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The salads arrive, and we start eating. Tension hangs thick in the air like a fog. I keep peeking at Keira, but avoid eye contact. Her hands are shaking so much, I worry she might drop the salad fork. Before I reach out to steady her with a calming hand, my brother clears his throat.

“So, let’s start talking business,” Xander announces, setting his empty whiskey glass on the table. My uncles nod in agreement, dabbing at their mouths with their napkins.

“What business is there to discuss?” My gaze stays trained on the remaining amber in my glass. I try to sound aloof.

“Keira is rightfully mine. Her brother worked for me, then betrayed me. He stole a lot of money from me. Just before I slit his throat, he said he couldn’t pay me back, but that I could have everything he owned, and clearly, that includes her.” He points the salad fork at Keira, and I have to bite my tongue before I tell him to fuck off. Sparring with my brother isn’t going to make this conversation smoother.

“I have to say, killing him was fun, though. I tortured him for a while to make sure he was telling me the truth—though, I suppose anyone will say what you want them to when they’re staring down death.” Xander keeps staring at Kiera.

I know what he’s trying to do, and I hope Keira isn’t falling for it. Playing into my brother’s hands does nothing but feed the monster.

“He cried when I cut some flesh out of his leg. He begged me to stop over and over and over. Those are the most fun, you know—when they beg for the pain to stop. Personally, though, I loved it when he promised me your virginity. That was the best part—like he expected your frail, virgin body to pay for his debts.”

I’m about to interject when I catch Keira’s movement out the corner of my eye. She grabs the knife and lunges at Xander, her beautiful face wearing a mask of fury. Xander remains seated. His sadistic smile tells me he knows he’s proved his point.

I only have a split second to decide what to do, knowing neither one of my choices is going to be pleasant. I grab her wrist first, slamming her hand on the table, making her drop the knife. She whimpers, her eyes attempting to meet mine.

I don’t know why she’s crying. She knows what’s coming.

She should’ve listened to me. Fucking Christ.

My uncles are laughing like they’re watching some comedian on a stage, but I know none of this is a laughing matter. Keira played right into my brother’s hand, and now I’m left with no choice in the matter.

Now I have to show them I have her under control. I have to hurt her.

I grab the knife she dropped and force her hand flat onto the table. She struggles in my grip, but there’s no fighting my hold. I tighten my hand over her wrist, watching as pain contorts her features. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

I hoist the knife in the air and bring it down to stab her hand. I use such force, the tip of the knife embeds into the wood of the table between the knuckles of her index and middle finger.

“Next time, you’ll lose a finger,” I warn, releasing her wrist as I push her to the floor behind me. I don’t dare look at her face. If I see her tears or even fear, my mask will crumble to the ground, giving us both away.

I take my seat, keeping my back to her. “You are done eating with us. Go upstairs to one of the bedrooms and wait for me, naked and on your knees.”

I clench my jaw, and when I hear her soft footsteps leave the room, I damn near exhale in relief. She’s gone. She’s safe. For now. My brother has the biggest fucking grin on his face, and I decide right now I’m going to kill him someday.

“Well, that was fun,” he snickers. “She’s a bit of a feisty one, brother. I’m glad you’ve trained her well.” He pauses, taking a sip of his drink. “It will make her transition into my care that much easier—since she technically belongs to me.”

My uncles nod in agreement, and I clench my fists under the table. “She is mine. You won’t touch her. I don’t give a fuck what you had going on with her brother. She is under my protection now.”

Dom shakes his head. “Damon, you know it doesn’t work like this. The only way you can keep a woman under your protection is to make her family.”

Why the fuck didn’t I think of that?

“Fine, then I’ll marry her.” I don’t think of the repercussions. I simply think marrying her will help her, give her the protection she needs.

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