32. Killian
“Uncle Killian, wake up. It’s my birthday!” Connie exclaims, claiming her spot on the bed and nudging her forehead against mine.
Excitement like this is new behavior she shows us, or anyone, really.
I open one eye just to close it again. I want her to demand more, especially from me. Her relationships with men are complicated.
She loves Maddox because whenever he showed up at the Fierro mansion, he would give her all his attention. I suspect it’s because neither of us ever established a real relationship with Newt, and we should have, despite Franco’s orders.
“Uncle Killian,” Connie tries again.
This time, she sounds less sure of herself, so I do the only thing I can. I tickle her, making her giggle.
“I know it’s your birthday. After all, I bought you all the balloons you requested.”
Buying the balloons was Connie’s only request. She doesn’t know what a child’s birthday should look like, but she remembers that Serena bought her a balloon for every birthday, a family event for my father’s business and not for the girl herself.
This year and all the next will be different. And for this birthday, Raven has rented a place for Connie’s party.
“You should get up,” Connie exclaims while bouncing in place. “Aunt Fairy is making cookies.”
I felt Maricela leave the bed several hours ago. Our relationship is all wrong. She doesn’t speak about the rape or the rapist, and I don’t demand it from her either. I know that in any other situation, I would have made her talk and refused her pleasure. I do none of those things.
“What will you give me for one of your cookies if I get up?”
I try to tease Connie, but she goes as silent as a mouse. Fuck. Fatherhood doesn’t suit me. I always screw up by what I do or say. I’ve never had a significant connection or any true experience with kids, not even with Newt.
“How about a hug and a kiss?”
Connie smiles and then hugs and kisses me before she climbs off the bed and runs to the kitchen. She’s probably afraid that I’ll ask for something else.
I leave the room dressed in shorts and nothing more. The house smells like the best French bakery in the world.
Maricela is standing in the kitchen, still in her pajamas and hair tied up in a messy bun, not seeing anything but the macaroons she prepared.
“Raven, Cara mia. We’ll arrive in two hours. Will everything be ready by then?” Isabella asks over the phone, smiling brightly. Her shadow, Dario, stands near her. He’s the only one who notices me.
Maricela lifts her head the moment I raise Amado from his highchair, letting him scan the tattoos on my chest with his chubby fingers. His eyes are as unusual as his aunt’s and so very different. “Ki, Ki,” he says, bouncing in my arms.
“Killian,” I encourage him.
“Try saying Killian.” Maddox would be inconsolable if the little guy utters my name before saying his. And Liam will make the whole issue even more dramatic.
“Say Kil-li-an.”
“Ki, Ki,” he says again, and everyone laughs.
I look again at my mother and take a moment to study her demeanor. Isabella seems much calmer these days.
She and Maricela have become partners in everything they do, real friends, and I wonder about it. did Maricela confide in Isabella?
“I think he likes your tattoos,” Isabella says.
“Uncle Killian,” Connie begins, but she never finishes her thoughts without getting permission to speak.
If I could take my brother out of the grave and put him back in there myself, I would do it.
“Yes, Connie?” I play her game.
“Why do you have so many tattoos?”
Because your grandfather used to beat me like crazy, and I decided to cover up my scars and make him angry at the same time.
“Because I think they’re beautiful.”
Her eyes are on my left hand, where a picture of Isabella crying is engraved on my body. “I think they’re sad and spooky,” she decides.
“I think you’re right. My tattoos are part of my story.”
Isabella looks at me fondly. I was punished after I got the tattoo of her on my hand. Since then, I’ve only added things like letters, snakes and some chess symbols to my skin.
“Peqenita, you need to get dressed,” Marlina calls, taking Connie by the hand and leading her to her room.
I approach Maricela from behind, stealing one of the cookies that looks like a rabbit gnawing on a carrot.
“It’s a new form of healthy food,” I proclaim before kissing her neck and making her skin come alive under my touch.
“You’re driving me crazy,” she complains.
“That’s the goal. Besides, you didn’t stay in bed with me today.”
Maricela is running again, this time without going anywhere.
She says nothing, so I add, “Looks like you’ve missed baking.” She stops what she’s doing, the iced drawing on the cookie half-finished and turns to me. I kiss her nose and bring a smile to her lips.
She shrugs and continues her work of art.
“I don’t know if I enjoy it as much as I used to. It reminds me of the old me.”
The heavy sigh that escapes her lips makes me want to turn the universe upside down and find those who hurt her.
However, my plans of distraction must wait because Connie and Marlina return to the room.
Connie’s black hair is braided into two thick braids with a blue ribbon tied to the end of each. The dress she wears is also blue and puffy. It reminds me a little of the dresses I usually see in children’s cartoons.
“You look like a princess, Connie,” I tell her, and her usually rosy cheeks become almost crimson.
Crowded parties are not for people like me, with kids running everywhere and a mountain of presents waiting for Connie next to giant letter balloons spelling the words “Happy birthday.”
