146: Bloody Spawns
SERA
My husband was seated on the kitchen counter, his lips twitching as I strapped the pressure cuff on his arm.
"You know," I muttered, pressing the button, "most men your age sit in rocking chairs and yell at pigeons. Not dodge assassination attempts and stress-test their wives' sanity."
Killian smirked, his head tilting towards me. "Maybe I like keeping you on your toes, Angel."
"Mhm. Keep it up and you'll be keeping me in widow's black."
He chuckled, unbothered, which made me want to smack him. Because on the counter beside him sat two letters: one as red as spilled blood, Rue's first real threat, and another from a Don who apparently didn't appreciate Gio's latest hobby.
I picked up the second letter, waving it at him. "Our son kidnapped a Don's mistress."
Killian's mouth curved into a grin, the kind that was equal parts amused and exasperated. "He's resourceful."
"Resourceful? Killian, he stole a man's girlfriend."
"Mistress," he corrected, as if that made it better.
I gave him my deadliest glare. "Do you hear yourself?!"
He lifted a shoulder. "The Don should be flattered. Gio doesn't waste time on women who aren't worth the trouble."
"Oh, God." I slapped the letter down, pacing. "Between your daughter getting death threats and your son kidnapping girlfriends like he's running a Black Friday sale, I'm going to have a stroke."
Killian leaned back on his palms, watching me storm across the kitchen. "You look good when you're angry."
I froze. "Killian Cross, do not flirt with me while our empire is one phone call away from collapse."
"Not flirting," he said innocently, though his eyes glinted with pure mischief. "Just appreciating the view."
"Unbelievable," I muttered, pressing a hand to my temple as I returned to his side.
He hopped off the counter with the kind of grace that reminded me exactly why people still feared him. He slid behind me, wrapping those strong arms around my waist until my back hit his chest. L
"Relax, Angel," he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. "The kids are reckless, yes. But they're ours. Which means they're dangerous enough to survive their own chaos."
I swallowed hard. "You're too calm."
"That's because I know exactly what I'll do to anyone stupid enough to touch Rue." His tone softened into a growl that raised goosebumps across my skin. "Or to threaten Gio."
I sighed, leaning back into him despite myself. "You know what I'm really afraid of?"
"Hm?"
"That our kids will kill you before your enemies ever get the chance."
Killian laughed, his lips curving against my jaw. "Let them try."
The machine beeped.
I narrowed my eyes at the numbers flashing on the screen.
"Killian Cross."
His brow arched, a little too casual. "Yes, Angel?"
"Your blood pressure is high."
He smirked. "You sure you didn't press the wrong button?"
I jabbed a finger into his chest. "Don't you dare. I know how to read numbers, and I know when my husband's heart is working overtime."
For a split second, genuine worry flickered across his face, disappearing in an instant. Then he flashed me an infuriating smirk. But I'd been married to this man long enough to know better.
"It's nothing," he dismissed, reaching to unstrap the cuff.
I slapped his hand away. "Don't you dare lie to me."
His jaw flexed, the predator in him bristling against being cornered. "Sera—"
"Don't 'Sera' me. Two letters threaten our children in the same day, and suddenly your blood pressure spikes? You think I don't notice? You think I don't know you're worried?"
His silence was answer enough.
Killian lived for chaos. He thrived on enemies, on blood, on war. But our kids? Our kids were his soft spot. And now, both Rue and Gio had managed to paint targets on their backs.
I softened, pressing my hand to his cheek. "You'll kill yourself carrying all of this alone."
His eyes locked on mine, a little wild and a little vulnerable. "Better me than them."
My throat tightened. I wanted to smack him and kiss him in the same breath. So I did the next best thing. I smacked the back of his head.
"Ow," he grunted, though he was smiling now.
"You stubborn bastard," I muttered.
That earned me a wicked laugh, the sound echoing in the kitchen. He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. "That's why I married you, Angel. You're the only one crazy enough to keep up."
But even as he teased me, I could still feel the tension in his body and the weight of what he wasn't saying. My husband was worried.
....
The kettle hissed, steam curling into the kitchen air as I poured hot water over the herbs. Chamomile, valerian root, and a dash of honey. My calming mix. Not that Killian would ever admit he needed it.
