Chapter 29
Duke
When I slip my hand into my jacket, I don’t know whether to reach for my phone or my gun. Both are useless if I want to avoid alerting the Bratva to Killian’s presence. I couldn’t care less how he got in. He’s trying to involve Grace and I can’t allow that.
“I told my hairdresser not to come,” Katarina says, covering her hand over her mouth. Andrey is close. He’s the quieter of her two bodyguards. He listens and he takes notes.
“Hairdresser? For fuck’s sake, Katarina, give up the pretense.
” Everything had pointed to Killian being the man she was involved with, but up until now, she’s refused to confirm or deny it.
She doesn’t answer me now and my patience is wearing thin.
Through gritted teeth, I whisper, “He’s parading right in front of us. ”
Andrey strolls past, glancing up to the roof as if scanning for snipers, but his ears are trained on us.
My brothers have been quietly watching the situation unfold and it’s Rory who steps forward. He knows Killian well, and if he’s surprised by his appearance at the party, he isn’t showing it. “Still got your headache, Duke?”
I don’t have a headache, but I play along to see where my brother’s leading. “I can’t seem to shake it,” I say, staring at Killian. He’s backed away from Grace, but not far enough.
“A birthday party and a wedding on the same weekend will do that,” he says.
“Especially when these guys are going over the top with security. It’s not like they could plug all the weak spots in a place this size.
” He glances at Danyl, who’s just walked the entire length of the terrace, then lowers his voice the only way Rory can.
Loudly. “They haven’t even spotted the hidden steps at the end of the terrace. ”
Andrey straightens, but it’s Danyl who reacts as predicted. “What steps?”
Rory shrugs. “I wouldn’t worry about it, it’s just an old access path. Our gardener’s been training the azaleas over it for years. Honestly, no one would find it.”
“Show me,” Danyl demands.
Rory makes a show of objecting then saunters off with one bodyguard in tow. Calder deals with the other by suggesting we relocate some of the rope cordon to block the non-existent path Rory mentioned. He hurries down the steps, leaving Andrey to catch up with him. The pair start arguing.
Meanwhile, Grace is whispering something to Ed. He puts his hand to his chest in shock.
“Start talking, Kat,” I hiss as Grace disappears into the marquee with Killian on her tail. “What the fuck is he up to? We’ve got less than an hour until Fitz is due home.”
“He’s not up to anything,” Katarina insists. “He just wants to give me my birthday gift.”
She tugs my arm, making a huge assumption that I’ll believe her if I look her in the eye. I glower. “And he chooses now? Does he know your uncle’s been holding Fitz hostage?”
Katarina glowers back, but I’ve switched my attention back to Ed. He’s heading towards us, but not nearly fast enough. He pulls his cell from his pocket and puts it to his ear. My phone doesn’t ring. He’d better be calling Max for backup.
“Killian knows everything,” Katarina says. “I trust him.”
I want to tell her she shouldn’t, but it won’t change the fact that Killian is already here. “So he knows you’re leaving tomorrow?” I ask. She nods. “And you think he’ll simply let you go?”
Her fingers fidget nervously, but she tilts her chin up in defiance. “He wants one final goodbye. I told him no. He was only supposed to hand over my birthday gift to Grace and–”
It’s only now I figure out how he got in.
I grip Katarina’s arm when what I really want to do is grab her by the throat.
“You arranged… Fuck! You set Grace up?” I dig my fingers into her flesh, but she doesn’t flinch, a reminder that men have done far worse.
I release my grip. “She wanted to be your friend and you put her danger. You’ve put us all in danger. ”
“Are you not doing the same?” Her gaze sweeps across our surroundings. “Look around you, Duke. You’ve invited innocent people into your home.”
“They’re not in danger if no one fucks up.”
“Grace was never in danger from Killian,” she hisses.
“She wouldn’t have willingly brought him back here, even if she thought he was just a fucking hairdresser. The bastard must have threatened her.” My hands clench into fists. “I need to speak to her, and you need to keep your uncle’s spies occupied until I’ve dealt with Killian.”