Several games and an event coordinator have been hired and are waiting to start the party while parents stand on the sidelines like this is the last place they want to be, fake smiles in place. Maddox, Liam, Kai, and I don’t look like we belong here with our suits and serious expressions, but here we are.
Maricela took it upon herself to greet and get to know the parents who came, attempting to speak to each person, even to the bitch who was responsible for her education of Joshi. Unlike me, Maricela was born to be a parent.
Today, she’s wearing an elegant but straightforward green dress that complements one of the colors in her eyes and her bronzed skin tone, not because she wanted to, but because she was expected to, for Connie’s sake. I don’t know how to function as a parent, not like she does.
Connie still fears me on some level, and Amado sees me. Hell, I don’t know what the little guy sees me as, but he seems to be comfortable with me.
Saying that, I never thought about fatherhood would be a lie. I never craved it per se, but fucking Maricela without protection since the beginning was because I wanted to tie her to me.
“Ponies!”
Connie almost screams as she bursts into giggles. I’ve never heard this girl raise her voice, and now I want to be front and center to witness every moment of this level of excitement, every chance I can get.
“You should say thank you to your Aunt Raven,” Maddox instructs while looking at the pony with a menacing expression, as if telling the horse, “If you dare hurt this girl, you’ll be turned into minced meat.”
It seems that Raven has prepared everything a little girl could dream of. The place is arranged with toy stations, target shooting stands, a pony for riding, and even a petting zoo area. A massive oval-shaped pool has been placed at the end of the path, taunting me with the kids jumping inside.
I leave Connie at Maddox’s side and look for Maricela and Raven. The two are talking to a girl with almost white hair. Her blue eyes look like they belong to a Barbie doll, and her long eyelashes, made up with heavy black mascara, make her eyes look even more significant. I know who she is, but I didn’t expect she would come here.
“Arina,” I say, entering the conversation as rudely as possible.
“I didn’t know you had arrived in New York.” I hate this bitch, and everything she represents for Kai’s future. Just like me, Raven knows very well what this woman is capable of and has her claws on the ready.
“Kai didn’t know either,” the woman says in an almost indistinguishable accent. Each letter sound is slightly softer than any true American. Still, instead of sounding like a Ukrainian or Slovenian, she speaks like an American.
Kai hasn’t even met her yet, but luckily, he knows about our onetime fuck.
“Why are you here? I don’t recall you being invited.”
I know why. She wants to remind him that he has no choice but to marry her. Fucking witch. She has him by the balls with Nikolai.
“We’ll be married in five months. I think there’s no point in leaving me in a dangerous place any longer.”
“Odesa might be safer with the likes of you gone.” Arina doesn’t react to my slur.
“You’ve changed since the last time I saw you. For one thing, you weren’t wearing so many clothes.” She winks and glances down at my crouch as if reminiscing about the one fuck I gave her.
“Nikolai knows you’re here?” She shrugs, and her lips turn up at the corners with a smile that can’t be real.
Her teeth are brighter than the sun, and she looks like she stepped out of an old Russian children’s movie, only missing the braids and a traditional crown.
“I don’t have to hold you accountable, Kill.”
“May I remind you who I am? You may be the future wife of Kai Korolov, but you are under my authority here, bitch.” Arina yawns as if I’m boring her to no end.
“I understand you aren’t welcome here,” Maricela says, using her sweet voice.
My little cat is about to stretch her claws, and I look forward to every minute of it.
“I also see that you two have already met, but as I asked you before Kill arrived, how did you know about Connie’s party?”
“I have my ways.” It doesn’t seem that Arina understands what she’s done.
Maricela nods. “Well, it’s apparent that Killian doesn’t like you, krosa trahnuta.”
It doesn’t surprise me that Maricela learned some Ukrainian.
“I don’t care about the reasons for that. What I do care about is Connie and her brother. You won’t do anything to spoil this event, am I clear? Killian and Kai can decide who you’ll open your legs to and whose ring you’ll wear at the end of it all but do something to ruin this event, and I’ll pluck your hair out with boiling tweezers, one by fucking one.”
With those words she walks away with Raven following at her heels and leaving me hard for her.
“Who is this woman, Killian?” Arina looks shocked. Good.
“My woman and you heard her. Do something, and I’ll skin you.”
“So much violence. We were friends once.” She purrs the words.
“I fucked you once by orders of my father, nothing more, nothing less. You’re a disposable whore.” That was Franco’s way of punishing Kai, marrying him off to a woman his son had fucked.
“Raven,” I call after leaving Arina behind. My cousin halts and regards me for a moment. “I need you to find Kai. It’s urgent. She’s not supposed to be here.”
“That’s Arina, isn’t it? Why did she say she was marrying Kai?” Raven demands to know. She never loved the woman, not even when we were children.
“Because Franco has a mental illness.”
“But Kai...” She looks so small, my Raven. And here I am doing the same to her.
“I know.”
“Killian,” she almost pleads.
She doesn’t want Kai to marry someone like Arina. I don’t either, but an oath is everything in the Bratva.
