Page 64 of Brazen King

But oddly enough, I don’t think it will.

“Fine,” Lance concedes to my sister’s argument. “But having romantic feelings for one of the Sokolov girls is entirely different from the love you’re talking about.”

“How so?” Quinn demands, her naivete shining through as she crosses her arms over her chest. If she had any idea how powerful the Russians are—or how much I’ve been toying with them lately—she would never consider falling in love with Natasha a smart move.

Rather than answering her, Lance turns his attention back to me, his blue eyes full of conviction. “Boris has made it perfectly clear he’ll put your head on a spike the first chance he gets. Catching feelings for one of his daughters would only help him achieve that.”

Quinn falls silent, and I sense her studying me with fresh concern. She’s not advocating for love anymore—not now that she knows the stakes.

And Lance isn’t wrong.

Boris has plainly said where he stands.

Which means, as loath as I am to admit it, Lance is right. I’ve fallen in love with the enemy.

“I will find a way to turn this around,” I insist.

“Neither of those girls are on the market, Kill,” Lance presses.

A wicked thought enters my brain then, and a wolfish smile curls the corners of my lips. “Maybe not in Boris’s mind. But I suspect that they have a lot more say on the matter than the family is willing to let on. I just need to convince Natasha that she has feelings for me too.”

Worry flickers across Quinn’s face, and Lance shakes his head before returning to his breakfast. But both know better than to try talking me out of my newfound conviction.

28

NATASHA

I’ve been dreading this moment since I slipped back into our family penthouse in the early hours of the morning. But it’s time. I can’t put it off any longer. I need to speak with my father. And he’s not going to like what I have to say.

Steeling my resolve, I knock on his office door and wait with bated breath for a response.

“Come in,” he calls, his voice booming through the thick wood and jolting me like an electric shock.

Inhaling deeply to steady myself, I obey, turning the handle. I step quietly inside before closing the door behind me once more. His workspace is richly decorated with hunter-green paint and dark leather seats. It feels tranquil and a bit reminiscent of a hunting lodge, though he’s never gone foxhunting like the paintings would imply.

Silence sits heavily between us as he assesses me carefully from behind his desk.

He interlocks his fingers before pressing his thumbs to his lips. His sharp blue eyes cut right to the heart of it, as if he can read the guilt radiating off me in waves. “I take it last night wasanother failed attempt,” he observes, the disappointment plain in his tone.

Biting my lip, I nod and sink into the chair across from him. “How’d you know?”

“It’s written all over your face,lapochka,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own daughter well enough to see when she’s disappointed?”

Disappointed, that’s an interesting take on my emotions, though it’s perfectly justified in my father’s case. And surprisingly, I find he’s not as far off the mark as I would have guessed.

Because Iamdisappointed in myself. Disappointed that I couldn’t end Killian from the start. Disappointed that I’ve failed my father so many times I’ve lost count. Disappointed that I will continue to fail him indefinitely because, after last night, it’s clear to me that my feelings for Killian have gotten completely out of hand.

They’re getting in the way of following through with what my father’s asked.

I’ve let my emotions run away with me.

And now, I’m useless to my family—the last thing I ever wanted to be.

Which is why I’ve come in the hopes of finding an alternative solution.

I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m incapable of killing the leader of the Irish Kings. In truth, I’m dangerously close to falling in love with him. Even if that’s the last thing that I want. But it’s time to face facts and come up with a solution to my inadequacy.

“Papa, I think it’s time we discuss a new plan of action,” I say carefully, my stomach quivering with nerves.

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