in trouble,” I whisper and kiss his lips as he rests against me, relaxing after our fuck. “But tomorrow, I want to fuck you while you’re wearing a jockstrap. I’m going to bring in the most trophies and lay them all at your feet,” I promise, imagining his eyes shining at the sight of me.
Then I realize it’s gruesome, it’s too much, I’m too much.
But Killian pulls away with a soft smile just for me. “You will. More than Titus, or Alexandra, or anyone else.”
Just like he promised, he accepts all of me.
He’s the one.
Chapter 21
Killian
There’snothingunusualaboutChristmas morning at the Van der Horn home, other than the opulence of the decor and foods. The family gathers around the main tree in their pajamas and robes to give each other presents. I’m surprised none are particularly extravagant, but when I ask Damen about it, he informs me that people give one another bigger presents inprivate, and that this public display of holiday joy is meant as the great equalizer, so everyone gets sweets or joke gifts.
Even Corvus is summoned from wherever he’s been hiding, but he makes sure not to look at me or Damen. Good.
The staff reveal a huge foldable screen, and the main room transforms into a cinema showing holiday-themed cartoons, but after a late breakfast, the kids are all spirited away to the playrooms upstairs while the adults return to their rooms to change and prepare for the event of the year.
Considering that Damen has adorned me with expensive clothes and accessories already, I did not expect the present waiting for me. But my man has thought of everything, and soon I leave our quarters with a new Vivienne Westwood watch sitting around my wrist. I don’t really have anything to offer him, but he promises to collect what’s owed to him in kind, and we leave it at that. All the Van der Horns and their spouses gather in the smoking room, and once Karl establishes we’re ready, he heads off toward the same passage Damen showed me yesterday.
The only reason I’m not freaked out about being led to the cellar among some of the Van der Horns is Damen’s presence at my side. I’ve never experienced such trust for another person before, and it’s especially strange given how short our time together has been, but it’s been so intense. From the night we met, we were rarely apart, even to the point that I don’t miss my phone because the man I’d want to message is at my side anyway. Damen sometimes shows me photos of Whiskers with our mafioso cat sitter, who dresses my pet in a new hat every day.
As soon as we go down the stairs and I meet the stern gaze of Damen’s great-great grandfather, all thoughts of Whiskers are forgotten and I’m thrust into a reality where “Jingle Bells” is no longer playing in the background, and the scent of cold concrete persists instead of pine and cinnamon.
I now regret stuffing myself full of various delicacies, because the anxiety is making me nauseated.
Damen leans toward me and squeezes my hand. “I’m here. Sorry Dad’s making you come see the prisoners again, but he claims it’s necessary.” I can guess Damen’s opinion about that from his voice.
But I’m also aware how much he wants to take part in this hunt, how long he’s waited, so if a tour of the cellars is a step I need to take to make that happen, so be it.
Yesterday, we never reached the end of the corridor, since I’ve seen enough of this prison to understand its contents. Today though, we go all the way in this silent procession including only one woman—Alexandra, Damen’s sister. I’m guessing it’s because she takes part in the hunt and is involved in the illicit family dealings.
At the very end, Karl leads us into a tiled room, which reminds me of the well of death I fell into in the maze, but it’s much bigger. I hate everything about it. With everyone walking in, it becomes claustrophobic. I feel surrounded, and I swear the people gathered are stealing glances at me, which makes some sense. I’m the new person here. The fresh initiate who might start freaking out over nothing.
It takes me a moment to realize that this space is some kind of shower room, which makes me wonder how long the prisoners are kept in the basement to need showers, but I’m not about to ask.
Karl turns to me, making my heart rise to my throat. “Pick a number between one and eight.”
Damen groans and puts both hands on my shoulders, standing behind me. “Dad. What is this about?”
Karl’s gaze moves from me to his son. It’s unnerving how much they resemble each other, though on the other hand I can anticipate that my man will be hot late into his life too. “It’s timeto find out whether you made the right choice of husband. If he is to be a part of this family, if he is to know all our deepest secrets, he needs to prove his loyalty. So, Killian. A number between one and eight.”
“S-six?” I clear my throat, intent on not stuttering next time he asks me about something.
Karl gestures at Titus. “Bring number six.”
Damen’s fingers clench on my shoulders, and I get the sense that nothing good will be happening in this room. But I can’t prove those people right by being a weak coward unworthy of my husband.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Damen asks through gritted teeth. “He’s not the one taking part in the hunt.”
“But if he is to become part of this family, to bear the weight of what it means to be a Van der Horn man, he needs to commit!” When Karl pulls out a gun, I recoil and hate myself a little when Titus sniggers behind me.
He’s dragging in a man in jeans and a ripped T-shirt. He must be one of the prisoners I didn’t get to see. And I chose him. A random number. I won’t be deluding myself by looking for alternative explanations for this. I already know that I’ve marked this man for death.
All that keeps me going is the belief that the prisoners all did terrible things before ending up here.
