Page 100 of Crown of Lies

“Killian might like to bathe fully clothed, but that’s never been for me.”

I chuckle as he strips off his clothes, my eyes appreciating the view. There’s something both vulnerable and powerful about Atlas like this, all his scars and tattoos on display.

He slips into the bathtub behind me, the water sloshing around us. I lean back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. His arms wrap around me, and I let out a contented sigh.

There’s a lightness in my chest that feels suspiciously like hope. It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself to feel anything like this, to let my guard down even a little. But here, in this moment, with Atlas’s steady heartbeat against my back, I can’t help but feel that maybe things could be different.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on my skin, and I close my eyes, savoring the sensation. The tension from earlier has completely dissipated, replaced by a comfortable intimacy that feels both new and familiar at the same time.

29

KILLIAN

I siton the edge of the bed, a familiar weight in my hand. Sharpening my knife is a comfort, a familiar ritual. I run my thumb along the razor-sharp edge, feeling a vicious sense of satisfaction as I remember the vengeance I delivered with it last night.

The blade bites into my skin, a thin line of red welling up, and I smile. It’s sharp enough. I’ll make sure it stays that way.

My mind wanders back to the warehouse, to the hands I chopped off for touching what’s mine. Ours. I didn’t count how many, and it doesn’t matter. One bastard’s hands on Quinn is one too many.

The memory brings a dark pleasure, but it only lasts a few seconds. My thoughts drift to Quinn, and the knife feels almost forgotten in my hand.

Last night with Quinn… that was something else. Seeing her like that, with me and my brothers… it was a fucking rush. I start sharpening the knife again, almost as an afterthought.

She always knows how to get us going—a filthy mouth on her, always pushing for more. But last night, seeing her with Atlas and Nico, the three of us taking what we wanted… That was a whole new level of good.

I remember how she looked, caught between us, her eyes wild and her body glistening with sweat. Her breath hitched as we touched her, tasted her, claimed her. It was fucking beautiful.

I picture her face, the way she used to look when she tried to get herself off with those toys of hers. Back then I didn’t really understand why it wasn’t enough. Now I know the fake cocks and vibrators couldn’t give her what she really craved. They were never going to be rough enough. Dirty enough. She’d known it, and I’d seen the disappointment in her eyes.

Even when I fucked her at the club, I thought I was giving her what she needed. I’d fuck her hard against the wall, my hand around her throat, her nails digging into my back. I’d watch her come undone, thinking I was satisfying her deepest desires.

But now I see it differently. Last night, when we all had her… that was something else entirely. The way she moved between us, her body trembling, her voice raw as she begged for more. It wasn’t just about getting off anymore. It was about being completely consumed, possessed by all of us.

Maybe that’s what she’s always craved. To be shared, to belong to all of us in a way that goes beyond just fucking. The thought sends a jolt of heat through my body, and I feel myself getting hard.

It’s a heady realization, knowing that what we did last night might have fulfilled something in Quinn that I never could on my own.

But I know things are still complicated as fuck between all of us. Especially between Quinn and Nico. I’ve seen the way they look at each other, the barely-hidden desire just as strong as the hurt.

I guess it’s always been simple for me, in a way. Quinn is like this bright flash of color in a world that’s mostly shades of gray. I can’t explain it, but I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Everyone else just blends into the background. They’re dull, predictable. But Quinn? She’s vibrant, unpredictable. A force of nature that demands attention.

The door creaks open, and there she is, as if my thoughts summoned her. She walks in and immediately fills the room with her presence. My eyes are drawn to her, taking in every detail.

“Just talked to Nico,” she says, perching on the edge of the bed. “He and Atlas are out, trying to smooth things over with that contact for the temporary clubhouse.”

I nod, setting my knife aside. “How’s that going?”

“Seems promising.” She pauses, a small smile playing at her lips. “But that’s not the interesting part. Remember that guy Nico shot and sent back with a message?”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Well, turns out he actually made it back to the Young Killers alive. Delivered the message before he kicked the bucket.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “No shit?”

Quinn nods. “And get this—Nico was right. The message was received loud and clear. The gang’s falling apart without a leader. Sounds like a good chunk of them aren’t too keen on going up against both Enigma and Carnage.”

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