“You can’t forcibly remove him without creating a scene,” she points out. “I’m the only one who’ll convince him to leave quietly. Find a way to get him to me.”
I hate that she’s right. “Make an excuse to go back to your room,” I say quickly as the rumble of Rory’s voice grows louder.
“Now I think about it,” Rory’s saying to Danyl. “That path might have been at our place in Scotland. Funny how the mind can play tricks.”
“Say you’ve had a wardrobe malfunction or some–”
Katarina’s open palm smacks against my cheek with enough force to make my teeth clash. “You bastard! You think a week is long enough for a honeymoon? I don’t care about your fucking work commitments!” she screams.
I step back, hand to my cheek. Well, I suppose this works. “As my wife, you’ll do as you’re damn well told!”
She snorts. “It’s going to take more than brave words to tame me, Duke. You’re not going to treat me like a pet you can throw the occasional treat to,” she yells, spit flying from her mouth. “Fuck you and fuck this party!”
She turns on teetering high heels and I take a step to follow her into the house, then fling my arms in the air.
“You won’t get away with behavior like this when we’re married!
” Turning my back on her retreating form, I storm down the steps.
The only part of our performance that isn’t an act is my anger.
“Time to enjoy the fucking party!” I announce, setting my sights on Ed, who apparently can’t walk and talk at the same time.
He’s standing on the lawn midway between the house and the marquee with his phone still pressed to his ear. He finishes the call just as I reach him. “Grace sent me to warn you,” he says.
“Tell me what you know,” I demand. There’s no time for setting the scene. I need a quick rundown of the situation and I need it now.
“Killian McConkey’s here. He’s with Grace,” he says.
“She wants you to meet her in the catering tent. He’s demanding to see Katarina.
” He takes a steadying breath. “I’ve let Max know and he’s on his way.
And no, I don’t know if Killian’s on his own.
” I presume that’s a question Max has already asked. “Oh, and I know all about Fitz.”
“Knows what about Fitz?” Rory demands from behind me. We’re on grass so I hadn’t heard him approach with Calder.
I was hoping to have my little brother safely home before making my confession.
I’m going to get a lot of flak for this and I don’t have time for a lecture.
“He’s been a guest of the Bratva for the last few weeks.
He’s fine. I’ve spoken to him. The deal is he gets returned as long as I go ahead with the wedding.
He’s due to be returned in…” I check my watch.
Fuck. “Forty-five minutes. Vasili’s sending a representative to hand him over and make sure the wedding happens. ”
I go to stride off, but Calder grabs my arm. “They took our brother hostage and you didn’t tell us?”
We’re closer to the party-goers than I’d like. “Keep your voice down,” I hiss.
“To hell with that!” Rory bellows. My oldest brother is usually the level-headed one, but he thrums with rage. “You should have told us!”
I’m too busy reeling from Rory’s reaction to notice Calder, or his fist until it smashes into my jaw. “You fucking asshole!”
I stagger back a step, but stay on my feet. There are a few gasps from onlookers, and if I can hear them, they can hear us. “As much as I’d love to fight this out,” I say, spitting out blood, “we have a far more pressing matter to deal with. I need to get to the catering tent.”
It’s Rory who grabs my arm this time. “You don’t go anywhere without us.”
As we step inside the marquee, the party’s in full swing. There are glitter balls and ice sculptures, champagne fountains and an enormous birthday cake that doesn’t look any worse for missing the top tier.
The bar is already two deep despite there being twice as many bartenders than are necessary. It could be that some have skills better suited to the military than behind a bar. Thankfully, there’s no doubting the talents of the trapeze artists currently keeping our guests entertained.
With attention diverted, my brothers and I make it through the marquee without too much fuss. Rory has the reputation for being the friendliest sibling and guests approach him first. He’s far more polite with his refusals to stop and talk than I would be.
As we reach the tunnel that connects to the catering tent, it’s crowded with waiting staff. Ed grabs a napkin from one of them and hands it to me. “You’re bleeding.”
I take it gratefully. “You don’t need to involve yourself with this,” I tell him. “It would be better if you kept your head down.”
“Oh, I’m staying,” he insists.