Ravenous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #4)

12. Killian

CHAPTER 12

Killian

R ules were meant to be broken. And wars were meant to be waged.

And as I gripped my aching balls, I decided this woman—my woman—was meant for both. I strode into the nearest server room and hacked the hotel surveillance systems.

Emory fucking DiLustro was about to be taught a lesson.

I sent a message to the one man who was a stickler for rules to ensure I would have an upper hand with the ultimatum I was about to spring on Emory DiLustro.

I rolled my jaw, images of the dark-haired woman in red invading my thoughts. I was used to having the upper hand, yet with Emory, everything had somehow spiraled out of control.

In fact, it began the morning she fled the scene while I was still sleeping.

A part of me wished I was no longer attracted to her. But no matter what she put me through, lies she told me, or deeds she committed, I couldn’t get my dick to cooperate whenever I thought of her.

Damn organ.

Although, no man with two working eyes could blame me. Long legs. A sparkle in those dark eyes. Lush pink lips. And those noises she made while I fucked her… Six years later and they still seared my ears.

Quickly sifting through the screens, I finally found her. I zoomed in, seeing her sitting in an office with a man who was clearly wearing a disguise. Fake mustache. Fake glasses. I’d wager that his hair and eye color were fake too. But you couldn’t fake your bone structure.

While I watched their exchange, I snapped a photo of the man and ran it through facial recognition. While waiting for his identification, I wished this hotel’s low-grade surveillance system came with audio too, because whatever was going on in that room, you could cut the tension even through the screen.

My phone beeped. I glanced at it and surprise hit me at the results of my search. Atticus Popov.

Fuck.

I dialed up Danil as I stared at the screen, trying to make sense of what Emory was doing with Atticus. Something was definitely fishy about this whole thing.

“What’s up?” was Danil’s greeting.

I got straight to the point. “What’s your father doing with Emory DiLustro?”

A heartbeat of silence passed. “He shouldn’t be doing anything with any kingpin, let alone the Syndicate.”

“He’s in a one-on-one meeting with the woman.” He let out a string of curses. “Friend or not, Danil, if Atticus fucks with her, he’s a dead man.”

The words were so firm and final, it surprised me.

“Am I imagining things or did you just threaten my father for a woman who conned you into thinking she was dead?”

A sardonic breath left me. “You’re not imagining it.”

“Why?”

The reasons were fuzzy, or maybe I was simply not willing to admit them, but I owed my friend nothing. One thing was for sure though: nobody was allowed to touch Emory.

“Because I said so.”

Danil’s chuckle filled the line.

“You know my relationship with Atticus is fucked up, and while you’re free to deal with him if he hurts your woman”—fuck, why did labeling Emory as my woman make me want to pound my chest?—“I would recommend you reevaluate why a simple conversation has you wanting to kill my father.”

“Shut the fuck up, you pain-in-the-ass cunt.”

“What? It’s not like I go around threatening every man who talks to my future wife.”

I scoffed. “Right, because eliminating them before they even get close is better.”

“I needed a hobby.” He let out a heavy sigh, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Now tell me what you need from me.”

I knew I was right to call him. He was always up for sticking it to his father, but even more than that, he was a good guy. Yes, he had some dubious qualities, but we all did. No judgment here.

“Can you find out what business he has with Emory?”

“You got it.” Two heartbeats passed before he asked, “And what are you going to do with her?”

“I don’t know.”

But even as I uttered those words, I knew it was a lie. I’d make her my wife, then play with her, punish her, torment her. Just as she’d done to me for the past six years.

But first, I had an anonymous message to send.

It took me an hour to sweep the entire hotel for her, on a mission to get answers. After her meeting with Atticus, she disappeared into the women’s bathroom, but then as if aware of every camera in the hotel, she dodged them and disappeared.

I, on the other hand, had every exit watched and knew she hadn’t left the building.

And bingo.

I found her seated in one of the private VIP rooms, her shoulders and back in a straight line as she glared at her uncle, Frank DiLustro.

It’s on .

