Chapter 17
The front door closes hard enough to rattle through the apartment, yanking me from sleep like a slap to the face. I jolt, blinking against the bright early morning sunlight pouring through the windows.
“Enz!” Cillian’s voice booms through the apartment, deep and unmistakable.
“What?” I shout, still groggy, and my voice rough with sleep. My yell causes Eavan to grumble, stirring against me. “Shit,” I mumble under my breath.
Eavan.
In my fucking bed .
And her brother — already pissed off about something — is downstairs.
My groggy haze clears instantly, and I sit up, my pulse spiking. Eavan shoots upright, the blanket sliding off her bare chest and panic flashing across her face.
“Cian?” she whisper-shouts, scrambling to glance at the clock on the nightstand. “Shit! Enz! They weren’t supposed to be back this early.”
“I know,” I mumble, throwing off the blanket and hopping out of bed. Eavan is right behind me, tripping over my discarded pants and scrambling across the room, scouring for her clothes.
She finds what’s left of her dress and the shredded, sad remnants of her panties from last night—lifting them both and glaring at me accusingly, like I’m the reason she can’t put them back on this morning.
I mean, she’s not wrong… and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
I open my mouth to apologize, but she shakes her head with a smirk and drops them back onto the floor.
Clearly, she isn’t that upset . She grabs my gray dress shirt from last night and slips it on, quickly buttoning only what’s necessary.
I have to force myself to turn away and avoid admiring how good it looks on her. Not right now .
I yank on a pair of gray sweats—without bothering to find boxers first—and grab a T-shirt from the dresser. In a few quick strides, I’ve crossed the room to where she’s standing and cup her face, dusting my fingers over her cheeks. “Wait a few minutes,” I softly instruct, “then come downstairs.”
She nods her understanding .
“Maybe stop by your room to change your shirt,” I add, letting a grin spread across my face. She looks down and groans, realizing that she can’t exactly parade around the apartment in my clothes without arousing suspicion.
“Shit,” she exhales.
“And obviously I like it, but… maybe also a really quick shower to wash off the smell of me. I’ll cover for you.” I press a kiss to her forehead, hoping to comfort her. “It’ll be fine, princess. I promise.”
She’s chewing at her lower lip—her adorable nervous tell—when I pull away.
I grab my phone, finding five missed calls from Cillian, and shove it into my pocket as I cautiously open the bedroom door.
Finding the coast clear, I slip into the hall and shut the door behind me.
As my nerves start to get the better of me—worried that he somehow knows—I swallow hard before stepping from my door.
I take the first step down the stairs and immediately spot Cillian at the bottom, fists clenched at his sides and about to head up. “What the fuck?” he snaps. “You don’t answer your fucking phone?”
“It’s 7:00 a.m.,” I huff my reply. “Like a normal person, I was still fucking sleeping.”
Cillian doesn’t look convinced. His face is tight, and his eyes are bloodshot, like he hasn’t slept in days. “I need to wake Eavan. This concerns her, too.”
“I’ve got it.” Heading back into the hallway, I bang on his bedroom door—knowing it’s empty—and raise my voice enough to carry to my room. “Save some water for the rest of us, princess.” My words are laced with faux annoyance. “Your brother is back and waiting for you downstairs.”
Watching me from the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed, he sarcastically mutters, “Glad to see the two of you got along while I was gone.” If only you knew, brother…
I follow him into the kitchen, where Nikolai is already nursing a cup of coffee like it’s the only thing keeping him from committing homicide.
Automatically, I grab two mugs from the cabinet filling both of them.
I am about to grab the cream and sugar before I realize my mistake.
“You wanted one, right?” I offer the cup I poured for Eavan to Cillian.
He nods, and I slide it across the island to him.
“We haven’t heard from either of you in days.” I prop my elbows on the edge of the counter and sip my coffee. “Are either of you going to fill me in on what the hell happened?”
Nikolai doesn’t look up. “It’s probably best if we wait for Eavan.” That doesn’t make me feel any better .
