Page 29 of Then We Shatter

“That seems to be a detail your uncle failed to disclose.”

“Would you like a list of all my past lovers?” As the niece of Vasili Barkov, that list isn’t particularly long. Shorter still if you exclude the men Vasili killed for sullying his prized asset.

Shit. I’m thinking of Killian again. Damn it, Shorty. You need to stop haunting my thoughts.

Eric sees the tears welling in my eyes and his huge fucking ego misinterprets it. “Don’t look so worried, Katarina. I guessed at your age you’d have a past. You haven’t let me down. We learn and we move on.”

When he leans in and presses his lips to mine, his tongue slides over the seam of my mouth, but I don’t open up for him. He pulls back and I catch a glimpse of annoyance before he turns towards the remaining dresses on the rack. He sifts through them efficiently and makes his selection.

“This one,” he says, thrusting it into my arms before turning to leave.

The lace dress is weighed down with crystals, but their sparkle isn’t enough to pull my attention from the gift bag Sasha left. I have a very bad feeling about it.

Chapter 11

Killian

Before

Ifind Dad sitting at the kitchen island with a glass of whiskey in one hand and an empty pizza box nearby. His eyes are bloodshot, but his features brighten when he sees me.

His palm rasps against stubble when he rubs his face. “Good to see you, son.”

I remove his suit jacket from a nearby stool and take a seat. “Have you not been to bed yet?” It’s a rhetorical question. It’s seven in the morning and he looks beat. “Has there been trouble?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle without you,” Malachy says, entering the kitchen with perfect timing.

Lorcan is shadowing him and gives me a nod before heading for the coffee machine. Malachy helps himself to a whiskey from the bottle Dad left out and takes the seat opposite me. Always the fucking opposition.

"What’s been happening?” I ask, still addressing Dad.

“Just a wee bit of bother at the Prism,” he says, referring to one of our strip clubs. It’s closest to the Strip and is one of our most lucrative. “A gang of fucking motorcycle wankers were trying to move in on our patch.”

“They call themselves the Big Fish MC. Or they did,” Malachy says, laughing to himself as he rolls up his sleeves. His white button-down is sprayed with flecks of blood. “Pricks.”

“They’ve been harassing a few of our girls,” says Dad. “They just needed knocking down a peg or two.”

“And you had to be there to do it?”

Dad glares at me. “Are you saying I’m too old?”

“No.” Maybe. “But you are too valuable to risk getting injured in a brawl.”

“Worried he’ll be out of action and you’ll have to stop fucking around with the Russian bitch?” asks Malachy, eyeing me over his whiskey glass.

Lorcan sets down a cup of coffee in front of me and holds my gaze. Once he’s sure I’m not about to explode, he retreats to a corner of the kitchen where he can avoid entering the conversation.

“I need to show my face more, Killi,” Dad says. “I don’t like that people think I’ve lost my edge.”

He’s still sore after my comment about sitting back and letting the Barkovs invade our territory. I’d said it in anger, but there was some truth in it. He can’t be seen to give ground. There’ll be no sitting back and relaxing until the day he steps down as head of the family. Malachy’s right, I’m in no rush to relieve him of that burden.

“You proved you’re still a force to be reckoned with when we killed Ilya,” I remind him.

“The Griffins did that,” he corrects.

“Only because we were there to back them up. And if I’d known how Ilya treated–” I snap my big gob shut. If I’d known how Katarina’s half-brother had killed her family and let other men in his command abuse her, I would have got to him first.

“How he treated Katarina…?” Malachy suggests. His ability to read my mind is getting on my fucking nerves. “What would you have done, Killian? Killed him yourself? Or would you have protected him now you’re in bed with the Russians?”