Disgust rolled through him. “Sophia hasn’t even graduated high school.”
Lorenzo shrugged. “And a wedding would have been a lovely graduation gift. We could have been so good together, Killian.”
“No, we wouldn’t have been. Even if I wasn’t looking to shed the… less savory aspects of my empire, I never would have done business with a man willing to sell his underage daughter to the highest bidder. You disgust me, Lorenzo.”
“Ah, well, I suppose it’s a good thing for me I don’t concern myself with the opinions of dead men.”
All around him came the soft snicks of guns being readied, and he couldn’t help himself.
He laughed.
“You really think I would meet with you without some kind of insurance policy?”
“Oh, you mean the men you have stationed outside, ready to take their shot? Go ahead. You’ll be dead before they can pull the trigger.”
“No. I mean this. Reagan?”
His sister set her phone on the table and tapped the screen before turning the device toward their host. Her voice was perfectly calm, perfectly steady when she spoke. “This is a live feed from our cousin Tiernan. He’s been keeping an eye on your wife and your daughter for us while we met with you. If he doesn’t hear from us within the next five minutes, he’ll make a call to his brother.”
At the mere mention of Lochlan, every bit of color drained from Lorenzo’s face. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” Killian assured him, though it cost him dearly to say the words. “You say I don’t have the stomach for the game any longer, Lorenzo, but you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m getting out because I know exactly what I’m capable of. But go ahead. Find out for yourself just what kind of man I really am.”
Reagan tapped her phone again and a countdown appeared in bright red numbers. Sweat broke out on Lorenzo’s forehead as he watched the numbers count down.
Come on. Don’t be a dumbass. Don’t make me pull the trigger.
They were down to the final minute when Lorenzo waved a hand. “Let them go.” He smirked, a triumphant glint in his eye that had Killian’s blood running cold. “He’s too late to save his whore, anyway.”
Shoving away from the table, Killian strode for the front door, yanking his phone from his pocket as he walked. But before he could dial the number, his phone rang and his heart slammed against his rib cage, panic and terror clawing at his chest. “Brody. Where’s Aria?”
“Safe. We’re on our way to Dr. Winters to get her checked out, but it’s just a precaution.”
Yanking open the car door, he slid into the backseat, his sister right behind him. “Reagan and I are coming to you.”
“Roger that. You want to talk to her?”
“Yes.”
The sounds of shuffling came through the speaker as the phone was handed off, followed by Aria’s voice, shaky but undeniably alive. “I’m fine, Brody’s just a worrywart.”
Relief made his head spin, and he had to close his eyes against the tidal wave of it threatening to drown him. “It’s his job to be a worrywart. You’re not hurt?”
“No. Two people got hit, but we’re fine.” Her voice shook, but not with fear. No, it was anger, pure and righteous and burning-hot making her tremble. “There were children there, Killian. We were in broad fucking daylight and they shot at children.”
His own fury threatened to boil over. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon.”
“I’m on my way to you now. Aria…”
“Yes?”
I love you. The words stuck in his throat and he had to swallow hard to speak past them. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You weren’t the one who shot into a room full of innocent bystanders. Just promise me you’ll make sure it never happens again.”
“I promise.”
