99: Let Me Prove You Wrong
SERA
I swallowed hard, the photo still burning in my mind. Jonas. My neighbor. My childhood best friend. The one everyone said was dead but that was far from the truth. I cleared my throat, breaking the thick silence.
"Killian," I said softly, "Sofia just sent me a message. It's a photo of the man behind the name "Black Scorpion."
He tensed.
"I recognized him." I told him and confusion flashed in his eyes.
"His name is Jonas Reed," I said, watching him carefully. His eyes were alert now.
"His family were members of my father's syndicate." I added.
Killian's brow furrowed. "How close were you two?"
Of course, he would figure that out.
I hesitated. Part of me wanted to shield that kid whom I used to know. But he was a monster now. He'd hurt my husband in more ways that one.
"We were... close." I told Killian. "He used to joke about marrying me. He said I'd be his queen."
Killian smirked, a flash of amusement breaking through the pain. "His queen, huh?"
I blinked, surprised by his reaction.
"Yeah. Weird, right? The mafia prince and his little 'queen.'"
He chuckled softly. "Sounds like trouble."
I met his gaze, the weight of the past pressing down on us both.
"That 'trouble' is exactly why Black Scorpion isn't done with us. Not by a long shot."
Killian let out a long, weary sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm going to head over to my dad's archives. It's still tucked away in his estate. Maybe I'll find something he left behind that can explain all this."
His voice was rough and bitter. He must be so frustrated. The old man was causing him trouble even in his death.
I nodded, swallowing the lump tightening in my throat. "Okay."
I reached out and helped him to his feet. He moved stiffly, the aftershocks of withdrawal still clinging to him.
"Let me help you get dressed," I said, already moving towards the wardrobe.
Killian didn't argue, he clearly didn't have the strength to. His blue eyes met mine, and I could tell that he was grateful for whatever normalcy I could offer.
I grabbed a soft, dark shirt, sliding it over his trembling arms, then helped him into a pair of tailored trousers.
When he was ready, I pulled him close, steadying him with a hand on his back.
"We'll face this together," I whispered. "Whatever you find in that place, you're not alone."
Killian's nodded halfheartedly.
He managed to steady himself on his feet, and I stayed close, my hand firm on his back, guiding him down the stairs.
When we reached the living room, the soft glow of the lamps cast long shadows across the walls, but there was one light that made the darkness seem less suffocating. Our baby girl.
Rue stood waiting by the couch, she seemed...concerned.
The moment she saw Killian, her face lit up with a mixture of relief and determination, as if she understood, in her own way, how fragile he was.
Without a word, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his legs, pulling him into a tight hug. Killian's body stiffened for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness. But then he relaxed, crouching to rest his forehead against hers. Her tiny hands reached up for his face and she gently pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Daddy," she whispered. "Feel better."
My heart grew warm and I'm pretty sure Killian's did too.
"You don't have to worry. I'll watch over her. Rafael will come over soon," Ethan told me and I nodded.
"You should carry your Glock, K. You never know," he said to Killian who grunted.
....
The heavy silence of the Cross estates' archives swallowed us as we stepped inside a cold room lined with rows of filing cabinets and shelves with yellowed documents.
I watched Killian methodically pull out files, his fingers trembling slightly while his eyes stayed sharp with determination. Beside him, I spread out the papers we'd brought along, scanning for anything that could unravel the Black Scorpion's venomous legacy.
Minutes ticked by, the quiet broken only by the faint rustle of pages and the occasional low murmur between us as we tried piercing clues together.
Then, all of a sudden, we heard the sound of a gunshot. My heart lurched.
Killian's eyes went wide in disbelief. In one swift motion, he drew his gun from the holster at his hip. I mirrored him, sliding my knives free from their sheathes hidden beneath my jacket. My fingers curled tightly around the cold steel.
Without a word, I stepped close and pressed a soft but urgent kiss to Killian's lips.
"I've got this," I whispered against his mouth.
He smirked, his eyes glinting with pride.
