There weren’t many people in his life who could throw that word in his face and escape the interaction unscathed. Richard, for whatever reason, mistakenly believed he was one of those people.
Rising to his feet, Killian stared down at the man who was meant to be his father-in-law. “You seem to be under the impression I came to ask your permission. I did not. The wedding is off, Richard, and to be blunt, I am reconsidering our entire working relationship. I need some time to reconsider how we move forward after this.”
And because he was staring him down, he saw the second the mask slipped. Saw the desperate, hungry monster beneath the spit and polish. But before Richard could do more than jump to his feet, the door to the parlor crashed open. Filling the doorway was a brute of a man, tall and thick, the perfectly tailored suit doing nothing to hide the bulk of him. His face, half obscured by a dark beard, twisted into a snarl.
Nikolai Markov. Leader of the Russian bratva.
Fuck.
Keeping the sudden pounding of his heart to himself, Killian cocked a brow, first at Nikolai, then at Richard. “My apologies. I seem to have interrupted something.”
“What is the Irishman doing here?” Nikolai’s voice was like the rest of him. Thick and rough and undeniably Russian.
Richard, for his part, was looking rather pale as his gaze darted from one dangerous man to the other and back again. “Killian was just…”
“I came to break off my engagement to Portia. And now that I’ve seen the company Richard keeps, I think it’s for the best if we sever our business relationship entirely. Good day, Mr. Williams.”
A hand wrapped around his upper arm as he moved to leave. Going perfectly still, Killian slowly turned to meet Richard’s furious gaze. The color was back in his cheeks, but it was too high.
Good. Maybe he’d give himself a heart attack and save them all the trouble of figuring out what to do with him.
“Richard.” He kept his voice low, but did nothing to hide the deadly intent underneath the quiet. “If you wish to keep that hand, I suggest you remove it from my arm. Now.”
To his credit, Richard did immediately release him, though his anger still blazed hot in his eyes. “You’re going to regret this, O’Rourke.”
“The only thing I regret is ever giving you a chance in the first place. Goodbye, Richard.”
Nikolai moved out of the way as Killian stormed out of the parlor and to the front door. The second the car door shut behind him, he had his phone out of his pocket, ringing through to his second in command.
“Family meeting in twenty,” he snapped into the phone. “We have some things to discuss.”
Chapter Eighteen
Killian
Seated at the head of the long rectangular table in his dining room, Killian let his gaze travel over his gathered family. To his immediate right sat Brody, one of his cousins and his right-hand man. From the moment Killian had stepped up as the head of the family, Brody had been by his side. With a temper as fiery as his hair, Brody never could have taken Killian’s role, but he was smart as hell and never backed down from a fight.
Both were qualities their family was going to need in spades moving forward.
At the opposite end of the table was Reagan, her dark hair pulled back from her face and her dark eyes full of barely repressed fury. Even though he hadn’t yet told her about the events of the day, she clearly knew something was up and was prepared to do battle right alongside him and Brody.
Next were the twins, Lochlan and Tiernan, in the two seats down from Brody. Both looked, as they always did, more entertained than angry. When it came to doing the dirty work that often needed to be done to protect their family interests, Lochlan could be counted on to torture whatever information they needed out of a rival family with a smile on his face. Tiernan was no less cheerful about his role of hunting down Lochlan’s prey.
The fact that they were nearly impossible to tell apart aside from the scar one of Tiernan’s ex-lovers had left him with only made them that much more unsettling.
Last, seated alone on the opposite side of the table from Brody and the twins was Murphy, the oldest of all of them by nearly a decade. Despite that, he’d never wanted the top spot in the family, preferring instead to live a quiet life as far away from the ‘family business’ as he could manage. He could be counted on to look at a problem from every possible angle and point out the flaws in any given plan, but Killian did his best to respect Murphy’s wishes to be left out of the… messier aspects of the business.
Unfortunately for all of them, this was an all-hands-on-deck kind of situation. And it was about to get very, very messy.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.”
He was well aware his voice was more formal than usual, earning him raised brows from the twins and a frown from Murphy. Brody and Reagan both simply watched him, waiting for him to share his news.
“This afternoon, I went to visit Richard Williams to tell him I was breaking off my engagement to his daughter. Nikolai Markov was there.”
“He’s in bed with the fucking Russians?” The low, deadly growl came from his right. His hand clenched into a fist atop the gleaming table, Brody’s expression moved to one of pure fury. “How did we miss that?”
“I don’t know. Most likely guess is they were both just playing their cards extra close to the vest. If anyone in Markov’s outfit had known, Lochlan would have figured it out by now.”