“I’m trying to take care of it, but I can’t promise anything. Franco has information on him. Even the old man’s death won’t prevent the outcome,” I confess in desperation.
Maricela flinches. I know for a fact that she hasn’t told Rav anything I confessed to her in confidence.
“It’s not fair. At least you’ll be happy next to the woman you love.” There is no malice in Raven’s voice, just acceptance. Her steps are small as she walks away, just like she is.
“You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”
“You know why I’m doing this, Maricela. Raven must be protected. If anyone finds out, it will destroy her.”
Maricela nods as if she agrees with me, even though it hurts to know I’m right. We both know Liam and Raven won’t be happy if the secret gets out because Raven would never be able to forgive herself.
Maricela tilts her head.
“So, Arina, eh? How many times have you fucked her?”
I hold up one finger. I’m not going to lie to Maricela. She nods once, turns, and walks away. I laugh and follow.
We run into Maddox, who’s holding Amado on his shoulders and following Connie like a servant while holding a bag of surprises.
“Our niece sure is a real Fierro. She hasn’t missed a single shot. She’ll be great with a weapon in her hand.”
“Not going to happen,” Maricela states, taking Connie’s hand.
Maddox looks at me, and all I see is the saliva dripping onto his bald head from Amado’s mouth. “Trouble in Paradise?”
“Arina is here.”
“Fuck,” Maddox says, breaking into a laugh that makes everyone turn to us.
“Will you stop dropping F-bombs?” I whisper.
He laughs louder and accompanies me back to where we left the Ice Queen. She’s a problem. A big fucking problem.
On the way, we come across the groom-to-be. “Kai, bro. You’re not going to like this.”
“Raven already told me. Where is she?”
“We left her with all the parents.”
Now that I see Maddox’s and Kai’s faces, I realize what a mistake that was. I couldn’t stay near her without wanting to take her head off her shoulders and solve this problem.
“Where’s Liam?”
“Over there with his secretary,” Kai explains with a jerk of his head. “Her son is here too. He’s in the same class as Connie.”
“Liam is doing it on purpose. He wants Rav miserable. We need to stop this, bro,” Maddox reminds me, and I throw my hands up like my Italian ancestry demands of me, almost screaming dai.
“You know what? This is your problem. Arina’s not my problem. I didn’t even know she was in the United States. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t even know what she looks like,” Kai says calmly. I point to the blonde. At least the witch is beautiful.
“Nicolai probably knew she was coming here, but why? It’s a provocation.”
“It doesn’t surprise me. He always knows things before everyone else.”
“Kai, she’s a problem,” I tell him, looking into his dark eyes.
He shrugs. “So I’ll marry her, and she will stop being a problem.”
“Stop lying to yourself. Remember Newt.”
“I can’t stop thinking about damn Newt. That’s all I think about,” he says with a sneer and leaves in search of his damnation.
The party continues with a clown dressed in a colorful dress and two huge buns made of what looks like wool on her head. All the children sing and dance and play games. Maricela holds Amado by the hands as he stumbles and falls, giggling in the process. I’m sure he’s going to sleep well tonight.
It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it,the voice in my head reminds me. I ignore it, standing beside Maricela, who appears not to notice me.
“I could have lied to you, and you know it. I was fifteen when I fucked her. You weren’t in the picture yet.”
“Will you stop saying words like that around children?” She doesn’t look at me, but I’m almost sure the green in those eyes of hers is taking over the calm waters in her irises, causing a storm to arise.
“Uncle, can you take me to the pool?” Connie asks after the clown finishes her routine.
“No,” I say in a slightly stiffer voice than I intended.
It’s not her fault. I know she can swim. Santino had made sure Connie received swimming lessons starting when she was a baby.
He did it to weaken me. Connie looks at me with her gigantic eyes, and for a moment, I see myself as a kid.
“Sorry,” I say, getting down on my heels so I’m closer to her eye level.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m afraid of the water, and I can’t swim.”
“It’s okay.” Connie takes my hand and doesn’t mention the pool again. It shouldn’t be like this. She’s five years old, and she already behaves as expected of her.
“Your aunt promised she’ll teach me to swim. Shall we make her help me?” Connie nods, clapping her hands.
The day is over, and I put Connie to bed. She often comes to sleep between me and Maricela, but I doubt that will happen today because her eyes are already half closed.
“Uncle Killian?” she begins, again waiting for permission to speak.
“Yes, Connie?”
“I like you more than Daddy,” she says, closing her eyes.
I leave her room quietly and enter Maricela’s room, which became ours, without even planning it. Maricela emerges from the shower completely naked, drying herself with a towel. Did her rapist cause all those silvery scars?
The scent of clean skin awakens my senses. My cock rejoices in seeing what belongs to him, ready for his woman. She lays down in bed, and I wrap my hands around her bare skin.
“Little Girl,” I whisper into her ear.
“Not like this, not when you can’t see past what happened to me,” she whispers.
Her breathing quickly becomes deep, as if she already knows how to live with the burden of what happened to her, while I can’t close an eye.