I sashayed to the door, feeling the burst of adrenaline kick in. Killian followed right behind me, his gun raised.
We peered out cautiously, scanning the dimly lit hallways.
But there was nothing. No sign of movement or silhouette in the shadows.
Then I caught a glint of metal half-hidden in the shadows near the far column. My grip tightened around my knife, but the moment I blinked, it was gone, as if it had melted into the dark.
Was this a trap or a warning?
Or maybe the ghosts of this place stirring? Giving that this place belonged to Jameson Cross, I wouldn't be surprised if we were being haunted by the ghosts. The man had been an epitome of evil.
Killian's eyes met mine, and without a word we slipped back into the archives, knowing damn well we weren't alone.
Killian's steps were slow, the exhaustion evident in the stiffness of his movements. I trailed just behind him, my own nerves buzzing from the gunshot and the way my body still hummed with adrenaline.
As we stepped into the grand foyer, Killian's gaze flickered down to me, his dark eyes narrowing with a sudden alertness that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Are you wearing that mini dress and those lacy hose on purpose?" His voice was low, laced with something more primal than irritation.
Now this was a good opening. I had a feeling the shooter was close by. I bet nothing could be more annoying than seeing your enemies get intimate right in front of you. So, if they wanted a show, I'd give them one.
I shrugged nonchalantly, a sly smile curling on my lips. "Maybe," I teased, "I wasn't sure if you still had the ability to break me in half, so I figured I'd tempt fate."
His eyes darkened and the air between us thickened with heat.
"You're really trying to seduce me while I'm in this poor condition?" His voice dropped to a growl, every word heavy with raw hunger and frustration.
I shrugged again, my little smile turning into a confident smirk. "Maybe I am. Someone's got to remind you that you're still alive, even if you're barely standing."
The growl that rolled out of him sent heat pooling low in my abdomen. Was I finally getting my man back?
Without warning, he closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, his strong hands gripping my arms and pulling me roughly to my feet.
Before I could react, he pinned me against the cold wall, his body pressing into mine, leaving no space between us.
His mouth claimed mine in a fierce, demanding kiss that had me moaning like a freaking slut.
Outwardly, I was playing along with him. But inside, relief blossomed in my chest. His touch was real. His strength was still there. Most of all, he was here with me. Not a ghost haunted by Arabella's assault, but Killian. My Killian.
I'd feared that the violence she'd inflicted had broken something deep inside him, leaving him closed off and unreachable. But this kiss? It shattered that fear for a moment, proving that beneath all the pain and darkness, the man I loved was fighting back.
When he finally pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes searched mine with a fierce intensity.
"I wasn't sure if you still had the strength to break me in half," I said, keeping my voice light and teasing, "but maybe you're not as broken as I thought."
Killian's jaw clenched, his eyes still smoldering with a fire that refused to be extinguished. "Don't push me," he warned.
My smile widened. God, I was so in love with him. My Killian could never truly been defeated.
Killian pulled back further. But the moment he tried to step away, I wasn't about to let him slip through my fingers. My hands shot up, gripping the collar of his shirt and dragging him back towards me with a tug.
"Not so fast," I whispered. "You don't get to walk away after kissing me like that, babe."
I could feel the tremble in his body that came with the ache, the craving, and that desperate need to remind himself he was still alive.
I stepped in closer, pressing my body flush against his, running my fingers slowly up the side of his neck, down to his chest. "You think you're in no shape to handle me? Let me prove you wrong," I teased, my breath hot against his ear.
Before he could respond, I smirked and traced my hand lower, grazing the edge of his belt. His hands caught mine, but instead of pulling away, he captured me with a rough, possessive grip. Without hesitation, he scooped me off my feet in one fluid motion, carrying me over to the mahogany table that dominated the room.
The moment he set me down on the polished surface, Killian's lips were on my neck, sucking and biting in a way that stole my breath away. One hand slid up to cradle the back of my head, the other trailing down up towards my heat...