Page 141 of Dukes of Peril

His eyes narrow at the following silence. “Why do I feel like there’s something else?”

“Because there is. And to be clear, there’s no existing evidence to prove what I’m about to tell you. That’s been handled.” I waver for a moment, asking, “Got any more of that booze?” Killian’s face is lined with the bad kind of anticipation, but he slides me the bottle, looking wary when I use it to fill his glass, not my own.

Finally, there’s no more stalling.

“Nicky, Remy, and I…” I look him in the eye, steeling myself. “We were the Dukes who broke into the basement and assaulted Lavinia.”

Slowly, Killian lowers his glass, eyes hardening. “Excuse me?”

“It was our Duke initiation,” I explain, the confession settling hot in my gut. “Saul’s orders.”

I’ve never needed to question how he got his nickname, Killer Payne, but right now, the murderous look in his eyes amplifies it. “So when your brother came in here afterward, pretending like he was doing my bidding, Nick was actually playing me.”

“Honestly?” Sighing, I give him a nod. “Yeah, he was. I’m not going to sugarcoat it.”

“He betrayed me,” Killian says, voice low and full of uncomfortable intensity. “He betrayed us.”

I lean forward, tired but determined. “It was just for her, Killian. He wanted to get her out. It was never about pulling one over on the Lords. You need to–”

He snaps, “Do you know half of my girls wouldn’t sleep here after that night?” Tendons straining, he bares his teeth. “Do you know what it did to Story, thinking she was responsible for some other girl getting raped?” He slams his fist down on the table. “She was fucking hysterical!”

With a heavy nod, I point out, “They’re friends now. Lavinia and Story–the girls who love us.Goodfriends.” Maybe it’s a little manipulative, but it’s true. It’s hard for girls like them to find friends, let alone friends across the boundaries of territories.

And I can see in Killian's eyes that it means something to her.

Therefore, it means something to him.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He tips back in his seat, dragging a palm over his face. “When this gets out, South Side will expect me to–”

“It won’t get out,” I promise. “Saul was using the proof to blackmail us. That’s why I had to kill him and destroy it, for good.”

He throws his hands in the air. “Then why tell me at all?”

Fervently, I insist, “Because I don't want to start my reign like that, Killian. Dozens of Kings before us have played that game, and to be honest, I’m not interested. Your house–your brothers, your Lady–you’ve been good to us. Maybe that’s all political. Maybe you really did just want to put a Bruin in the belfry because it was a threat to Saul. Maybe Nick’s been your puppet just as much as you were his.” Raising my eyebrows, I add, “Or maybe we can break the fucking chain here. We’re a new Generation, Killer. It doesn’t need to be like it was in our fathers’ days.”

Inhaling deep, he pushes his fingers into his eyes, hissing, “Shit.”

“If you choose to retaliate there’s nothing I can do but assure you that we’ll fight back.” It’ll be a bloodbath, and it’s likely neither frat will come away unscathed. “But I wouldn't like it, and neither would Nick or Remy. I just need you to know that.”

He watches me for a long beat, the anger in his eyes replaced with something annoyed. “Your house has been a real pain in my dick, you know that?”

I grimace. “We’re trying.”

It takes a while for that stormy look in Killian’s eyes to grow somewhat quieter–pensive. Finally, he grumbles, “Maybe there’s an alternative.”

My answer is immediate. “Name your price.”

“We could use some guns,” he says, which is bullshit. The Lords are the second most armed house in Forsyth.

But I’m not in a position to argue. “Sure. We’ll do you up right.”

“And your DKS boys are good fighters,” he says, tapping a rhythm onto the desk. “We could use some more security around here overnight. Make the girls feel…safer.” I don’t miss the way he’s glaring at me, the implication that it’s due to my own actions.

Still, I clarify, “You want my fighters to protect your whorehouse?”

He warns, “I’d pay them fairly, if not handsomely.”

“Dude, are you kidding me?” I think of Kaz and Porterfield, Ballsack and Grant. “They’d do that for free.”

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