Page 13 of Knuckles & Knives
“Can you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re in way over your head.”
“Then maybe you should mind your own business,” Kieran interjects smoothly, clearly enjoying the conflict he’s created. “Raven is perfectly capable of making her own choices.”
Dom’s attention swings back to Kieran with laser focus. “Her name isn’t for you to use.”
“No? And who exactly gave you the authority to speak for her? Last I checked, Vincent Blackwood was dead, which means his daughter answers to no one.”
Dom steps up to Kieran, so close I’m shocked Kieran doesn’t slip back a step.
Fuck me. Dom might as well have said that I answer to him, but his actions alone suggest it, and that possessiveness hangs in the air like a thrown gauntlet. I stare at Dom in shock, seeing him not as the protective enforcer from my childhood but as something more dangerous. More claiming.
“Actually,” I say coldly, “I don’t answer to anyone. Not you, not him, not the ghost of my father’s expectations.” I turn to face both men, letting them see the steel that’s been forged in five years of planning and rage. “I am not a prize to be won or a princess to be protected. I am Vincent Blackwood’s daughter, and I will reclaim what belongs to me with or without anyone’s permission.”
The silence that follows my declaration is deafening. Around us, the crowd continues to celebrate and drink and place bets on the next fight, oblivious to the powder keg of tension crackling between the three of us.
Kieran recovers first, that infuriating smile spreading across his perfect features. “Magnificent. Absolutely magnificent.” He straightens his cufflinks—definitely a nervous tell—and takes a step back. “You’re going to be so much more interesting than I anticipated.”
“Glad I can provide entertainment.”
“Oh, you’ll provide much more than that.” His ice-blue gaze flicks between Dom and me, cataloging the tension there with obvious satisfaction. “This is going to be quite the show.”
He turns and walks away without another word, melting back into the crowd with the same effortless grace he used to approach.
“You’re making a mistake,” Dom says quietly once Kieran is gone.
“Which one? There are so many to choose from.”
“Getting involved with him. Playing his games. Thinking you can beat him at his own strategy.”
I turn to face Dom fully, noting the way he’s positioned himself between me and where Kieran disappeared. Still protecting even after I’ve made it clear I don’t want his protection.
“What makes you so sure I can’t beat him?”
“Because he’s not playing the same game you are.” Dom’s expression is granite-hard, carved from years of violence and loss. “You want revenge. He wants to own you, and men like Kieran Frost always get what they want.”
The chill running down my spine has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with recognition. Part of me—the part I don’t want to acknowledge—responded to the possessive heat in Kieran’s gaze, the promise of something dark and consuming in his touch.
“Then I guess I’ll have to disappoint him,” I say finally.
Dom studies my face for a long moment, searching for something I’m not sure I want him to find. “Just be careful, Raven. The girl I used to know had a good heart. Don’t let this world burn it out of you.”
“That girl died the night her father did,” I reply, echoing his earlier words. “What’s left is someone harder, someone who can survive in this world.”
“Maybe. But surviving and living aren’t the same thing.”
Before I can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving me alone in a crowd of strangers with the weight of his warning pressing against my chest.
Around me, the night continues its descent into beautiful chaos, but all I can think about is the heat of Kieran’s touch, the protective fury in Dom’s eyes, and the wild promise I saw in Axel’s grin.
Three very different men. Three very different kinds of danger.
And I’m walking straight toward all of them with my eyes wide open because sometimes the only way out is through the fire.
CHAPTER 5
Looking around me, I quickly decide that my next step needs to be negotiating entry into the inner circle, and my best bet to do that is through Marcus.
It doesn’t find me long at all to find the man. He’s roughly six feet tall, maybe thirty, thirty-one. He notes my gaze, and I tilt my head toward his office. He nods.