Behind me, I heard him curse under his breath. Again.
I turned. He was sitting on the counter with his elbows on his knees, rubbing his temple like an overworked accountant. His phone was glued to his ear.
"Pick up, Rue," he muttered.
No answer. Again.
I set the tea down by his side and reached over to press my hand to his shoulders. His muscles were tight. I started kneading gently, working my thumb into the knots at the base of his neck.
He grunted, half in relief, half in stubborn resistance.
"Drink the tea, Killian," I urged.
"Angel, I don't need—"
"Drink it, pretty please?"
He chuckled, grabbed the mug and took a whiff of it. His thumb hovered over Rue's name again. He called, and it went straight to voicemail. Again.
The tension in his muscles grew. He was seconds from snapping the phone in two.
Suddenly, the screen lit up. Rue was calling.
Before Killian could lunge for it, I snatched the phone right out of his grip.
His head whipped around, his eyes flashing. "Sera—"
I pressed the green button and held the phone to my ear. "Rue?"
There was a long pause on the other end, static crackling. Then my daughter spoke, "Mom?"
Every muscle in Killian's body stilled. His head turned slowly, those blue eyes filled with relief.
I squeezed his shoulder, my own heart pounding as I whispered, "We've got her."
She yawned groggily. "Mom? ...What time is it?"
I blinked. Did she just—?
Killian sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing.
"What have you been doing?" I asked slowly.
"Sleeping," she mumbled, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "Why?"
My jaw nearly hit the floor. Sleeping? After a death threat and thirty missed calls?
I turned the phone slightly, glaring at Killian as if to say, 'Do you hear this child?' His expression was priceless. Utter disbelief.
He hissed low enough for only me to hear. "Sleeping? She has half the goddamn underworld gunning for her, and she's napping?"
I covered the receiver with my hand. "Don't you dare explode."
He ran a hand through his hair, muttering curses in a language I didn't care to translate.
Meanwhile, Rue yawned again on the line. "Is everything okay? You both sound... weird."
Weird. WEIRD. My daughter was either suicidal or utterly clueless. Probably both.
I forced calm into my voice. "Rue, darling... when people call you thirty times, you answer. You don't take a nap."
"Oh." When she spoke again, she sounded unapologetic: "Well, I was tired."
Killian practically growled, his hand darting for the phone. I smacked his arm away, keeping my smile sharp.
"Sweetheart," I said through gritted teeth, "your father and I need to have a very long talk with you. And you'd better be fully awake when we do."
Her confused little "Uh... okay?" nearly sent Killian over the edge.
I hung up before either of us could say something we'd regret.
The kitchen was silent for a full three seconds.
Then Killian exploded. "Asleep? ASLEEP? Sera, I swear to God, our daughter is going to put me in an early grave!"
Killian was still muttering about disrespectful children and early graves, when we heard the front door creak open.
We both turned and headed out to the sitting room together.
And there he was.
Giovanni Cross. Our disaster. He practically swaggered in like he'd just won the lottery.
And right beside him was a girl.
A beautiful girl with dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes wide as if she'd just stepped into the lion's den. Early twenties. Innocent-looking. Too innocent.
My stomach dropped. Oh no.
Killian's eyes narrowed immediately, that calculating mafia king gaze stripping the girl down to her bones.
I, on the other hand, nearly dropped my teacup. "Gio..." My voice cracked. "Tell me that's not the Don's mistress."
The girl stiffened.
Gio blinked and then actually had the audacity to smile. "What? No. This is..." He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "My girlfriend. And the mother of my unborn child."
Killian froze.
His face went pale, color draining so fast I thought he might actually keel over.
I stared between them, my brain short-circuiting. Girlfriend. Unborn child. Mistress. Don's wrath. Gio's smug grin.
"Holy hell," I muttered, slapping a hand to my forehead. "Our kids are trying to kill us."
The girl shifted nervously, whispering, "I—I told you this was a bad idea..."
Killian finally moved, turning his haunted gaze on me as if I had all the answers.
"She's pregnant?" He rasped, his voice laced with utter disbelief.
"Yes," Gio said proudly. "We're having a baby."
Kill me. Now.