Page 67 of King of Depravity

I step closer, my finger coming right in his face. “I know my value, Triston. I’m not just the dirty man. Your deals go through because of my intel. I am the key to your money machine.”

I see him wince and I know he knows I’m right. “But if she talks…”

“She won’t.”

“She might. And if she does, you’ll have to be prepared?—”

I bump my chest into his. “Don’t make me fucking choose, Triston. You won’t like what happens next.”

His nostrils flare, his lips thinning, before he steps around me. “You’d choose pussy over your own family?”

I swing but he’s ready and he blocks my punch.

“You’re not listening. She is my family. And if anyone, and I mean anyone, tries to hurt her, the consequences are going to send the whole of Vegas crashing down.”

A frustrated rumble rips from his mouth before he pivots toward the door, stomping toward it. He slams it shut as he leaves.

For a moment I stare at the door saying a lot of really nasty words under my breath. But that’s when I hear it…the whir of helicopter blades.

I turn my head, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the loft when the copter comes into view.

Helicopters are everywhere in Vegas, taking tourists on scenic aerial tours of the city. But this one drops down right in front of my windows.

And then it turns to the side, a gunman standing in the open door of the bird. My heart slows as my gaze locks with the gunman.

I only have one second to jump behind the island before he opens fire.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

Killian

The shatteringof glass fills the loft as bullets strike all over the room. I watch drywall explode on the far wall, hit the cabinets, splinter the tile backsplash. All I can do is wait and hope I don’t get hit.

I hear Chloe’s scream and I let out a feral roar. If anything happens to her, I will tear Vegas apart brick by fucking brick until I’ve laid the entire place to waste.

Any man responsible will suffer the worst and most heinous death imaginable.

My door flies open and Tris appears, a pistol in his hand as he crouches low, he returns fire.

I can’t see if he hits anyone or even the helicopter, but the machine gun firing ceases, the helicopter taking off into the sky.

I don’t wait. Pushing up, I sprint through the kitchen and down the hall, throwing open the bedroom door.

“Chloe!” I yell into the silence. The windows are unbroken, but I realize I’m holding my breath when she stands from the other side of the bed.

“Killian,” she sobs, her hands over her red face.

Closing the distance between us, I pull her into my embrace. Her arms and legs wind around me, her face burrowing into my shoulder as she lets out a wailing sob. Her fingers thread into my hair, her body heaving.

I hear the crunching of Tris’s footsteps. They stop in the door. Chloe’s still in just my shirt. I look over my shoulder to glare at my brother as she begins to shake uncontrollably. “Get me a blanket,” I snap at my brother.

He does as I command, pulling the comforter off the bed and spreading it over Chloe’s back himself.

“Sweetheart,” I murmur. “It’s all right.”

“Are-are you h-hurt?” she stutters out.

“No. I’m fine.”

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