Heartless Knight (Sins of Knight Mafia Trilogy Book 2) Page 4

  “The sister was there. It seemed friendly.”

  “Seraphina?” I gawked.

  “I need to put full surveillance on Crew, starting tonight. I had to let you know.”

  I didn’t like how sick it made me feel. He was my assistant. My right-hand. The only person I had offered to train. Other than Renee and Kimble one of the only people I trusted. None of this made sense. I gripped the front edge of the desk. It had to be Knight. What had he offered him? Paid him? Was he trying to tear my organization apart from every possible angle? And why the Vieux Carre?

  “Do it.” I exhaled. “I want daily updates. Twice a day if something comes up that’s useful. I need to know what those two are doing together.”

  Kimble nodded. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”

  “Seraphina too,” I added. “What does she have to do with this?”

  The house shook with another crash of thunder. The storm had stalled directly over the mansion. I wondered if Felicia Corban was involved too or even the Castilles. How far-reaching was the betrayal?

  “I’ll find out.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kimble walked out briskly.

  I sat in my office, trying to understand what this meant. I had to get ahead of Knight. There was no way to do that if I didn’t know what he was planning. Hadn’t he done enough? Caused enough pain? I hadn’t returned his calls or texts. Maybe it was time I offered an olive branch. Maybe it was time I turned the tables on him.

  6

  Knight

  I opened my door when I heard the first crash on the hardwood floor outside my room. It sounded like glass.

  “Mother?” I rushed toward her. She was hunched over, gripping a wine bottle in one hand while trying to stack shards of glass with the other. “Here. Move. You’re going to cut yourself.”

  I tried to extract her from the broken portrait at her feet.

  “Who put that there?” she snarled at the family photo. It was at least twenty years old.

  “I think it’s been on the wall a long time,” I explained.

  She staggered backward while I tried to make the path to her room walkable. I noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes or slippers.

  “You don’t think I know where things belong in this house?”

  I shook my head. She was drunk. Again.

  “Can I take you to your room?” I reached for the bottle in her fist. Had she stopped using glasses?

  She recoiled. “No.”

  “I need to call someone to clean up this mess. You can still cut the bottoms of your feet. Just don’t move.” I pressed my hand forward to keep her still.

  “They should have already been here,” she spat. “Lazy. Everyone here is lazy.” I heard the bottle thump on the ground as she sat on her heels. The silk robe she wore gathered in a layers at her feet.

  It occurred to me these incidents had been going on before my father’s death. I never believed she was struggling as a grieving widow. I leaned over the balcony. One of the house staff was already marching up the stairs with a broom and dustpan as if she knew what to expect when she heard the glass break.

  I frowned. The wheels had been coming off my family’s axis for a long time. Since the day Seraphina’s contract was signed. It only continued to spin farther out of control in my absence. Did my father know what he had done? Did he realize what he put in motion by stealing his children’s lives from them?

  I was sent away. Seraphina wanted to leave Brandon. My father died. My mother was a drunk. The family fortune had been drained. How the fuck was I supposed to make a dynasty out of this train wreck?

  “Where have you been?” my mother snapped at the girl.

  “I had to find the broom,” she explained, sweeping the cracked frame into the center of the dustpan.

  I lifted the portrait from the floor. It was a formal shot. All of our family pictures were. My mother and Seraphina were both in long gowns, despite that my sister was barely ten in the photograph. I tried to remember what I thought about the organization when I was fifteen. I knew it paid for expensive vacations and boarding school. I knew it was the reason my father was feared. It was the reason I had a security detail as a child. It was the reason I lost an uncle and a cousin.

  “Here.” I handed the staffer the canvas. “You can throw this out too.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t need the reminder. “Can you make sure Mrs. Corban gets to bed?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” I stepped toward my mother, but her eyes had started to close. I kissed her on the top of the head. “Sleep well. I’ll check on you tomorrow.” I wanted to ask my sister how much she knew about the drinking. Seraphina had enough going on.

  She didn’t acknowledge I had been near her. Maybe she was dreaming, or maybe she had passed out like the drunk she had become.

  I headed downstairs to the study. There was a storm that had settled over the city. The rain pelted the windows.

  The alert on my phone chimed. Who the hell was texting this late?

  When I saw Kennedy’s name on the screen I stopped moving. I had to read the message a second time.

  Now? In the middle of the night? During a storm that felt like a tropical depression?

  Did she think she could summon me like one of her henchmen? I had left messages and sent texts. I’d had flowers delivered along with her favorite champagne from Marguerite’s. She had returned everything unopened, including the apology note. I never had a chance to explain the PAC. My words were always going to fall flat.

  But maybe this meant she had taken the bait. She knew Crew had been in contact with me in public. I expected her to eyes all over the city, but I was impressed how quickly she received the information.

  I texted my response and shoved my phone in my back pocket.

  This might be the only chance I had. I grabbed the keys to one of the family cars and opened the garage door. The thunder boomed as I steered toward the Martin mansion.

