Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lily
The urgency in Killian’s voice spikes my nerves. “Where are we going?”
“We are staying at my place,” Killian replies, wrapping his arm around my waist to whisper in my ear. “If you make a scene, you’ll regret it.”
I try to nudge him, but he doesn’t budge. “Your place?”
Jodi is clearing up the table. “Killian’s father left him some property. Our mother has taken care of it all this time. It’s about time Killian has a look.”
“You’ve never seen it?” I ask.
“I’ll let you know once we are there,” Killian says to Jodi. He practically pushes me out the door.
There’s an SUV parked outside with heavily tinted windows. Killian opens the door for me to sit in the passenger seat.
“Why are we changing locations?” I ask nervously.
“Nico knows we are here. If he takes you a second time, he’ll make sure I can’t find you. So unless you plan to be taken, get in.”
Killian wastes no time getting into the driver’s seat and peeling away, leaving dust behind us.
“Will Jodi be okay?” I look back at the house.
He laughs. “Don’t let that innocent face fool you. She knows how to hold her own.”
“So is that a family thing? A bunch of psychopaths?”
“As opposed to yours?” He shoots me a glance. “With your family’s reputation, I’m surprised you haven’t claimed your place beside Alessio. You really have that man wrapped around your finger.”
“Reputation?” I shoot back.
“Your mum is known as a gold digger. Both your sisters did pretty well for themselves. You think people don’t notice those details?”
“My dad was the top capo of the Costello family. It shouldn’t be a surprise our ties would land us so close to the head of the family. My father’s name still carries weight even with him being gone. What will your name do after you’re dead other than your mother being—”
I stop and swallow what I was about to say. His mother just passed, and I shouldn’t insult a dead woman.
“My mother being a whore?” Killian finishes. “Is that supposed to bother me?”
“It’s not how I meant it.”
He slams on the brakes, causing me to jolt forward.
He grabs my face, holding my jawline with such force. “Yes, it was.” He pulls me toward him just a little. The scent of him fills my nostrils. “If you say something, Liliana, say it with ten toes down, your chest out, and chin up.”
His eyes bore into my soul, and there’s a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest.
Am I getting turned on?
“Is that what you meant to say?” Killian continues.
“I was going to say a birth machine,” I blurt out, now realizing how stupid that was.
“Whore would have been better.” He lets go of me.
The car hums steadily along the winding roads, the sound a comforting backdrop to the silence in the car.
Night is falling, casting a soft golden hue over the lush green fields that stretch endlessly on either side of the narrow lane.
Occasionally, the silhouette of ancient stone walls emerges, their weathered faces telling stories of the past.
As we drive, I gaze out at the landscape, my eyes drinking in the rolling hills, dotted with patches of wildflowers, swaying gently in the evening breeze.
Sheep graze lazily in the distance, their fluffy forms like clouds against the green backdrop.
A flock of birds cuts through the sky, their wings catching the last rays of the sun as it dips below the horizon, painting the clouds in shades of pink and orange.
After a while, Killian turns down a gravel road, and up ahead, a structure begins to take shape.
It looks like a mini castle, its stone facade robust yet inviting, crowned with a tower that rises against the twilight.
Ivy climbs the walls, weaving through the ancient stones, lending the scene an air of timelessness.
A wooden barn stands nearby, its weathered planks and red doors creating a striking contrast against the greens and browns of the landscape.
Chickens cluck amiably in the yard, and a couple of goats nibble at the grass.
As we park, gravel crunching beneath the tires breaks the silence.
Killian turns off the engine, and I step out, my senses immediately flooded with the earthy scent of the farm, mixed with the faint tang of salt from the nearby coast. The air is crisp, and the distant sound of waves crashing against rocks can be heard from the sea not far away.
“You own this?” I take it all in.
“Apparently.” Killian seems unfazed. “You should go claim a room before the rest of them come.”
“Them?”
“My brothers.”
I give him a questioning look. Flashbacks of when I was taken cause confusion as I stumble back. “Why are they coming?”
“Too far for them to come back and forth. It will give us time to plan.”
“Plan what?” I question, but Killian ignores me and pulls out a gold, rusted key, letting us in.
The exterior of the mini castle is rustic, but as we step inside, a different world unfolds—a Victorian dreamscape.
The hallway is adorned with rich, dark wood paneling and opulent wallpaper that whispers of elegance.
Ornate chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm, inviting glow over the polished floorboards.
Antique furniture, upholstered in deep jewel tones, fills the space, creating cozy nooks perfect for lingering conversations.
I marvel at the ornate details, the intricate moldings, and the delicate porcelain pieces that line the shelves.
“Head up the stairs and pick a room. I’ll get the stuff out of the car. Jodi packed you a few things.”