“We’re where?” I ask, looking around.
He lets out a heavy sigh, and as he cuts through the long grass, I begin to see the concealed opening cut into a hill. “What the fuck?” I breathe as we walk straight into the dugout and come to a huge metal door that looks capable of protecting the people inside from a missile strike.
Killian steps right up to it and leans in, and I watch in surprise as his eyeballs are scanned like some kind of entry code. “Okay, James Bond. Are we about to walk into your secret headquarters?”
Killian grins as the massive door begins to open. “One can never be too careful.”
“One can definitely be a little too extravagant though,” I mutter as we stride through the entrance into what I can only assume is the massive lobby area of what seems to be more of a safe mansion as opposed to a safe house. “I thought we were walking into some fancy bunker, not an underground estate.”
“Wait until you see the pool.”
I roll my eyes. Why am I not surprised? Though, I can’t help but note how fucking moronic Sergiu must be to use one of the DeLorenzo safe houses in order to hide from the head of the DeLorenzo family. Bad move on his part.
A seriousness comes over him, and it occurs to me that both Sergiu and Monica are here somewhere, and at any moment, they could jump out at us. “Do they know we’re here?”
“No, the surveillance cameras were looped before we arrived, and the alarm will only sound if the retina scanner is activated by anyone other than me. We’re good.”
The underground safe mansion certainly isn’t anywhere near as luxurious or big as his home that I’ve become accustomed to, but it’s certainly nothing to turn your nose up at. The finishings are exquisite, and it’s clear that whoever was in charge of building this masterpiece did so with every bit of their heart. I could only dream of affording a home like this.
The polished marble and gold hand railing on the staircase are stunning, and the seating area that’s centered around an open fireplace is jaw-dropping. Homes like this simply don’t exist, and yet Killian has it basically unused, sitting here under a hill.
Killian goes quiet, and instead of giving me verbal directions around the mansion, he points to where he wants me to go, and I can only assume we’re getting close.
I’m not sure what the plan is, and to be honest, I doubt Killian knows either. We’re just making it up as we go, but what I do know is that one of the occupants of this mansion poses a significantly larger threat than the other. And while they both deserve a horrific ending for what they’ve done to me, I think it’s safe to assume that one of them will receive a much quicker death than the other.
As if on cue, we turn into the open living room, and sitting right there, completely immersed by The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills is the woman who beat me in a bathroom and hired a hitman to take me out, only I suppose she didn’t anticipate everything becoming this messed up.
There’s no telling if she was the one behind the idea of sending me back to Ezekiel to be sold, but it’s clear that Sergiu was the one who had the connections to make it happen.
Killian pulls out a gun, and I arch a brow, not having realized he was carrying it, but I suppose it makes sense. A man like Killian DeLorenzo doesn’t go anywhere unarmed. Even when he’s in bed, there’s always a weapon close by.
He pulls something from his pocket, and I watch as he twists it onto the top of his gun, and I realize it must be a silencer, which makes me realize that if I’m going to be a part of Killian’s life, I need to learn this shit . . . and fast.
Killian motions for me to follow him deeper into the living room, and as I do, he hands me the gun. My eyes widen as I take it from him in shock. I didn’t realize that he wanted me to play any kind of role in this. I thought I was just along for the ride. Though, maybe I am. There’s no telling what plans are pulsing through that wicked brain of his.
We stop a few feet away from Monica as she continues watching her show, completely unaware that she only has moments to live. Killian moves in behind me and adjusts my stance, widening my legs and lifting my arms until the gun is pointed directly at the back of her head. “If she tries to run,” he murmurs into my ear. “Shoot.”
I swallow hard and nod as the nerves creep in, but all I can do is watch as he strides around me and brazenly approaches her. He sits right on the back of the couch as though he were invited for lunch, and only after he clears his throat does she realize she’s not alone.
Monica whips around, her eyes wide as she takes in Killian sitting a foot away from her, and when she turns her gaze to take me in, the horror on her face makes everything worth it. “No,” she breathes, making it clear she didn’t expect me to last the night with Ezekiel.
Killian lifts a single finger and holds it to his lips, warning her to remain silent and as she visibly swallows and her eyes fill with terror, she does as she’s asked. That finger moves, indicating for Monica to stand, and like a trained robot, she lifts herself off the couch, not capable of moving her stare from his.
She’s his captivated audience, and it only goes to show the kind of power he wields. It’s both fascinating and terrifying, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. A man in his position needs to be. He needs to terrify the very people he rules over so things like this don’t happen. But Monica and Sergiu got too comfortable, and they foolishly believed they were above Killian’s law.
Killian stands and slowly walks around the couch until he’s standing right behind her, and now that he’s stepped out of her line of vision, her gaze settles on me, and for the first time, I know what it’s like to look directly into the eyes of death.
“You see my beautiful wife?” Killian murmurs, his voice barely sounding over the TV. “Do you know what happens to people who harm those I love?”
Monica’s body visibly shakes, but she doesn’t dare try to run. She knows her fate, and while she might be terrified, she’s also accepting of it.
Then, being the kind man I know him to be, he raises his hands—one curled around her chin and the other at the back of her head—and with a violent twist, he puts her out of her misery, refusing to drag it out any longer than necessary.
A horrendous crack sails through the room, and just like that, Monica’s lifeless body falls to the ground.
Killian’s gaze comes directly to mine, making sure I’m okay. This death wasn’t like the others I’ve witnessed so far. This was different. It wasn’t bloody and reckless. There was nothing wild or brutal about it, just . . . simple. It was a woman, and while she did terrible things to me and deserved a million deaths, it sits uncomfortably inside my chest.
My gaze falls to her lifeless body as Killian comes to stand at my side. “It’s over, Angel,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. “She can never hurt you again.”