27. Lance
27
LANCE
G od love my foster brother for coming to the same conclusion as I did without me having to say it. The only problem now will be breaking the news to Quinn. But after last night, I know what has to happen. And it has to be me.
“Not a chance,” Killian growls. “I’m sick of sitting back and letting you two have all the fun. I’m killing the bastard who I should have killed long ago.”
I know he’s referring to the day Lucian hinted at forming an alliance against Boris Sokolov. He still feels guilty for not putting an end to the Italian’s brash idea to kill the Russian pakhan . But neither of us had believed Lucian would be crazy enough to assassinate Boris. And it was too late when we realized his boastful speech was actually the foundation to a plan he’d already hatched.
“You’re not going alone,” I state.
“No, I’m taking you with me,” Killian agrees.
Normally, I would take him up on the offer in a heartbeat. Riding into battle with Killian is one of the best feelings in the world, brothers in arms crushing our enemies as one. But if this conflict has taught me one thing, it’s that Quinn won’t survive the loss of her brother. If one of us has to die, it’s going to be me. I can’t risk the Kings losing our boss. And he knows that—even if he doesn’t want to admit it.
“One would be quieter. And I know where I’m going. If we’re doing this, we need to get it done fast and get it done right. The mission has a higher chance of success if I go in alone.”
Killian’s jaw works as he grinds his teeth in frustration. I know how desperately he wants to see the light leave Lucian’s eyes. But I can see the resignation in the set of his shoulders even before he speaks up.
“Fine,” he growls.
“Um, no,” Tatiana interjects, crossing her arms over her ample breasts so the cleavage shows above her designer dress. “Not fine. Who put you two in charge? Last I recall, this was my fight that you agreed to help with.”
Hackles rising, I fight to keep my irritation under control because we’re well past the point of this conflict belonging to the Sokolov sisters alone. Tatiana might not know it yet, but Lucian has threatened the woman I love more than once, and I won’t let it happen a third time.
“Who would you suggest, then?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. “From where I’m sitting, you don’t have a single man in your ranks that you can trust beyond a doubt. And that’s what we need for this mission.”
“As it just so happens,” Tatiana hisses. “I have the perfect person for the job—my father’s secret weapon.”
I haven’t heard hide nor hair about the Sokolovs’ secret weapon in so long, I’d started to wonder if he went into retirement—or died alongside Boris at the charity event where Lucian Agosti and his men gunned the old pakhan down. And I frown as I wait for a better explanation.
But Killian bristles immediately, sitting forward as he grips the arms of his chair. “Absolutely not,” he snarls, earning a surprised look from both me and Tatiana. His green eyes blaze as he glares down the Russian pakhansha , and for the first time, she actually looks a little taken aback.
Then her chin rises in a look of proud defiance. “Oh, what? You think your man is somehow superior?” she snaps back, her expression imperious.
“No, I?—”
Before Killian can give his reason, the office door swings wide, and Quinn and Natasha stalk in, their expressions stormy. It’s clear they picked up on enough of our conversation to know what’s going on. And neither looks particularly happy about our decision.
Killian tenses as his eyes meet Natasha’s, and he gives the slightest shake of his head. But whatever their silent exchange means, I can tell they’re at odds. Because she crosses her arms over her chest and strides forward to stand behind Tatiana.
“If you’re discussing who gets to kill Lucian Agosti, I’m throwing my name into the hat,” Natasha states boldly, her silver eyes daring Killian to say no.
Stunned speechless, I look between the newlyweds, trying to make sense of what the hell is going on. Natasha intends to kill Lucian herself? I know the girl is good with self-defense, and she can throw a mean knife. But she’s hardly a hardened soldier. Before the charity ball, when she killed a man to protect Killian, had she even taken a life before?
Glancing toward Quinn, I realize she must be as lost as I am. Because her green eyes are wide as they dart between the two Russian sisters and her brother. But the other three are having some kind of deadlock stare-down that tells me we’ve been intentionally left out of the loop. And as Killian and Natasha glare at each other, Tatiana sits back in her chair, pursing her lips in a look of smug satisfaction.
“No,” Killian says flatly. He practically snarls it, and I’ve never seen him so angry at Natasha before.
“What is going on?” Quinn asks quietly, her voice bordering on nervous.
My instincts tell me to go to her, to shelter her in my arms. But we still haven’t had a chance to talk to Killian yet. He woke me not two hours after I went back to my room and dragged me down here for this meeting.
I wait for Killian to speak up, but for once, his lips remain sealed as he holds Natasha in a steely gaze. And with a long-suffering sigh, she turns to Tatiana.
“I trust the Kings,” she says. “Everyone in this room. Completely. It’s time to tell them.”
What the actual hell?
I watch as Tatiana searches her sister’s eyes for some deep, dark secret. Then she nods. One stiff jerk of her head granting Natasha permission.
