Page 91 of King of Depravity

“Killian.” I smack the back of his hand. “You can’t start a brawl in an art gallery.”

“Your show would make the papers.”

My mouth parts, my eyes huge for a moment before I laugh. He’s not wrong… “Let’s not test that statement. No fighting.”

He rolls his shoulders. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you.”

He pulls me close. “I love you and I’m proud of you.”

“I love you, too.” I draw in the rich scent of his cologne, the portrait I did of him hanging next to the door.

Bullet holes still litter one side of the piece. Killian claims they’re fitting. It makes the canvas a little tattered, just like him.

But for me, Killian is still my world. My universe. And as long as he’s in it, no matter what happens, I will always be filled with his beautiful starlight.

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