Page 39 of Vengeful King

But this is different.

When I interrogated her, Katrina was scared. Truly scared. She sat there, gray eyes wide and brimming with terror. It’s not the way a monster looks when they’re caught.

And despite all my promises to protect my family, I couldn’t do anything to her. Not when I looked at her and all I remembered was how open she was when she kissed me, when she let me touch her.

That wasn’t a lie.

I look out the window and wonder how the hell I got here. After everything I’ve done, after all I’ve worked for, how the fuck did I let this happen?

My phone buzzes violently on the marble counter, and I reach for it, irritated. The screen has a name on it: Ezra Cross.

Shit.I haven’t been thinking about the wedding at all.

Especially not when I was kissing Katrina, parting her thighs so I could plunge into her and fuck her so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk.

I take a deep breath and try to focus on the call. Whatever the hell he’s calling about, I need him to think nothing has changed. I need him to believe me. I can’t have him doubting that this is a good business arrangement.

I answer calmly. “Hello, Mr. Cross.”

He speaks without preamble. “Mr. O’Reilly. I have concerns about the arrangements.”

“Well, as I said the last time we met—”

“I’m aware we’ll have another meeting,” Ezra says. “But this couldn’t wait.”

I struggle to stay calm. I don’t need this; I don’t need another wrench in my plans. Not when Katrina has thrown the rest of my shit out of order.

“All right. What is it?”

There’s a beat of silence. I can imagine Ezra righting himself, satisfied with the response. He doesn’t know enough about the mafia world to know our customs. I have to give him leniency, even if it’s aggravating.

“Well, it’s about the chapel,” he says. “You know my daughter isn’t getting married anywhere else. But I see in your documents that you think it’s a security risk.”

I shut my eyes, frustrated, and pass a hand over them. “As I recall, I did say it was achievable. But the security will be tight, and all rules need to be followed.”

“This is because of territory?”

“Yes.”

Territory.Like the mafia are dogs, marking territory. I clench my jaw. I know Ezra Cross is not a mafia man; he doesn’t know enough, wasn’t born into this. But right now, I don’t have the patience to talk to him. I don’t have the patience to explain why he needs to listen to me.

And I can’t let on that security is even more important now, because there was an attempt on my life. If he knew, he’d never consent to letting his daughter marry me, business or no.

“Well, that was all. It’s non-negotiable,” Ezra says slowly. “She wants this, and she deserves it.”

“I have no argument.”

Now get off the fucking phone.

All I can think about is what I should be doing to figure out whether someone else is going to come after me. I curl a hand over the edge of the counter, gripping it roughly. I can barely keep myself still.

“Well, then I suppose I’ll save the rest for our next meeting. I appreciate your time.”

“Of course. We’ll talk soon,” I say, barely grinding out the words.

I hang up and before the phone is in my pocket, I’m out the front door and in my car, peeling out of the driveway.

I have people all around the city, from the top to the bottom. Intelligence has always been important in the underworld. Having eyes and ears everywhere means having a chance to act before you’re attacked, and I value that more than anything else.

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