Page 65 of Deviant Knight

I don’t even understand what came over me. The second I saw him, I walked over, wrapped my hands around his arm, and didn’t let go until he pulled away.

He hasn’t said anything to me since last night when he was praising me and coaxing an orgasm out of me at the same time. One minute he can say the sweetest things, the next, his words are mean and leave invisible marks, but it’s when he doesn’t say anything at all or doesn’t grace me with his beautiful dark eyes that it physically hurts me the most.

I sound like a deaf, dumb, and blind teenage girl. One who has fallen for the man, or men in my case, that isn’t capable of holding their attention very long. A girl that can’t possibly sate all their needs, wants, and desires.

I shouldn’t want to be that girl, either. But I do. They don’t even know it, but they’ve given me something I didn’t know existed. They’ve shown me a different side of the world that I thought was permanently shrouded by gloomy clouds, hiding the sun and its warmth.

I’d do anything to keep this feeling locked inside and never let it go. I feel like it’s borrowed time and one day soon they’re going to wake up and realize I’m the third wheel to whatever perfect thing they already had before I was shoved in the picture.

“I don’t know who the fuck any of you think you are, but this is my house, my family, and I’m in fucking charge,” my brother spits, his face red with sweat coating his brow.

“Sorry, little kid, but it’s time to go back to daycare,” Krishna says, a smirk planted on his way too handsome of a face. “Your daddy no longer runs shit. And you’re just a boy way too far over your head.”

After Tony’s funeral, the Caputos and their men went into the church. They were gone for an hour while I sat with Krishna and Sasha in K’s SUV outside the Catholic Church.

When they all filed out, one of the men that followed them inside didn’t come back out. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened to him. He kept looking at me during the service like I was beneath him, the dirt under his boots, the vilest thing he’d ever looked upon.

After Domenico got in Krishna’s vehicle, Sasha got out, going to where Ren and Sienna climbed into another SUV that looked like Dom’s but I’m pretty sure he and Lorenzo drive the exact same make and model vehicle.

Krishna pulled from the curb while two blacked-out SUVs followed us. It was nightfall by the time we drove across the bridge and into the city. I had a feeling about where we were heading. It was confirmed when Krishna parked out front of my father’s brownstone.

He owns four of them. They’re side by side on this side of the street with another house on the opposite side, directly in front of the one he once resided in.

They didn’t dilly dally around. Domenico pulled out a handgun, racked the chamber, and then turned his head so that ours met and said,It’s time to play a game, Ciera. Then he jumped out and I followed them.

Four other men, one of them being Giovanni, got out of the other cars. The fourth guy wasn’t at the funeral, at least not that I recall, but I remember him from the bar we went to last week. He was the bartender, so I’m not sure why he’s here with them, but maybe he’s one of Domenico’s men, or formally Tony’s, and I hadn’t met him yet.

The housekeeper, slash maid, slash does whatever my father requested of her, answered the door. Domenico told her it was in her best interest to leave right then. I guess she saw the validity in his eyes because she ran like her life depended on her getting as far away as she could.

I guess it did since Dom shot the next man that came to the door. Krishna disappeared inside, then another shot was fired.

I walked in, seeing my brother running towards the back as Domenico and Krishna strolled after him.

When I stepped across the threshold inside Cormac’s office, Dom and K had weapons aimed at where my brother was backed against a set of built-in bookshelves with his hands raised. His shirt is open; there’s a gun tucked in the waistband of the boxers that snug his waist while his jeans fit looser down his hips.

“You all are the ones in over your heads. When the police commissioner finds out you were here, you all are done for. He’ll lock you away for the rest of your lives unless his brother kills you first.” A deranged laugh flies from his mouth.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, little boy,” Domenico says from where I step in front of my father’s desk as Dom walks around behind it as if he’s already taken ownership of everything that was Cormac Fitzgerald. “Ciera is the firstborn. She’s the heir to this sad excuse for a throne you thought was all yours.”

“She’s a girl.” He chuckles. “She’s only useful for one thing. They don’t get power and she sure as hell isn’t getting mine.”

“It was never yours to begin with,” I speak before anyone else volleys back with Killian. I doubt even he knows the truth. “You aren’t Cormac’s biological son. You’re the result of an affair Mom had with his second in command. It’s why Dad had him and Mom killed, but he kept you to make everybody believe he had a son. I’m his only child. I’m his only heir. And you don’t get to take what is mine.”

I don’t want anything that belonged to my father. Everything Cormac had except property was given to a charity to be put to better use than anyone else, including me.

“You’re a fucking liar, you stupid cow.”

A growl comes from Domenico’s direction but I don’t turn to look at him to confirm the noise came from him.

“There’s a book behind you—the thick blue one. Inside you’ll find the forged birth certificate with another piece of paper that shows your paternity test Dad had done. You aren’t his son but you are my brother. Half brother, anyway. I’m telling you the truth.”

“Uncle Liam should have killed you. That’s why Dad sent you to him. He was supposed to get rid of you, not keep you around to allow his friends to tear your worthless ass apart.”

I can’t hold the gasp in, too shocked by his words.

“That’s right, sister. Everyone knew.”

Without thinking, I step in front of him and lift my left hand, intending to slap him across the face as he continues spewing words that are making it hard to think clearly with the pounding he’s causing.