Ravenous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #4)

17. Killian

CHAPTER 17

Killian

E mory’s expression was far from that of a blushing bride or woman in love. In fact, I could see bottled rage, but also a sliver of fear in the twist of her pink lips and reddening of her neck.

I’d given her a chance to keep her word, but she chose wrong. After only four days, she tried to run. Admittedly, my food shopping trip was a test. And she failed it. I’d be damned if I allowed her to escape me. Again.

I wanted her too much, and after six years… Fuck it, I deserved her.

This woman would never be docile and obedient, and truthfully, I didn’t want her that way. She was born to crush anyone who posed a threat to her, and I couldn’t help but appreciate that quality in her, much to my dismay.

Nonetheless, I was still furious at her, and at myself for allowing her to have such an impact on me.

She was dangerous to my sanity. I should stay away, keep an ocean between us, but I couldn’t. Not six years ago, and not today.

My muscles tightened as the priest blabbed through the ceremony, silently chuckling at the way my future wife looked ready to rip me to pieces.

Even mad, this woman looked stunning. Her dress molded to her breasts, lace and silk fitting her as if designed for her curves. But there was so much more to her than just her clothes or her beauty.

She was unique, so different from any other woman I had ever met.

I smiled at the thought of consummating this marriage later tonight. Again. But this time, it would be an unbreakable vow in front of God.

I might’ve fucked her like a madman hours ago, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more, so much fucking more.

“Stop staring,” she hissed under her breath then yanked herself away from me and faced the priest, her expression closed but her eyes promising retribution.

I leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Smile, Em. You’re about to become my wife. Again.”

She elbowed me with the strength no woman should have and nearly knocked the air out of my lungs.

“It’s a fucking death sentence,” she muttered so only I could hear her. “For the second time around.”

“Oh how you wound me,” I joked.

She met my eyes and shot daggers at me but said nothing else, and I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me.

The priest cleared his throat and I narrowed my eyes on him, urging him on.

“…the holy union between Killian Brennan Cullen and Emory DiLustro.”

He blabbed on and on about the importance of marriage, God, and all the angels, but none of his words really registered. My attention was on Emory alone, her tightly knitted eyebrows and her clenched jaw.

“Seriously, what are you looking at?” she snapped from the corner of her mouth.

“You.”

“This is such bullshit,” she hissed. “You’ve been staring at me for days. I’m starting to think you’re a stalker.”

“I am.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck, this is taking forever.”

“I agree.” I ripped my gaze from her, turned it to the priest, and ordered, “Skip that.”

The priest glanced between us as if he thought we were sent from the devil himself. We probably were, but that was beside the point.

He shook his head and continued. “Do you, Killian Brennan Cullen, take Emory DiLustro as your wedded wife, to be with you always, in wealth and in poverty, in disease and in health, in happiness and in grief, from this day until death do you part?”

“I do.”

The words came out effortlessly, and even though I’d practically forced the woman to marry me, they felt right. Till death do us part. Yes. It would definitely be. She was out of her mind if she thought I’d honor that two-year bullshit.

The priest turned to her and repeated the vows. “Do you, Emory DiLustro, take Killian Brennan Cullen as your wedded husband, to be with you always, in wealth and in poverty, in disease and in health, in happiness and in grief, from this day until death do you part?”

A long silence ensued. Seconds ticked by that felt longer than the years I’d spent searching for her.

Fuck.

“Miss?” the priest called.

Her expression blank, I half expected her to bolt or downright refuse.

“You realize this is just a formality, Em,” I murmured softly. “We’re already married.”

She narrowed her eyes, shooting daggers, but then said those two little words that bound her to me forever for the final time.

“I do.”

The priest continued the ceremony, asking us to exchange rings.

“We don’t have any, so skip that part,” Emory blurted out, flashing me a cat-like grin that promised this was only the beginning of her resistance.

I gripped her hand and stroked the back sensually, smiling.

“Not to worry, this time I have the rings.” I slid the ring that belonged to my mother, the only thing that remained after she was burned to ash, onto her finger slowly. “You’re mine now.”

She slid the second ring onto my hand, her expression freezing. I traced her line of vision to the tattoo on my left ring finger.

Fuck.

I had it done so long ago, it might as well have been a birthmark. A birthmark in the form of a meaningful date.

Emory raised a questioning gaze, but I grabbed her hand and helped her slide my ring the rest of the way.

“By the power granted to me by the church, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest said on an exhale. “You may kiss the bride.”

I wrapped an arm around her waist and slammed my lips to hers, nipping at her upper lip before plunging my tongue inside her mouth. She moaned and I swallowed the sound, reveling in the moment. Not a single woman had ever made me feel like Emory did. I didn’t let up, taking full advantage of the moment and ignoring the sounds of the priest packing his things up on the altar.

I finally had her in my arms with my ring on her finger. She was the only thing that mattered to me.

It wasn’t until the church’s glass shattered and a scream filled the space that I shoved her behind me and pulled out my weapon.

Right on fucking time, DiLustros.

Let the wedded bliss begin.