Unbeknownst to Emory, I had sent a little note to Frank DiLustro, cluing him in on his niece’s extra-curricular activities and her meeting with Atticus. Anonymously, of course. Knowing the Syndicate’s stand on Atticus and what he represented, Frank’s reaction was as expected.

“That’s a direct violation of the rules,” he roared, his face purple. “Do you even understand what you’ve done?”

Her lips curled into a smile as she brushed a lock of hair from her face. “I run Vegas; I decide the rules there.”

“You run Vegas for the Syndicate,” he bellowed, and I wondered what exactly she had done to earn such a reaction from her uncle. “If the Syndicator learns what’s happening there, you’re a dead woman.”

Her jaw tightened, and despite not losing her cool, there was no mistaking something resembling fear when she spoke her next words.

“Like I said, I’ve got it under control.”

Frank shot a withering look at her.

“It certainly doesn’t look like it. Human trafficking. Organ trafficking. A shipping crate full of dead girls.”

“I’m going after the organization responsible.”

“The organization that you made a fucking deal with, Emory. Human trafficking is strictly forbidden in the Syndicate and you know that.”

She shrugged. “Why don’t you worry about your own affairs, and leave Vegas to me. You had your time, now it’s mine.”

“You wouldn’t be so brave if your father was alive.”

Slowly, too slowly, she swallowed, her throat bobbing up and down, but she kept her composure.

Her lips twisted. “But he’s not. And if you mention this to anyone, you won’t be either.”

Jesus Christ. The woman had balls. I couldn’t help but admire the way she uttered her cold threat.

“That’s it. It’s fucking time.” Emory raised one eyebrow, and just as she opened her mouth, he cut her off. “It’s time we find you a husband, someone to take over Vegas. An Italian will do.”

“I will never marry.” Furious determination laced her soft voice, and something about her conviction pissed me off. “And certainly not someone you deem appropriate, considering your fucking record.”

Frank released a puff of air before jumping to his feet. “We’ll see about that.”

He stormed through the exit door on the opposite side of the room.

It was then that the true Emory appeared. Now alone—as far as she knew—her long exhale filled the space as she slumped back into her chair. Her fury vibrated from her, but there was also a hint of loneliness.

“Are you going to continue eavesdropping or come in, Killian?”

It didn’t surprise me she knew I was here. After all, you didn’t become a kingpin by being soft. She was a threat to people. A ghost that came back to haunt me. I masked my thoughts behind dead eyes and stepped forward, refusing to let her see the effect she had on me.

As I closed the distance between us, she stood and turned to face me. Again, I was struck by how tiny she was. The top of her head barely reached my shoulder.

“What gave me away?” I asked.

“I could smell your cologne.” She lifted her chin, locking eyes with me. “I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me.”

“I’m not.” I totally am.

“Okay, let’s say I believe it.” Eliminating the distance between us, she dug her fingers into the lapel of my jacket and asked in a low tone, “What do you want?”

“You.” Fuck, that answer shouldn’t have been so easy. So decisive. Yet, it was the truth.

“And if I give it to you?”

My dick turned rock-fucking-hard, but I knew nothing with this woman was easy or simple. The fire in her eyes as she looked at me promised temptation and destruction.

But as we stood there, I was tempted to ignore it all and repeat that night from six years ago. To sink inside her tight heat until she panted and screamed my name, letting me have my way with her.

The vivid images turned feral with each passing second until I remembered how that night ended.

“I should have elaborated,” I said nonchalantly, despite the fucked-up way my dick twitched. “You as my wife.”

Her hand dropped to her side and her lips parted while the rage in her eyes turned molten.

“Never.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but her words were a fucking blow to the chest.

It was my turn to close the inch of distance, her chest brushing against my abdomen, searing me.

I bent my head and placed my lips by her ear. “You and I have unfinished business, álainn .” She moved her head back slightly, her nose almost touching mine. “Unless you want Syndicate blood on your hands and your own family coming after you for recent… events ”—I cocked a brow at her knowingly—“I suggest you rethink your answer.”

Our gazes collided, and I saw something flash.

Something good and breakable and real that I’d seen in her eyes a lifetime ago.