“Damn right I would have.” For once, Lochlan didn’t look amused. He looked just as pissed as Brody, likely because this incredibly vital information had somehow slipped past him.
Killian had absolute faith it wouldn’t happen again.
“Back up for a moment, big brother.” Reagan’s gaze zeroed in on him. “Why were you breaking off your engagement?”
“Weren’t you listening, Rae?” Sneering, Lochlan waved a hand in Killian’s direction. “He found out Williams is cavorting with the Russians behind our back.”
“No. He said he was already planning to break off the engagement. Why?”
Every gaze in the room locked in on him and it was only the years he’d spent training himself not to outwardly show any emotion his enemies could use against him that kept him from shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “That’s the other bit of news I wanted to share with you. I’m going to be a father.”
Silence, so complete it felt as though the sound had been physically sucked from the room, greeted his announcement.
“Portia is pregnant?”
“Keep up, Loch,” Reagan said mildly, her voice deceptively even. “If it was Portia, he wouldn’t be breaking off his engagement. So who is it?”
It wouldn’t be Portia, anyway, because he’d never touched her. He’d meant it when he’d called their engagement a business arrangement. He’d never so much as kissed her, never mind had an opportunity to knock her up.
But there was no reason to get into the weeds on that front. Just like there was no reason to beat around the bush about the identity of the mother of his child when they’d find out soon enough. “Aria Elliott.”
It was, surprisingly, Murphy who spoke up. “Braden Elliott’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“As well as Desmond and Sebastian’s niece.”
The reminder that Aria had not just one but two uncles who, although retired from the force, could still make their lives a living hell, had Killian fighting back a wince. “The one and only.”
Leaning back in his chair, Murphy let out a long, low whistle. “When you screw the pooch, you do a damn thorough job.”
“I’m aware. There’s the added complication that she hates my guts and doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
Reagan’s lips curved, but there was no humor in the gesture. “I like her already. Bring her to Sunday dinner.”
“Did you miss the part where I said she hates my guts?”
Reagan lifted a shoulder in a totally unbothered shrug. “Kidnap her if you have to. Or have Lochlan do it, he gets off on that kind of thing.”
Down the table, Lochlan sat up straighter, his eyes lighting with excitement. “Just tell me where and when, boss.”
It could be necessary, down the road. But for now, he was going to have to disappoint his cousin. “As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, I can handle her just fine on my own. She’ll be here for dinner.”
“Good.” Reagan gave a sharp nod. “What’s her favorite food?”
“I don’t know. We weren’t exactly making small talk the last time I saw her.”
“I’m glad you can make jokes when we’ve just lost our one good prospect for the docks and found out he’s in bed with the Russians,” Brody ground out. “This is serious, Killian.”
“I’m aware.” And getting really fucking tired of repeating myself. “But thankfully we haven’t signed any contracts with Williams, so it should be a clean break.”
“Unless he decides to make trouble.”
“If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t.”
Brody shook his head. “He’s got the Russians on his side, he might be feeling brave. We can’t let our guard down.”
“Fair enough.” Casting his gaze down the table, he locked eyes with the as-yet silent twin. “Tiernan, keep an eye on Williams. There’s always the possibility he’s in bed with others as well.”
