Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Killian
He was going to be a father.
Deep down, he’d known before he’d even set foot in her apartment building—they’d need to talk about moving her into his house sooner rather than later, given how ridiculously easy it had been for him to break in—but he’d wanted to hear her say it out loud.
It was a complication, and one he would be paying for in more ways than one. But first things first, he had an engagement to break off.
The Williamses’ home was two ticks past stately into ostentatious, which he put down to their California roots.
But those same roots were part of why Killian had sought out Richard in the first place.
Richard was a businessman, at his core, and having only lived in Charleston twenty years or so meant he didn’t have some of the longstanding biases and prejudices that kept Killian from working with most of the older, more established families.
It also meant he wasn’t as connected, which gave Killian more control over how their relationship progressed.
Killian needed control.
That thought brought him right back around to his naughty princess.
They’d need to set some ground rules for her, and he had no doubt she’d fight him on every single one.
But having his child was going to put a target on her back, and he had every intention of impressing the importance of his rules upon her the first chance he got.
Sean parked at the bottom of the steps and Killian assured him he wouldn’t be long before climbing out of the back of the car.
Richard, likely alerted by his security that Killian was on his way, met him at the front door with a wide smile.
Older than Killian, with far more salt than pepper in his hair, Richard Williams still had the chiseled features of a movie star, and not for the first time Killian found himself wondering how much the man paid to keep those good looks.
“Killian. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We need to talk. My… circumstances have changed.”
Emotion flickered across the other man’s face. Annoyance, Killian might have called it, though it was a bit too dark for such a shallow moniker. Too quick for most people to notice, but Killian made it a point to notice things most people overlooked. Not noticing was how people got killed.
But Richard smoothed his expression out almost immediately, his welcoming smile once more in place as he stepped back and gestured for Killian to step inside. “We’ll go to the parlor and I’ll have Portia bring us some of that tea you like.”
Every meeting he’d had with Richard up until now had been taken in his office. Why the sudden change?
Instincts on high alert, he followed his supposed ally to a large room that, like the house, just tipped the scales from elegant to gaudy.
There was too much gold, as if they were desperate to show off how much money they had, and Killian just barely managed not to wrinkle his nose at the exhibition.
Settling on a stiff, high-backed couch—trimmed in gold, of course—Killian watched his companion sit. Not settle, he was far too… alert for that. As if he wasn’t quite comfortable enough to relax in his own home.
That awareness wasn’t for Killian’s sake. They’d shed the stilted formalities early on, and even though their relationship was strictly a professional one, he’d always felt comfortable around Richard. And up until that moment, the other man had always seemed to feel the same.
Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
And that very wrong feeling only intensified when Richard’s gaze flicked up to Killian’s and then to the side again as he cleared his throat. “So. What did you need to speak with me about?”
There were, in his experience, few things worth beating around the bush about. Better, in most cases, to simply get it out and deal with whatever fallout there may be. “We should wait for Portia. This news affects her as well.”
With a wave of a hand, Richard dismissed Killian’s concerns. “You can tell her when she brings the tea. What’s going on?”
He wasn’t a man accustomed to being ordered about. But perhaps it would be better to get the shock of it over with before Portia arrived, in case Richard reacted poorly. “I just found out I’m going to be a father.”
Richard’s gaze snapped back to Killian’s, and again he saw that hint of darkness in the greenish-brown of his eyes. Had it always been there, and he just hadn’t noticed? Or had his news simply brought something to the surface Richard had been able to hide up until now?
Neither option was acceptable, as far as Killian was concerned.
“A father.” A forced smile, tight at the edges, not quite reaching the eyes. “Well. I suppose congratulations are in order.”
“Indeed. Unfortunately for both of us, this does mean I’m no longer available to marry your daughter.”
Richard’s brows rose. “I don’t see why not.”
Irritation pricked at the base of Killian’s skull.
“Because I’ll be marrying the mother of my child.
” That was, as far as he was concerned, the only path forward.
Aria would have something to say about it, no doubt, but she would eventually see reason.
It might require a few trips over Daddy’s knee to convince her he knew best, but she’d come around.
Eventually.
Across from him, Richard snorted, a derisive sort of sound that did nothing to ease Killian’s growing aggravation.
“Sentimental nonsense. You’ll marry Portia, as planned.
If you want to keep the girl set up somewhere you can keep an eye on her and the child, Portia will understand. She was raised well.”
She was raised well. Meaning, as Killian had assumed, she was raised to look the other way when it came to her husband’s affairs. And would likely be incredibly discreet about her own.
Anger and unease roiled in Killian’s stomach at the thought.
While he certainly wasn’t in love with Portia Williams, he enjoyed her company.
Had found her to be quick-witted and fun beneath the perfectly curated exterior.
And while their marriage was little more than a business arrangement at the moment, he’d had every intention of keeping his vows once they were made.
The thought of his wife not having those same intentions did not sit well with him.
And neither did the thought of being married to a woman who would look the other way while he kept not only another woman, but a child under his care.
“Be that as it may, my child will have the protection of my name. The wedding is off.”
“No.”
There weren’t many people in his life who could throw that word in his face and escape the interaction unscathed. Richard, for whatever reason, mistakenly believed he was one of those people.
Rising to his feet, Killian stared down at the man who was meant to be his father-in-law.
“You seem to be under the impression I came to ask your permission. I did not. The wedding is off, Richard, and to be blunt, I am reconsidering our entire working relationship. I need some time to reconsider how we move forward after this.”
And because he was staring him down, he saw the second the mask slipped.
Saw the desperate, hungry monster beneath the spit and polish.
But before Richard could do more than jump to his feet, the door to the parlor crashed open.
Filling the doorway was a brute of a man, tall and thick, the perfectly tailored suit doing nothing to hide the bulk of him.
His face, half obscured by a dark beard, twisted into a snarl.
Nikolai Markov. Leader of the Russian bratva.
Fuck.
Keeping the sudden pounding of his heart to himself, Killian cocked a brow, first at Nikolai, then at Richard. “My apologies. I seem to have interrupted something.”
“What is the Irishman doing here?” Nikolai’s voice was like the rest of him. Thick and rough and undeniably Russian.
Richard, for his part, was looking rather pale as his gaze darted from one dangerous man to the other and back again. “Killian was just…”
“I came to break off my engagement to Portia. And now that I’ve seen the company Richard keeps, I think it’s for the best if we sever our business relationship entirely. Good day, Mr. Williams.”
A hand wrapped around his upper arm as he moved to leave. Going perfectly still, Killian slowly turned to meet Richard’s furious gaze. The color was back in his cheeks, but it was too high.
Good. Maybe he’d give himself a heart attack and save them all the trouble of figuring out what to do with him.
“Richard.” He kept his voice low, but did nothing to hide the deadly intent underneath the quiet. “If you wish to keep that hand, I suggest you remove it from my arm. Now.”
To his credit, Richard did immediately release him, though his anger still blazed hot in his eyes. “You’re going to regret this, O’Rourke.”
“The only thing I regret is ever giving you a chance in the first place. Goodbye, Richard.”
Nikolai moved out of the way as Killian stormed out of the parlor and to the front door. The second the car door shut behind him, he had his phone out of his pocket, ringing through to his second in command.
“Family meeting in twenty,” he snapped into the phone. “We have some things to discuss.”