  The windshield wipers swished back and forth on the highest setting. I had to watch for street flooding on my drive over. A few of the roads had already been blocked off with detour warnings. The storm was only getting worse. I sat outside Kennedy’s house. I stared at the second-floor window that used to be her bedroom. I wondered if it still was. Had she taken over the master suite? Had she converted her father’s apartments into her own? Part of me found it hard to believe she still lived in the mansion. She had never liked it much.

  The house was dark except for the flickering gas lamps on either side of the porch. I didn’t bring my detail with me. I was alone. If this was the moment Kennedy decided to take me out instead of call a family truce, there was nothing I could do.

  I was stupid enough to take the fucking chance it wasn’t an ambush.

  I pushed the driver side door open and ran into the rain. It streamed down my face. The cold droplets soaked into my shirt.

  I pounded on the front door. I wasn’t surprised when Kimble opened it.

  He glared at me. “Yes?”

  “Kennedy is expecting me,” I explained. I wiped the water from my eyes, making a move to cross the threshold, but he blocked me.

  “Wait here.”

  I growled. “There’s a hurricane out here. Let me in now, Kimble.”

  He let the door swing wide.

  “Thanks.” I walked into the foyer.

  “You need to wait. I’ll see if she’s ready for you.”

  I shook the water from my hair.

  “This way.” Kimble reappeared from the dark hallway. I expected to be escorted into the downstairs office, but he climbed the stairs.

  A trail of water marked every step I took. Kimble turned right then left before making another turn. I didn’t know this part of the house. He pushed open the door. A light shone through the brief crack at the entrance.

  “You can go in.” I thought the look he gave me was a warning. It always was. How many ti
mes had he wanted to kill me with his bare hands?

  I walked past him, aware that the door was closed behind me on my way into the room.

  “You made it.” Kennedy stood. Her long legs, revealed by the opening of her dress. Or was it a robe? It was flowy fabric that cut in a deep V and tied with a belt. I’d always been amazed at how she could pull off elegant, casual, and sexy at the same time. Tonight, was no different. I had to drag my eyes away from her legs.

  “You do realize there’s a tropical depression out there?” I shoved my hands in pockets, realizing too late that even they were soaked.

  “Maybe you should change.” Her eyes canvassed my clothes. “It looks like you’ve been in the pool.”

  “I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

  She shrugged. “I have something I’m sure.” She crossed the room with graceful movements and began searching through a walk-in closet. She emerged with a set of dry clothes. “Here. You can change in the next room.” She pointed me to the bathroom.

  “I don’t think I need to change,” I argued.

  “You should.” There was no room for disagreement. “I’ll give you a minute.”

  I clasped the folded clothes. I didn’t want to know who they belonged to. Did she keep a closet of men’s clothes? A few minutes later I was at least dry. I hung the wet shirt and pants over the tub.

  “Better?” I asked.

  The wind howled outside the window. It was possible the storm was picking up speed. The wind gusts seemed stronger and more sustained.

  “Yes.” I saw the way her eyes flickered quickly before she looked away.

  “I’m glad you wanted to talk. I didn’t expect it to be the in the middle of this.”

  “Why wait?” She smiled. “I don’t think business should be put off.”

  “All right. Let’s put it all out there.”

  She made her way to the bar across the room. The fabric caught the tops of her thighs when she walked.

  “Drink?” she offered.

  It was clear I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ll have whatever you’re pouring.”

  I studied her back while she dropped ice cubes into the glasses. “What rooms are these?” I asked.

  “I did some remodeling a few years ago,” she explained, turning to present the drinks. “I combined two suites to make this apartment.”

  “It’s nice. It suits you.”

  “Does it?” Her eyebrows raised.

  “Sophisticated. Feminine. Expensive.” I smirked. “I think so.”

  “Thank you.” Her pink lips raked over the glass when she took a sip.

  “I got your note the other morning when you left.” Her eyes shot to mine. “And the necklace,” I added.

  “I’m glad you brought up BONO.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about the PAC. I want to apologize for how you found about it. We could talk about that part.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Apologize? How are you going to do that?”

  “I just did. I’m sorry. I need those senators for one of my projects. It wasn’t supposed to be personal. I see how you took it that way.”

  She laughed. It caught me off-guard. “If I took every backroom business deal personally, I wouldn’t have the position I do.”

  “Hmm.” I stared at her. “So none of this is personal? Refusing my calls? Rejecting the flowers I sent? The champagne gift? The necklace?” I licked my lips. “The fucking necklace, Kennedy? It doesn’t get more personal than that.”

  “I didn’t want it anymore.” She turned from me.

  “That message was received.” I walked toward her, looking through the window at the storm. The lights flickered with another burst of lightning and thunder. She jumped. “Do you have a generator if you lose power?” I asked.

  “It was overloaded in the hurricane last month. The replacement hasn’t been installed.” I heard her voice, but it was as if she was somewhere else. Her thoughts were on the rain or the streaks of lightning.

  “I’m going to light some candles. Okay?”

  She stood still while I struck matches and lit the tapers lined along the fireplace mantle. I made sure to light the ones on the coffee table and next to the bed as well.