And when Natasha turns to look at me and Quinn, her eyes are almost apologetic. “I probably should have told you both a long time ago. I’ve wanted to for…well, since before the wedding.”
I scowl, casting Killian a questioning look as I realize my foster brother has been keeping secrets from me as well. I have no room to judge. And I don’t hold it against him, but I’m curious if he’s carried the burden as heavily as I have.
“I’m the assassin my father utilized for years to maintain our hold on Manhattan without any territory wars.”
If my jaw could physically drop any lower, it would have hit the floor. And I slowly take in Killian’s petite wife with new eyes as I let that nugget of information sink in.
Beside me, Quinn releases a shocked gasp, her eyes growing impossibly wide, making her look all the more innocent. “Okay, no wonder you’re a badass,” she gushes after a pregnant moment of silence.
Tatiana laughs, her eyes shining with new affection for Quinn as she takes in Killian’s sister.
Natasha smiles as well, her chin tucking softly toward her chest in a surprising display of humility. “Thanks, Quinn,” she says. Then her eyes cast to me, turning serious as they grow imploring. “I have the experience to kill Lucian, and I more than anyone, deserve the opportunity. He killed my father.” The last she says almost in a whisper, and my heart twists to see the deep sense of loss in her eyes.
No child should have their parents ripped from them like she did. And I fully understand where she’s coming from. But I can also sense the tension rolling off of Killian in waves. And I know without a doubt that he wants me on his side in this. Because she’s the woman he loves. And as close as we are, I know he would rather I risk my life than she risk hers.
In his shoes, I know I would feel the same. And I involuntarily glance toward Quinn as I think about what it would feel like to let her walk into Lucian Agosti’s house with the chance of never coming back out again. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be strong enough.
“I’ve done it before. I slipped in just last night,” I point out, searching for a strong enough reason that it should be me.
“But how many men have you killed quietly? Taken out without anyone noticing before you slip away?” Natasha counters.
Behind his desk, Killian sighs. He places his elbows on the glass surface and closes his eyes as he massages his temples. Because he knows the answer.
“None. But I’ve probably killed more men than you,” I try.
“Unlikely,” Tatiana quips with a smirk.
“Killian?” Natasha says gently, drawing his gaze.
And he looks a decade older as the worry settles into the lines of his face. “You can’t promise me you’ll succeed,” he says, his voice low and pained.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Killian! Lucian is not you.” Natasha hollers. “I mean, look at you! Could anybody kill you but me?”
The room goes deadly still and silent as my mind registers her words as if they’re rising to the surface of murky water. But before I can say anything, Quinn steps forward.
“I’m sorry, what? Did I just miss something, or did you just say you tried to kill my brother?” she asks, cocking her head with a level of attitude I rarely see in the youngest King sibling.
“It was one time,” Natasha says, holding her hands up.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Killian objects. “I recall besting you way more than one time, love. And as long as we’re talking about your track record counting toward your qualifications to kill Lucian, I think each one should count.”
Tatiana barks a laugh as she shakes her head, then everyone freezes as I shove out of my chair so quickly it skids backward.
“You came for Killian?” I ask, stalking slowly toward Natasha. And to her merit, she doesn’t even flinch. How did I not notice? I have this house rigged to the eyeballs with security precautions. I put our best men on shifts to ensure no one can break in because I know how many people want to kill Killian after they meet him. And yet this tiny wisp of a Russian managed to slip past all my defenses. More than once?
“Easy, big guy,” Tatiana warns, rising from her chair to pull Natasha back a step.
But the younger Sokolov sister stands her ground, tipping her chin up defiantly.
“Lance,” Killian commands, calling me off.
Not that I would ever lay a finger on Natasha. And it stings that he thinks I could. Then again, I imagine he doesn’t want to take any risks with her. The man’s so madly in love, he fell for a woman who tried to kill him. Crazy bastard.
“You didn’t even know our father sent her?” Tatiana asks, her voice calm and reasoning.
My eyes flash in her direction, and she flinches back before squaring her shoulders to stand her ground.
“No,” I state flatly. Then I cast a long look in Killian’s direction. He and I are going to have words after this—about his apparent death wish.
“Then, that alone should prove Natasha’s the best person for the job,” Tatiana says. And her eyes cast to Killian as she lets that sink in. “Your best man—a man we can all fully respect as both a fighter and a guard—never even knew she was here. And Natasha’s right. Lucian isn’t a fighter like you. He’s a strategist. Like me. If Natasha says she can take him, she can.”
I can see the frustration and defeat plainly written across Killian’s face. But I can’t find any rational defense against her argument. When she puts it that way, I see her point. Natasha might just be the best woman for the job—even if I hate the thought of risking her life over mine.
“Fine,” Killian concedes. Then he rises from his chair to walk to Natasha. And he cradles her cheek in his palm. “But if you’re doing this, I want to take the time to put together a solid plan we can all agree on. One that will guarantee you come back alive.”