Page 65 of Brazen King

“Oh?” He smiles, his eyes brightening. “Tatiana’s usually the one coming to me with strategies, but if you have an idea, I’m allears. What did you have in mind?” He clasps his hands, resting them on his desk as he gives me his undivided attention.

“Well, I’ve thought about it a lot, and maybe…I don’t know, I just wonder if it might not make more sense to actuallyconsideran alliance with the Kings. They’re a powerful family and clearly capable of making our lives hell if they want. An alliance would strengthen our position overall and put an end to all the shenanigans Killian has been throwing our way. Plus, if Killian is asking formyhand in marriage, that means he’s not after Tatiana’s inheritance, which is what we were worried about to begin with…”

My voice tapers off as my father’s expression shifts from keen interest to brooding disapproval. But he doesn’t flat-out reject my idea, which means he must be considering it.

“It is odd that he chose to speak with you last night and didn’t even bother talking to Tatiana. If his goal is power, he took an unusual approach—rather ineffective, really, though I wouldn’t credit the Irishman with being exceptionally smart.”

His lips twitch with amusement, but I know that as much as he likes to pretend Killian is a rash idiot who’s easily outsmarted, my father doesn’t take him lightly. Killian has proven a more-than-worthy opponent since he rose to power.

But humor is a good sign. My heart skips a beat at the possibility that Papa might not be completely against a marriage alliance. Then, my feelings for Killian wouldn’t be such a betrayal to my family. In truth, they mighthelpus rather than being a source of conflict.

My flicker of hope is short-lived, however, as his scowl returns in full force. “I just don’t trust the Kings,lapochka. Especially their leader. That man has been nothing but a thorn in my side, and clearly, he’s making a grab for power. He’s done nothing but reinforce that plan since the charity ball. Have you forgotten what he said that night?”

My heart sinks, and I fight back a fresh wave of disappointment. “No.”

But while my father looks relieved by my concession, I’m not done yet.

“Look, I get where you’re coming from, Papa,” I say cautiously, tiptoeing into my next point. Because I don’t want to reveal that I know far more about Killian than I should. “But even if Killiancanbe an abrasive person—and I’ll admit he seems to enjoy pushing people’s buttons—he hasn’tactuallyattempted to claim our territory, has he? As far as I can tell, he’s just being a nuisance.”

Surprise registers in my father’s eyes, as if it’s the first time anyone’s pointed that out.

“Maybe I’m just not privy to all the details,” I continue, “so correct me if I’m wrong, but has he causedanylasting damage to our operation or men?”

Once again, he takes time to consider my words, and in the silence, hope dares to flicker inside me. But after a lengthy pause, my father shakes his head. His eyes darken as he frowns.

“It doesn’t matter what his intentions are,” he growls. “Killian isn’t worthy of you regardless.”

“Papa—” I object, but he cuts me off.

“No man is,lapochka, but especially not that crass, pompous Irishman. He insulted our family publicly—at your mother’s charity event, no less! He disrespected you and your sister, threatened ruin upon our family, and suggested that I’m too old and feeble to protect you for much longer. He’s done nothing to ingratiate himself since then, and he had the audacity to waltz into our home last night and spout the same nonsense about marrying one of you. I won’t have it.”

My heart plummets, and I swallow back tears as my father steamrolls into another fiery rage.

“No, Natasha, if you truly want to serve your family, you’ll kill the bastard so we can be done with him. I don’t care how good his security is or how many times you have to go back. I want him dead. Besides, the world needs a reminder of what happens when you mess with the Sokolovs. He’s trampled on our good name long enough.”

The disappointment that crashes through me is unlike anything I’ve felt before, and I fight to keep the emotion from my face as I rise. “Very well, Papa,” I murmur.

And I flee before I give it all away.

29

KILLIAN

Intrigued, I step out of the bright sunshine and into the air-conditioned luxury Queens hotel. Owned by none other than Lucian Agosti himself, it’s dripping in the same opulence the Italian don is known for.

It’s a pretty place—if you’re interested in all that posh snobbery. While I like comfort, I’m not overly concerned with the rest. I prefer a good view, a hardy meal, and a fiery Russian woman in my bed. One particular Russian woman, that is.

“Mr. King,” Lucian says, striding toward me in his finely tailored Italian suit and custom Florentine leather dress shoes.

He buttons his charcoal suit jacket, looking perfectly at ease as two men flank him silently.

As he reaches me, he extends a well-manicured hand. “Welcome,” he adds. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting.”

Taking in the impressive lobby once more, I grasp his offered hand, then meet his sharp hazel eyes. “Yes, whatisthis meeting about?” I ask.

He smirks. “Cutting right to the chase, then. Join me in my office?”

He gestures to a bank of elevators, and from the corner of my eye, I catch Lance’s scowl of disapproval. But we came all this way. I might as well hear what he has to say. And if I don’t like it, or if the Italian tries something, I can kill him.

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