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Instead of trying to explain something to my father that he’s not wired to understand, I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”
Keres, Keaton’s father, pushes his glasses down from his head, examining Delila. “She’ll be buried in the Patrova plot in Kiznitch.”
I nod. “Agreed. The rest of this house can get burned to the ground.”
“Firstly, I didn’t want to be here, but I gotta say, I did enjoy the spilled blood, secondly, I could really do with a fucking drink,” Kohen murmurs. Exiting the sitting room.
I sigh, sitting back, as Kaius calls for the clean-up crew to pick up Delila.
“What’s up with you and Saskia, son?” Dad asks, instantly annoying me with his question.
“Why do you care?” I answer, not willing to look him directly in his eyes.
“I care because I know that girl must have a chip on her shoulder, and that chip was put there by you. So that’s why I care.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “She was a sweet girl, Killian, but she is not that same girl anymore.”
I know that he’s right, and I know that underneath it all, he means well, but I’m not in the mood to listen to one of his speeches.
“Leave it alone, Dad.” I kick up from the sofa and watch as the cleaning crew comes in with a gurney and black body bag. My thoughts zone out as I watch them pick Delila up and move her onto the metal bed. “Delila always trying to do good by everyone in the most fucked up way possible.”
King squeezes my shoulder. “You gotta be there for Maya, bro. You know this is going to hit her hard.”
Sighing. “I know.”
I’d classify myself as a feminist. I want women to succeed and I truly feel like we are a sisterhood. We are cut from the same cloth. We should support each other and uplift one another, but Draya tests my patience more than any woman ever has.
I never liked her as a kid.
I even more so don’t like her now.
Draya rests her elbow on her knee as she leans toward me, her long dark hair spilling over one slender shoulder. The woman needs a meal. “Can I ask you something, Dragavei?”
Oh, and also, I’ve noticed that she calls everyone by their surname.
My legs feel restless. “Sure.”
Draya studies my face closely. “Did you know that the Corneliis are not monogamous? Killian and Maya have a bond that cannot be broken, let alone touched by anyone. Will you be okay being second best forever?”
I stiffen at her aggressive words. She has hung the bait out for me, hoping I’d bite.
Keeping my eyes on hers, I smile sweetly. “What makes you think I want your son like that, Draya? He bullied me as a child, killed my father, killed my aunt, and played games with me from the day I joined Midnight Mayhem.” Her eyes narrow, but her mouth kicks up in a smirk. “You don’t have to worry about me breaking their bond, because I have no desire to go near it.”
Slowly, she leans back in her chair, just as Ash and Dhalia—King and Perse’s moms—reenter the room, carrying glasses of whiskey. Usually, I’d decline, but after the day I’ve had and because I can still smell sex and murder on my skin, I take it when Ash hands me it.
“Thank you.”
“What are you two talking about in here?” Dhalia asks, flicking her long perfectly manicured finger toward me as she brings her glass to her mouth. Dhalia is beautiful, not to say Draya isn’t, but when they’re seated beside each other, you can see the different glow. Dhalia has a good heart, Draya is dirty.
I take a sip of my whiskey, relishing in the burn that it leaves whispered over my lips. “Just clearing up a misunderstanding.”
“Hmmm.” Draya dismisses me with a simple flick of her wrist.
Ash runs her hand over my leg. “I had a feeling you were related Dragavei but couldn’t put my finger on it. Your mother and I were very close.”
“Thanks, Ash.” I bring my hand to hers and squeeze.
A few very awkward moments later, the front door opens in the foyer and voices spill into the sitting room. I ignore the way my stomach twists when I hear Killian. As if on cue, Draya smirks at me. She’s so much like her son. I see it now. Killian is his mother’s boy, not his daddy’s.
Killian drops on the sofa beside me, and I suck in a breath when his thigh presses against mine. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I wasn’t interested in him. I am not. He has caused me too much chaos for me to just allow him in. He may be in my life but that doesn’t mean he has to be in my heart. I appreciate him for giving me the closure at the cabin, but now I have to think rationally. Or at least try to.
