Page 44 of Cruel Pawn
Kavan grabbed my shoulder when he was close enough, squeezing tight. “We’ll make her pay, just give me the word. I know she’s your mother—”
A bitter, twisted laugh erupted from me.
“We’ve left her alone for years, but sending an assassin to take you out is unforgiveable.”
I shrugged a shoulder, acting casual about it. “She probably wants the money Dad left me. As far as she knows, she’s still in my will.”
Kavan’s gaze settled on me; I felt it heavy on the side of my face. “You wrote her out?”
“This morning,” I confirmed. “Now even if my wicked witch of a mother has me killed, all my worldly wealth will go to Priya.”
“Priya’s the woman you’re obsessed with?” Kavan clarified, those steady, patient eyes on me. He’d never once lost his temper with me even when he was furious, had never lashed out with wordsorfists, never even called me a name unlike the monster who birthed me.
“She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“The mercenary who was sent to kill you…”
I groaned. “You sound like Stef.”
“Stefan knows?” Kavan shoved my shoulder. “Why am I always the last to know whenever you boys meet a girl? First Damien, and now you.”
I smiled even if I was in a foul mood. I loved being one of the boys, loved being a Marshall. Wanted and accepted even if I was flawed and severely lacking in every way. “I’ll show you the wedding pics. Promise.”
“Oryou could just invite me.”
“Nope.” I ducked out from under his hand, returning to my bloodied masterpiece.
“Damien invited you to his wedding, and he only had hours to plan the damn thing.”
I waved a hand. “Let him sulk at not being invited to mine. I’ll show him the pictures, too.”
“If this is about your mother—”
“Who I don’t want to talk about—”
“We can handle her,” Kavan insisted, his voice that miraculous balance of steely and caring that only parents could manage. “Say the word, Arden.”
I clenched my jaw, not liking the hot burn in my bones, my skin, my eyes. “I can’t.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” he insisted, his eyes on me as I made quick, desperate work of emptying my victim of the rest of his insides. “Just give us the green light, and we’ll handle it. No one fucks with the Marshall family; she knew that. By sending a hitman after you, she’s just asking for retaliation.”
“Hitwoman,” I corrected, glaring at the mess of organs on the floor. I wished the bastard had stayed alive longer; I was nowhere near done. But my head was a little clearer, my mood less explosive. “A sexy, sexy hitwoman.”
Kavan snorted. “Do I ever get to meet the woman?”
“Of course.” When she’d accepted that we belonged together and wasn’t a second away from running. “I’ll bring her to the next Marshall family dinner.”
“Good. I’ll see you on Friday.”
“ThisFriday?” I winced, imagining dragging my wife there kicking and screaming. She’d stab someone. Probably Stef, who couldn’t keep his smart mouth shut. Then Damien would leap to his defence, and Vasilisa would get involved with a handgun she’d concealed in a pretty dress.ThenJonathan would join the fray, Cameo would jump in purely for the chaos, the twins would end up getting weapons from somewhere, Kavan would get hurt trying to break up the fight, and we might even rile Vincent into joining. And ifanyonehurt my girl, I’d be honour bound to shoot them. No, it would be too messy. “Maybe the next one. We have prior arrangements on Friday.”
Kavan watched me. Andkeptwatching me until I squirmed. I volunteered nothing, but his silence told me he knew something was slightly off.
“Three questions,” he said, crossing his arms over his wide chest.
I tried not to smile, but I secretly adored him interrogating me. I greedily coveted every little reminder that I was part of this family. He wouldn’t give that steely, exasperated look to a stranger; that was reserved for family. “Okay, three questions.”
“Does this Priya know you exist?”
