Page 62 of Christmas Mafia Prince
I pick him up, bracing my heart for the cry of pain that’s about to come out of that sweet mouth, but we need to go.
Killian whimpers, and I allow myself a little peck on his cheek as I drag myself to my feet. “We were betrayed. But you’ll be fine. The doctor is ready in case something goes wrong during the hunt. I’m so sorry, my darling,” I add breathlessly, stumbling toward the open doors.
I can’t believe this happened.
Titus has always been a prideful piece of shit, but I never thought he’d play this dirty.
It goes against all Van der Horn principles. Killian is family. He even proved himself today so bravely. But no, it wasn’t enough.
Sure, I wanted to win the hunt, to show Titus how it’s done, but for him to lose his mind over it to the point of assassination attempts on my spouse? Just to… what? Distract me so he can win?
When I get my hands on him, he will regret the day he was born. I will ask Corvus about flaying techniques so I can take my sweet time ripping Titus’s skin off inch by agonizing inch.
“It’s okay, baby. Breathe for me, okay?” I whisper to Kill who lets out little cries of pain. I can only hope the fucking bolt didn’t hit some important nerve in his shoulder.
Killian looks around, dazed. “But… but what about your trophy?”
Be still, my heart. I never thought of myself as a romantic, but right now I want to carve out a piece of my own flesh and serve it to him on a platter.
“You are the only trophy that matters,” I whisper and watch his eyes shut.
I dash out into the cold, and at least now I can easily follow the path to the mansion, without sinking deep into the snow. My heart is beating like a war drum, but this is a rescue mission, and I will make sure my man is safe before worrying about justice.
It’s all a blur until I open the main doors with my elbow and barge in, almost clashing with poor Colin, who raises his hands, clearly worried I might hand him a bloodied Killian and therefore stain his pristine uniform.
“Doctor,” I call out as familiar faces appear in the doorway. “He needs the doctor!”
I know where to go but still make a fuss because I don’t know how much blood Kill might have lost. I’m frantic and curse the size of this house by the time I get to the room set up foremergencies. The doctor didn’t expect one so soon, since she’s sitting in the windowsill with her phone in hand.
She’s a professional, though, and points to a padded table as soon as she spots me. It’s covered in a plastic sheet and ready for whatever might happen today.
“Get Maisy! She’s in the kitchen,” she yells to Colin who followed me here, and puts on latex gloves. “How long has it been since he was shot? Did he lay in the snow?”
I answer all her questions, and even help cut away the clothes around Kill’s wound before her assistant arrives. Everything seems to be taking terribly long, but I know what it’s like to be shot with a bullet and survive, and I’m embarrassed that the doctor has to assure me that Killian will be fine.
Despite the pain killers given to him, my poor sweet boy screams out when they pull out the bolt. I hold his hand and whisper to him as my mind comes up with vicious fantasies of Titus’s painful death.
More people fill the room, but I keep my information to myself. I can’t have anyone alerting Titus thatI know. Father arrives with his phone to his ear.
“I alerted the other hunters,” he informs me, without a snarky comment about Killian in sight. Good. He’s getting with the program at last.
Mother tries to console me in her own way, and places some crystal in Kill’s pocket, but it’s all a blur. All I care about is him. When the wound is dressed, and the doctor has given my man several different shots, I can finally calm down.
What felt like forever was maybe ten minutes, but time has no meaning when a man’s watching his beloved bleed.
As if the crowd in here wasn’t already reminiscent of a bunch of students at a medical exam, my sister barges in. She’s in her hunting gear, huffing and puffing, but still holds a folder in herhand and waves it around the room. Did she make a pit stop to do some work? What the actual fuck?
“They’re not even married!” she yells.
Chapter 24
Killian
Thepainkillersaremakingme feel like I’m floating. This might be the strangest day of my life. First, I killed a man in a weird Mafia initiation ceremony, then was set up for death and attacked, only for my fake husband to appear at the last moment and save the day.
And now all the people who welcomed me with such hesitance are crowding around us, worried for me, as if I really am apart of their family. Damen refuses to leave my side, and keeps whispering calming words, as if he’s worried I might want to leave him now.
Not a fucking chance.