  The roof shook and the power surge lasted longer. I knew there was no way the power would last. Not in this kind of storm. Had she known that all along?

  “There. I think we’re good,” I announced.

  “No, Knight. We’re not good.” She faced me. I saw the fury in her green eyes. It was layered with hurt and distrust.

  “I was talking about if the lights go out.”

  “I know. But that’s not why you’re here. I don’t need you to light candles, check my flashlight batteries, or make sure I’m safe in a storm. I pay people to do that.”

  “I don’t need to be here.” It was obvious this was some kind of game. An angle. I’d said I was sorry. It wasn’t going to be enough. Tonight, wasn’t the night to reach her. It was going to take more time, and it wasn’t going to happen when she looked like she could eat me alive. “I hope you make it through the storm, okay. I’ll let myself out.”

  “No,” she snapped. “Not yet.”

  My hand had barely touched the doorknob when a peel of thunder rocked the entire house and the lights faded. The flames I had lit danced around the room. There were enough to make the entire room glow.

  I inhaled. “What’s this about?”

  “Trust,” she whispered.

  I slowly turned around. “Trust? All right. I get it. You don’t trust me. You found out about the PAC the wrong way. It was a betrayal. I understand. I betrayed you. You can’t trust. Don’t you think I know that?”

  She shook her head. “No. I want to know if you trust me.”

  She slinked toward me. I swallowed, wondering if when the power grid went down, another switch had been flipped—something inside her was different than when I first walked in the room. Her eyes were dazzling. Seductive.

  I reached behind my back and turned the lock on the door.

  “I guess that depends. I trust you not to cheat at poker.” I winked as I stepped toward her.

  “When have we ever played poker together?” she asked.

  My hand landed on her hip. My fingers instinctively curled into her waist. Our eyes met and I wondered if she had let go of the anger or if it was still there beneath the surface.

  “I don’t think we ever did,” I answered.

  Her chin tilted upward. “What if I told you I knew what you were doing?”

  I shrugged. “I’d be fine with that.” I brushed the hair off her shoulder. “You know the big secret.”

  “I’m not sure I do.” She bit her lower lip and I fucking lost it.

  7

  Kennedy

  How many times was I going to do this? How many times could I handle it? Was I going to be able to keep the plan together? The house rattled the same way my nerves did—from one corner to the other. It wasn’t the thunder. It was Knight. His eyes. The heat radiating off his body. His lips. The candles bounced our silhouettes around the room. There was darkness. Darkness in his gaze. In the air. Danger invaded everything we did. How did I forget the threat he posed? The threat of letting him walk out again. The threat that the world we knew could be washed away tonight.

  Could I shut the gate in my mind between what I had to do to save my organization and the part of me that was drawn to him? Was that gate reinforced with enough steel to keep the division intact? I knew the games he played. I thought I knew them well enough to write the script for this night. So, why was I struggling with my emotions now? I had a plan in place, and it was faltering quickly. Twenty minutes ago, I was certain.

  But Knight moved around my body with familiarity that no other man had. He brushed the hair from my shoulder, and I doubted just how detached I could become from the way my skin fired when he touched me.

  It only took one hint. One suggestion. The slightest offer of my lips and Knight’s
mouth crushed mine. His eyes had betrayed every intention he had before it happened. The impact would shatter me, but the way Knight kissed always surprised me. He kissed me like he had always loved me. As if he was trying to know me now, under layers of sadness, pain, and power. His kisses consumed me. Fed off our energy. Depleted me of resistance.

  I didn’t want to feel anything. I didn’t want to accept I had lied to myself about what kind of self-control I had tonight.

  I wrestled against his strong frame, but once his arms encircled me, I yielded to the firmness of his lips. The flick of his tongue. The tug of his teeth raking across my lower lip. I ran my fingers through his hair, still damp from the rain.

  He moved from my mouth to my neck, kissing my throat, running his tongue over my skin.

  “Knight,” I whispered.

  “Hmm?” The lightning flashed. I flinched, pressing my body closer to his. “It’s okay,” he assured me. “I’ve got you.”

  Our eyes met and I attempted to figure out which of the stage of the game this was for him. He was doing the same thing, searching my eyes, trying to read my thoughts. Who had the upper hand? Who had the power?

  I shoved hard against the planes of his chest. I backed away, creating some space.

  “We haven’t talked about the reason you’re here.” I turned from him to catch my breath and take another sip of vodka. I knew I didn’t have long before the storm consumed our every move. It would control our rhythm. Define our movements. We would crash as the storm did. Roll with the waves in the ocean. Fire with the lightning. Drown with the rain.

  We had to talk. I had to find out what Crew was doing having lunch with him. And why involve Seraphina?

  “The queen summoned me, and here I am,” he taunted.

  “If only it had been that easy five years ago.” I didn’t hide how angry I was.

  “I’m not the one who walked out of the Vieux Carre.” His voice was suddenly icy, the words clipped. I was amazed at how quickly the heat rescinded. This was good. I needed ice and wind. I wanted to be washed over by the chill of his resentment. I needed the sharper side of Knight to remind me how vicious he could be.