Page 155 of Vicious Kingdom

My throat closed up, so I nodded, mute.

“You should have stayed downstairs. I had it under control.” He bent and pressed his forehead to mine.

“I’m a fighter too,” I whispered. “It just took too long for me to find my fists.”

He chuckled, brushed a hand over my hair, and said, “I’m proud of you.”

It hit harder than the gunshot.

I sucked in a shaky breath, heart banging so loud I thought he could hear it. I realized I was still holding the knife, knuckles locked white around the handle. I dropped it, hating the sticky crimson coating my skin.

Leo covered them with his own. His other hand gripped my jaw, pulling my chin up with a firm insistence, while his fingers deftly tucked the wild strands of hair behind my ear. Heclaimed my lips fiercely, with the desperate intensity of someone who had danced too close to the edge of life. I savored the intoxicating thrill of raw, pulsing existence. It was a collision of need and relief that stole the air from my lungs. I gasped into him, tasting copper and adrenaline as his tongue swept past my lips with possessive intent. My body melted against his, knees weakening as his hands tangled in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me whimper.

“Annaliese, my fierce little authoress,” he growled against my mouth, biting my lower lip and then soothing the sting with a slow, deliberate lick.

I clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer, desperate to feel his heartbeat against mine.

Leo backed me against the wall beside the rooftop door, his body caging mine, one hand braced beside my head while the other slid down to grip my hip with bruising intensity. The rough brick scraped against my back as he pressed his hips against mine, the hard ridge of his arousal making me gasp. My hands slid beneath his shirt, nails raking down the taut muscles of his back, marking him as mine.

“I need you,” I panted against his mouth.

Leo groaned, his hands cupping my face before sliding down my throat, thumbs pressing just enough to make my pulse race. His touch traveled lower, palming my breasts through my shirt, thumbs circling my hardened nipples until I arched into him.

“Here?” he murmured, voice rough with desire. “With a body ten feet away?”

I should have felt shame, horror at my own desperation, but all I felt was fire licking through my veins. The danger, the death, the knife—all of it had awakened something primal in me.

“Leo,” I whimpered, but I relented. I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in the smoke and sweat, the deep animalwarmth of him. He wrapped me in his arms, and for the first time, I let myself believe the danger had passed.

“I don’t know what happens next,” I said, voice muffled in his shirt.

He kissed the top of my head. “We go home,” he said. “We clean up. And then we figure out what we want to be, now that no one’s writing it for us.”

That sounded impossibly good.

I squeezed Leo’s hand, harder than I needed to, and he squeezed back. Below us, business empires slept and the underworld awakened, unaware that its king was reunited with his long-lost love. Above it all, we stood, ready to invent ourselves from scratch and take our rightful place, ruling it all.

Epilogue – Isabella

The wooden altar sat alone, looking down on the sanctuary, with weary resignation. The material was worn by the decades, and the stain faded from the beams of sunlight falling upon it morning after morning. And yet to me, and many others, it was a beacon of hope. The one place I could return to, whenever my soul was hurting, and find the strength to continue.

The black clothing covering my body should mean that I was in the depths of despair.

Today, I was here to thank the Good Lord for my freedom.

I knelt in the pew, bowed my head, and lifted my spirit to the heavens.

I’ve been delivered.

Random thoughts interrupted the prayers on my lips. I finished the message to the Father, whispered an Amen, and lost myself to the tangled web of mental chaos. As I meditated, the door opened and closed. The hinges were in desperate need of oil.

I didn’t open my eyes, didn’t look behind me. Other souls, plagued with spiritual needs, often visited while I was in here, so I didn’t think anything of the interruption. It wasn’t until the stench of ripe fruit tickled my senses that my distracted mind fixated on the newcomer. The sickly, syrupy scent invaded the sanctuary.

Who the hell liked peaches enough to smell like them?

I was tempted to look back, but that was rude. Besides, I was almost done. Just a few more minutes of quiet reflection, then I could leave this sacred space and return to the noise of the outside world.

A metallic click shattered the silence.