76: Of Wet Skin And War Plans
KILLIAN
The knock on the door jolted me out of the haze of pleasure that had me in a chokehold. And as if that wasn't enough, I heard the sound of her voice. Rue's.
"Daddy?"
I swear, every neuron in my brain flatlined in an instant. My heart skipped several beats, my soul nearly leaving my body. Sera froze, still hunched between my legs. Her lips were parted in shock, her eyes wide. My cock, which was currently throbbing and dangerously close to exploding, had never felt more tragically disrespected.
"I..." I cleared my throat, which suddenly felt like I'd swallowed sandpaper. "J-Just a second, princess."
Sera immediately scrambled off me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and snatching the sheets up to cover herself. I shoved the waistband of my pants back up, wincing at the painful ache still raging below. Fucking hell, I couldn't even think straight.
Sera tossed me one of my shirts, and I threw it on in record time, tugging it low to cover the damn tent still very much pitching in my pants. Then the door creaked open... and there she was.
Rue.
She was clutching her fluffy bunny pillow to her chest, her blue eyes red while her cheeks were wet.
"My princess," I whispered, dropping to my knee in front of her as Sera rushed over. "What's wrong?"
"I had a bad dream," Rue mumbled, dragging her bunny by one ear. "You weren't there. I...I thought you were gone again."
My chest tightened, and I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight, my shirt barely shielding her from the fever of my skin. Sera swooped in, scooping Rue into her arms with a soft hum and a kiss to her cheek.
"I've got her," Sera whispered, brushing Rue's curls back. "Go cool off."
Yeah.
Cool off.
I was boiling with frustration, with want, with the unbearable tension of almost finally having her again...and being interrupted by the very person who might be our daughter.
So I did the only thing I could do. I headed into the bathroom with my dick still rock hard and my pride in tatters.
The second the water hit my skin, I hissed like I'd just been doused with acid. It was freezing, but it wasn't enough. The image of her, her lips wrapped around me, her wicked little smirk, the way she’d said, "My favorite toy is within reach..."
Fuck. I wrapped a hand around myself, pressing the other to the tiles. The ache was unbearable.
I stroked slowly, biting down on my lower lip to muffle the groans that threatened to escape.
Her voice, her full lips, her tongue, the damn wedding ring on her finger glinting between us...
My hand moved faster.
"Fuck," I hissed again, imagining her under me, moaning my name, taking me so perfectly well. Because she was made for me.
My release hit me hard and fast, my abdomen clenching hard.
I rested my forehead against the glass as I came down from the high. My chest heaved, and I gritted my teeth hard.
This was only a temporary fix. The real hunger hadn't gone anywhere.
...
By the time I got back to the room with my hair damp and my shirt changed, I was ready to collapse into bed and pretend that tonight didn't turn me into a feral animal. But then I paused by my closet when their voices drifted to me. It was the warmest thing I'd heard all day. I wanted to get used to this so badly.
Taking a deep breath, I headed further towards the bed and found Rue curled into Sera's side on the bed, her bunny pillow tucked under her chin. Her small voice was soft when she spoke.
"Can Aunt Sera... be my mommy now?"
My heart skipped a beat, the air leaving my lungs. Sera had gone still, her eyes turning glassy.
"Do you want that?" she whispered, running her fingers through Rue's hair.
Rue nodded, snuggling closer.
"She makes the scary dreams go away."
My throat tightened, and for a moment... I could see it.
Us.
Sera, me, and Rue. Together as a family.
But beneath that image simmered the truth we didn't fully know yet.
...
One week. That’s how long I’d waited.
One week of pretending to be calm when every part of me was counting the hours until I could confirm the truth. Tonight, I wasn’t in my suit and tie.
I was in my other skin, the one people feared.
The bass thudded low beneath the floorboards as I weaved through the heart of Sanctum. My club. Beneath the liquor, laughter, and flashing lights, it was a front for my more lucrative trades, such as arms, offshore laundering, and certain debts better left unspoken.
Adam, the manager of the club and one of my oldest men, followed behind me. He was loyal, brutal when it counted, and sharp enough to keep a place like this running without me lifting a finger.
“Marseille’s still trying to force the deal,” he said. “They’re offering two points above the original cut.”
“They’ll offer ten by next week. Let them stew in their own sweat,” I responded.
He nodded.
"Numbers from last week?" I asked without looking at him.
Adam cleared his throat. “Up by twelve percent. Mostly from the syndicate reps dropping by after the Vegas hit. Word is out that we handled it clean.”
I nodded once. It was expected. Efficiency bred loyalty. And fear.
"She's running smoothly tonight," he pointed out. "Numbers are up. We flipped the surveillance system to remote, so all feeds are offsite. As you asked."
"Good," I droned. "And Dmitri?"
"Still sniffing around. Should I push him harder?"
"No. Let him think we trust him. There's more power in letting the rat believe he's hidden."
“Yes, sir.”
We passed the private booths draped in dark curtains and cigarette haze. A few of the dancers slowed when they spotted me. They always did. Some out of curiosity. Others out of hunger. But one of them moved this time, foolishly.
She was a pretty young dancer, and she oozed with desperation. She pressed up against me and spoke with a breathy voice.
"Mr. Cross... don't you want some company before you go?"
Her perfume was too strong. But really, it was admirable how foolishly bold she was.
I stared at her with a gaze so cold it made her flinch.
"Tell me," I uttered. "Is this your first night here?"
She blinked. "No..."
Slowly, I looked down at the hand still resting on my suit.
“Remove it,” I ordered.
She blinked up at me, clearly mistaking my silence for tolerance.
“I just thought—”
“You thought wrong,” I deadpanned, my gaze locking with hers.
She paled, stumbling back.
“In this world,” I continued. “A man in my position is very particular about who puts their hands on him. That kind of mistake, sweetheart? Could’ve earned you a bullet between the eyes.”
She went even paler, visibly trembling.
I gestured to Adam. "She's done here. Give her severance. Make sure she never steps through these doors again."
“Yes, sir.”
The girl stumbled back farther, nearly tripping in her heels.
I buried a hand in my pocket and headed for the rear entrance.
The cool night air bit at my skin, embracing me. Just then, my phone rang. It was the one call I’d been waiting for.
"Mr. Cross?"
The voice was male, British, and clipped. "Dr. Lennox from the lab. You requested direct notification of the results."
I flipped the cover of the lighter in my hand with my thumb.
"I'm listening."
"We ran a full maternal DNA analysis. The samples from Miss Arabella Black and Rue Cross..." He paused for a moment. "There's zero biological relation. Arabella is not the child's mother."
"I see," I said softly.
"There's more," he added. "We performed a triple-match against a comparative maternal sample you sent weeks ago, labeled 'SC.' The probability of maternity with that sample is 99.9998%.
My gaze froze on the night horizon.
Sera.
Seraphina Cross.
The girl I married for a lie... had given me the only truth that ever mattered.
Rue was hers. Ours.
"I assume you sent the full report to my encrypted inbox."
"Yes, sir. Five minutes ago."
"Good," I murmured. "Delete everything from your system. This conversation never happened. You never heard those names. You understand?"
"Of course, Mr. Cross."
I ended the call, relief settling in my guts.
"Problem?" Adam asked from behind.
"No," I replied. "Just confirmation."
"Of what?"
"The fact that I've been far too merciful."
I turned to look at him with a faint smile.
"Prepare the black files. Call in Anthony. Make sure Arabella doesn't leave the city."
Adam raised a brow. "Are we keeping it clean?"
My smile widened. But before I could give him a response, my phone rang, and I brought the screen to my line of vision. It was her. Arabella.