“Wait for me for what?” she asks, walking toward the kitchen. Her hair is dripping wet, and she’s wearing a short T-shirt dress—and I exhale a sigh of relief as she slips seamlessly into the conversation.
Cillian pulls her into a hug, squeezing her tighter than I’ve ever seen him hold anyone. “I’m sorry I had to leave,” he apologizes. “Did Enzo treat you okay?”
She answers without hesitation, “He was exhausting to be around, but he took good care of me.” I shake my head, fighting against the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Exhausting… That’s one way to put it.
She takes the farthest barstool from me, like she knows being close to me would make it impossible to hide our secret. She’s right. I wouldn’t be able to keep from touching her. It’s already hard enough to keep my eyes off her.
“How was your trip?” she questions, folding her arms.
I echo her, my voice sharper. “Yeah. How was your trip? What the hell happened?”
Cillian leans against the counter, jaw clenched. He glances at Nikolai for a moment before speaking. “Everything seemed fine when we first got there,” he shares. “We were straight with them—told them we’re not looking to get into the trafficking game with them. They acted like they understood.”
“But?” I ask.
“But they aren’t nearly as understanding about Eavan.”
My gut twists. I already know what he’s about to say. “What do you mean, not understanding about Eavan ?”
Cillian’s jaw clenches so tightly that I’m surprised he doesn’t chip a tooth.
“Davit Sargsyan has a twenty-year-old son,” Nikolai answers for Cillian. “They still want the merger between our four families. Which means they still want?—”
“Me…” Eavan finishes his sentence, her voice barely audible. Her eyes flick to mine, wide and full of fear.
I want to go to her. Pull her into my arms and tell her it’ll never happen.
Swear to her that I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone lay a hand on her.
But I can’t. Not with her brother standing three feet away from us.
“No,” I roughly blurt, unable to stop the word from spilling from my mouth.
Cillian’s eyes snap toward me. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, it’s not happening. We’re not selling her off like she’s a fucking chess piece,” I snarl, my blood beginning to boil. “They only want her to force our… your hand in taking on our fathers’ promises.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Cillian snaps. “You think I didn’t want to put a bullet between that bastard’s eyes when he demanded her like she was an object?” Cillian drags a hand down his face. “We’re not agreeing to shit. But we need a plan.”
“No plan that involves her,” I huff. Eavan sits quietly, her eyes staring at the floor like she’s trying not to unravel.
“Agreed.” Nikolai’s response is quiet but firm. “We just have to figure out how to walk away without starting a war.”
If a war is what it takes to protect her. A war is what these fucking assholes are going to get.
I lean back in my seat, willing her to look at me.
Just once. I need to let her know she’s not alone.
That no matter what happens, I’ve got her.
She’s mine, and I will protect her. She lifts her eyes, and the second those emerald orbs meet mine, I’m gutted.
She is terrified, but trying desperately to hold herself together in front of them.
I can’ t touch her. Can’t comfort her. Can’t do a damn thing to ease the fear coursing through her veins. But I feel it all the same, in my gut and my chest, with my nails digging into the palms of my tightly bound fists.
I take a slow sip of my coffee, willing myself to stay composed. To think. Because if I let rage speak for me, I’ll say something I can’t take back.
Nikolai paces, rubbing the back of his neck.
There’s more… And it’s worse. Nikolai never fucking paces.
“We need to make sure she’s not alone. Not ever without someone close by,” he says, mostly to Cillian, though his eyes flick toward me, too.
“They didn’t say it, but the implication was clear.
If we don’t cooperate, they will act without our permission. ”
My throat tightens, and I feel like I’m suffocating. “Kidnapping?”
Nikolai nods. “We’ve seen how they operate out there—behind the curtain of a party neither of us wanted to attend.
If they take her, being forced to marry might seem like it would’ve been a blessing.
” My fist now clenches so tightly at the thought of her being tossed into a sex trafficking ring that my nails pierce my palm, filling it with blood.
“The three of us can protect her. We can keep her safe.” Her eyes flick to mine, and I know she hears what I’m really saying: I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe.