Chapter 5
Sipping my black coffee, I take a seat on a lounger near the railing of the terrace.
Cool spring air brushes against my face and nips at my bare chest as I pull on a much-needed T-shirt.
Nikolai leans against the glass railing, cigarette in hand, staring out at the sprawling concrete of the city as we both wait for Cillian to join us for the private conversation he demanded.
Cillian storms onto the terrace, pulling on a white T-shirt and having replaced the pants he threw at his sister.
He silently paces back and forth like a caged animal—clearly on edge.
Cillian’s gaze flicks between us and Eavan inside the apartment until he calms enough to sit on the lounge chair beside me.
Watching him settle, my gaze is drawn over his shoulder to Eavan.
She’s standing in the kitchen, swimming in her brother’s clothes.
Leaning against the counter and slowly sipping her coffee, her eyes never stray from the three of us—like she’s trying to read lips and follow our conversation through the glass. Clever girl…
“She may act tough, but she’s scared,” Cillian mutters, dragging a hand through his hair. “She doesn’t understand why she’s here. Why we’re here with you two of all people.”
“Why would she?” Nikolai asks rhetorically, without turning from his view of the city. “We’re the enemy. She’ll never understand.”
“Don’t say it like that.” My face scrunches as I shake my head. “It makes us sound like we’re together .”
“I have to tell her,” Cillian insists, ignoring my comment. “I told her I would explain… but the only way is to tell her everything.”
“Everything?” Nikolai turns to face us before leaning against the rail and taking a long, deep drag on his cigarette. “You can’t be serious.”
Cillian glances through the windows at his sister, and we follow suit.
Her fiery red hair catches the sunlight, setting it ablaze.
She looks softer than I expected—outwardly calm for someone ready to stab me only minutes ago.
But I saw the panic in her emerald-green eyes.
The confusion. The fear. The way she stared at me like I was some kind of monster.
Because I am. It’s a look that I should be used to, but I’m not.
“She deserves the truth.” Cillian sighs.
My gaze lingers on her, watching her round cheeks flush pink when I don’t look away. “She deserves to be protected from it,” I counter. “Telling her puts us all—all four of us—at risk. You know that.”
“She’s my sister, Enzo. I was honest with both of you from the beginning.
I did this for her . Every drop of blood I spilled…
Every lie I told… Every goddamn betrayal I committed.
It’s building our empire, but you both know that for me, it started because of Eavan.
” Cillian’s voice cracks. “You know what my father was going to do. You know the kind of man he’d promised her to. ”
“We know,” I softly respond, holding Cillian’s stare. I don’t have a sister of my own, but I’ve spent my entire life in this world, and I know how dark it can be. How men can somehow treat their wives, daughters, and sisters like property, trading them away like cigars and wine to make a deal.
“She needs to know what we did,” Cillian insists again. “That I put two bullets in our father’s chest to keep him from signing her over to that woman-selling bastard. How we killed your fathers, too, so they couldn’t uphold their end of the deal.”
Flicking his cigarette butt over the terrace rail, Nikolai mutters, “We take this to the grave or risk being put in one. ”
“Who the fuck is she going to tell?” Cillian spits. “I have her locked in here with the three of us to keep her safe. You think she’s going to break out and run to the cops? The feds? She’d never… and you both know it.”
“ We don’t know what she’ll do,” Nikolai snaps, his tone sharp as he gestures between the two of us. “ We don’t know anything about her, except she’s not like us, and she clearly doesn’t trust us.”
“She’s better than us,” Cillian proclaims, his fists balling at his sides. “That’s the whole fucking point.”
Silence falls over the terrace as we weigh up his argument. I look through the glass again, finding Eavan leaning with her forearms resting on the counter, the pristine white cup cradled in her hands. Her lips are pressed together, and her brows are slightly drawn as she watches us intently.
“Tell her.” The words fall from my mouth as I continue to watch her.
She shifts her weight, and the sun catches on the soft curve of her round cheeks and the delicate slope of her neck.
She is undeniably beautiful. Untouchable and forbidden—Cillian would end me for trying. Yet, I can’t stop looking.
“This is fucking stupid,” Nikolai exhales. “Fucking tell her, I guess.”
“Then we tell her.” Cillian pushes himself from the lounger and to his feet.
“I know my sister. She’ll understand.” Nikolai and I follow him to the door, nearly bumping into him when he stops abruptly before opening it.
“One more thing… Stop fu cking looking at my sister like that,” Cillian demands, glaring at me.
I’m guilty as sin, and he’s clearly seen it. A lazy smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth, I ask, “Like what?”
“Like that ,” Cillian snarls, his jaw tightening when my eyes flick through the glass to her. Roaming down her body and over the roundness of her hips—curves that I haven’t been able to pull from my thoughts since seeing her draped over his shoulder.
“Noted,” I murmur.
“I mean it, Enz.” Cillian pushes harder, his body growing as rigid as his words at my insincerity.
“I know you do.”
“Then knock it off,” he insists. “She’s not like the girls that rotate through your bed.”
I don’t respond. I don’t need to. The more he forbids it, the more I enjoy stealing glances. She’s beautiful and unbelievably tempting to look at—nothing more. A little playful admiration. Stepping inside, my gaze drifts straight to the kitchen. To her. I’m only looking.
Eavan doesn’t flinch as we all step back inside and walk toward her, nor does she hide the fact that she was watching us the whole time. Her expression is neutral, but it’s the kind of even-handed look that takes effort—like she’s holding back any emotions bubbling under her surface .
Reaching the counter, Cillian leans on it with his forearms. “We need to talk.”
She raises a brow and snarks, “No fucking shit.”
“Sit.” Cillian gestures to the bar stool beside her at the island.
“I’ll stand,” she brattily refutes. He hesitates but doesn’t argue. Meanwhile, I bite my tongue and stare across the counter at her, wanting to pick her up and forcibly plop her perfectly round ass in the seat.
“This isn’t easy,” Cillian starts, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
Eavan snorts into her coffee. “Let me guess. It has something to do with why I woke up in a strange bed and you just had some secret boys’ club meeting with our family’s enemies—about me.”
Her snarky attitude quickly confirms that those pouty, pink lips come with a complementary sharp tongue.
Her bratty disrespect hits a nerve, and I over-aggressively pull out the stool Cillian offered her.
When she hears what we have to say, she’s going to need it.
She lets out an exasperated sigh and instead of kindly insisting—as intended—I snarl, “Take the seat, princess.”
She says nothing, her eyes darting to Cillian, waiting for him to come to her defense. “Sit,” he demands, significantly softer than I did. Glaring at me, she begrudgingly climbs onto the barstool with a slight roll of her eyes. It’s subtle, but enough to cause my jaw to tick in response.
Nikolai rounds the counter and leans against the refrigerator, arms folded, saying nothing. The one corner of his mouth curling the slightest bit when he looks at me, obviously entertained by my annoyance at our new houseguest’s defiance.
“I killed our father,” Cillian bluntly confesses, and the rosy blush washes from Eavan’s round cheeks as her face grows pale. Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t say a word or make a sound. “He was going to arrange your marriage to Andranik Sargsyan.”
Her eyes snap up from her lap. “No… He wouldn’t?—”
“He would’ve.” Cillian reaches for one of her hands resting in her lap.
“He was . Everything was done. The agreement had been made. Our fathers”—I glance from her to my brothers—“were going to use you as a pawn to buy into his family business. That’s the meeting I was supposed to take you to last night. The one you weren’t coming home from.”
Her hands grip the armrests of the stool so tightly that her knuckles grow white, and I can’t tell if her clenched fists are in anger or fear.
“They were going to sell you to that horrific bastard like cattle.” Cillian shakes his head and bitterness creeps into his voice. “He would’ve destroyed you, and I couldn’t let that happen. So, I stopped it… I ended it… I ended him .”
Her lower lip trembles as her eyes dart between the three of us. With her voice barely above a whisper, she asks, “And the others?”
She’s a smart girl—knowing that both my father and Nikolai’s would’ve taken her to forge the deal after her father’s untimely demise. When Cillian doesn’t answer right away, I step forward. “They’re gone. All of them. Including Sargsyan.”
Her eyes flick to me, wide and full of disbelief. “You’re not just working together,” she speculates slowly, pushing from her barstool. “You are together… the new heads of your families.”
“We are.” Nikolai nods once, and the realization hits her. Her knees give out slightly as she stands and grips the granite countertop to keep her balance. Stepping back, she wraps her arms around herself so tightly it looks like she’s holding herself together.
“You brought me into this?” she huffs at Cillian. “You dragged me into the middle of what’s going to be a blood war and expected me to what? Say thank you?”
“I saved you.”
“No. I mean, maybe, but that’s not all you did.” She vehemently shakes her head. “The three of you have turned this city into a war zone.”
“I chose you,” Cillian snaps. “Over him. Over them . Over everything . You were the only one who mattered.”
“Don’t lie to yourself, Cillian. Saving me got the three of you a fucking empire.”
Unable to stop myself, I step toward Eavan—so close that her heaving chest brushes against mine with every angered exhale.
“Think whatever you want of me and Nik, princess, but know that none of us went into last night lightly. Regardless of our reasons for doing it, all of us saved your ungrateful little ass. But Cillian… he did what he did to protect you ,” I grumble in a gravelly whisper, looming over her.
She stares up at me, her defiance not wavering, and it takes every bit of restraint to maintain my dwindling composure.
“Now, don’t be a fucking brat and thank your brother. ”