Page 82 of Arrogant Bastard

Killian

Faith gasps and flinches away from me. Her eyes are wide pools of dread and growing anguish. “What?”

I kill the panic crawling up my spine. “What the fuck are you doing?” My teeth are clenched tight enough to make my jaw hurt.

Fionnella ignores me and turns to Faith. “And you, B? Did you tell him that I was the one who helped you get away from him in Cairo?”

It’s my turn to flinch. My turn to be sucker punched so hard that I think my lungs may never work again.

But our Sunday-school-teacher-turned-torturer isn’t done. “Does he know about—?”

“Stop it! What the hell do you want?”

The raw demand in Faith’s voice sobers Fionnella. She plucks her glasses off her face and absently cleans them with the corner of her sleeve. Her grimace is laced with contrition when she glances at us. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to wreck your happy little bubble. I really don’t. But giving that a-hole what he wants isn’t the answer. Also, keeping secrets never ends well, so I suggest you two deal with that. Later.”

I drag my gaze from Faith’s, my heart sinking at the suspicion and agony I see in her eyes. I know that look is reflected in mine.

So many fucking secrets. Will we get the chance to make things right?

“What. Do. You. Want?” My voice is an icy blade that cuts through her bullshit.

Fionnella slides her glasses back on. “Say no to the demand,” she says briskly. “Let him think you’re the arrogant, asshole billionaire he imagines you are. Hell, take it a step further. Taunt the heck out of him.”

“For what fucking purpose?”

“To lure him out. He’s desperate. We need him to make a mistake. Tip his hand as to who the mole is.”

“You want to risk Faith’s safety to catch your mole? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Killian—”

“Hell, no,” I snarl before Faith can voice whatever unacceptable argument she’s about to offer.

She says it anyway. “Think about it! Sleazebags like Galveston are the worst kind of traffickers. They’re addicted to their product. You give him the fifty million, you’ll be jump-starting his operation again. He’ll throw bigger parties than the one he threw in Cairo, with more children. He’ll bribe more people to look the other way. You may protect me, but you’ll be condemning countless more people to hell.”

Fionnella nods approvingly. “What she said.”

Jesus. Their twin truths grab and lock into me. No matter how much I reject it—because dear God why would I readily put her in harm’s way?—I know denying Faith this will haunt her forever. Possibly even end us, if our secrets haven’t done that already.

But still I shake my head because the idea of letting Galveston within a mile of her is unthinkable.

Fionnella leans down and hits the play button again.

Galveston’s voice filters through. “And you personally owe me too, Knight. Don’t think I don’t know that you pulled that little stunt in Cairo three years ago. You have forty-eight hours to get me my money.”

The screen goes black.

“What does he mean by you owe him? What little stunt?” Faith demands.

I glance at Fionnella. Although I get the feeling she knows, she keeps her mouth shut. For once. I shove my hands into my pockets to keep them from punching something. As confessions go, this one isn’t so bad. “I bought the Cairo resort through a dummy corporation six months after the incident. A few months after that, I burned it to the ground.”

Faith’s mouth drops open. “You what?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t hard. A gas explosion, it was reported. It’s in the middle of nowhere. By the time the firefighters got there, it was gone.”

“What about the agent?” Faith asks into the silence. My heart twists at the ragged pain in her voice. A glance shows her lips pinched in a thin, white line. She’s blaming herself for this.

Fionnella doesn’t reply.

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