Page 19 of King of Ashes (Kingdom of Sinners #4)

“You don’t work for her anymore,” Blaise says, but kindly. Not in the way Phoenix might demean me.

“Please, call me Keira. How is your mother?” I remember Jenna’s mother had a serious health condition.

It had shocked me that my family had provided for her and Jenna…

until I realized that they'd used Jenna in their plan to kill the Ifrinns. My parents didn’t care about Jenna and her mother.

They cared about keeping them controlled and quiet.

“She’s very well thanks to Blaise.” She looks up at him with pure, unadulterated love. My heart squeezes knowing I’d once felt that for Phoenix. I understand now that it was a childish love. How could I ever love a man who could treat me like this?

“And congratulations. I heard you’re married.”

She leans toward Blaise. “Yes. Life takes unexpected turns."

Phoenix's grip tightens on my waist. "Quite unexpected. Like finding out your fiancée's family murdered yours."

An uncomfortable silence falls.

Lucy clears her throat. "Dinner should be interesting."

During the meal, I'm seated between Phoenix and an associate I don't recognize. Phoenix barely acknowledges me except to occasionally brush his fingers against my exposed thigh, a gesture meant to remind me of my place. It makes me shudder in disgust although it’s possible he’ll think it’s in lust.

When the men become engrossed in business talk, I turn to Jenna across the table. “I see you’re expecting.”

Jenna looks down at her belly and then at Blaise, who smiles at her. “Yes. It won’t be long now.”

“Flynn will have a cousin to play with,” Lucy says, sitting on the other side of Blaise.

“Flynn?” I ask.

“Flynn is my and Flint’s son,” Lucy answers.

“Oh, how wonderful.” I think of Brigit and the cousins she’ll never know. For a moment I feel bad about that because Lucy and Jenna are good people. Even Flint and Blaise seem okay.

I turn my attention back to Jenna. "I’m delighted to hear your mother is well. She, and of course later, you, always had lovely orchids in my room."

Surprise flickers across Jenna's face, perhaps that I would remember such a detail. "She is doing wonderfully. She had a heart transplant last year."

"That's wonderful news," I say, genuinely pleased. "I'm so glad to hear it."

Jenna's smile seems genuine. "She speaks of you fondly sometimes. Says you always made sure she had the proper supplies for the greenhouse."

I feel Phoenix's attention shift to our conversation, though he pretends to be listening to the man on his other side.

"Your mother taught me everything I know about gardening," I tell Jenna.

"I’m terrible at it, of course. A complete black thumb.

" When my father rebuilt this home over the Ifrinn house, I was in a terrible state. It felt wrong to live here. I grieved for Phoenix and his family. Jenna’s mother coaxed me little by little into the garden.

Had me dig my fingers into the earth. Shared her love of gardening with me.

She planted seeds in me, helped me bloom and become a woman who could weather harsh storms.

I noted earlier that a brother is missing, but wasn’t sure if I should ask. But I figure Jenna is a safe person to inquire to.

"Is Ash unable to join us tonight?"

Jenna immediately looks at Phoenix whose fingers tighten on my thigh under the table. "He's with his wife. Hannah was shot during Hampton's little kidnapping scheme."

I nearly choke on my wine. "Shot? My father kidnapped someone?" I don’t know why I’m surprised. Many people have gone missing or dead at the hands of my father.

The table falls silent. All eyes turn to me with expressions ranging from surprise to suspicion.

"You didn't know?" Lucy asks more out of curiosity than surprise.

"No, I…" My voice trails off as I process this revelation. "I've been… removed from family business for some time."

Phoenix's laugh is cold. "Removed? You live in the same house."

"Living here doesn't mean I'm part of what happens here," I say quietly. He should know this. Why does he act like I’m part of my father’s inner circle?

Ever since I came home from Europe with Brigit, I've existed in a careful bubble within these walls. I avoided dinners where my parents hosted his associates. I turned a deaf ear to the raised voices behind closed doors. I pretended not to notice when strange men came and went at odd hours.

All to protect Brigit. To keep her innocent. To shield her from the violence and corruption that defined the Kean legacy.

"So you're claiming ignorance?" Phoenix's voice is dangerously soft. "That you had no idea what your father was doing under this roof?"

"It's the truth." I meet his gaze steadily. "My only concern has been…” I trail off, not wanting to remind him about Brigit.

His eyes narrow. “Your lover?”

I roll my eyes and purse my lips as I turn away.

“Who’s the girl?” Blaise asks, and inwardly, I wince. The last thing I want to do is bring attention to Brigit.

“She’s my god-sister.”

“You’re close to her,” Blaise states, but it seems like a genuine statement, not a threat. I recall he’d infiltrated the family, so he’d probably seen me with her.

“I am.”

“The things she must have seen,” Phoenix quips, shoving a piece of steak in his mouth. I wish he’d choke on it.

“She hasn’t seen anything.” I look at Phoenix, wanting him to do this one thing for me. Keep her out of his plans. "She deserves a childhood untainted by…" I gesture vaguely around the table. "All of this."

Phoenix studies me, his blue eyes searching mine, for what, I’m not sure. Deception, maybe. For a moment, I see a flicker of the boy I once loved, thoughtful, perceptive.

"I noticed the household was highly compartmentalized," Blaise offers unexpectedly. "Jenna worked here for years and didn't know half of what was happening."

Jenna nods. "It's true. I was blissfully… or perhaps ignorantly… unaware."

I give her a grateful look, though I know her support won't sway Phoenix. He's determined to see me as complicit in everything my family has done.

But for the first time since he stormed back into my life, I see uncertainty in Phoenix's eyes.

The evening drags on, each minute stretching like hours. Phoenix and his brothers share celebratory stories with Rileys, Donovans, and the other families who helped them bring my father down.

When dinner is finished, I don’t want to leave the table as I’m able to hide much of my body in this ridiculous dress under the table.

As we move from dinner to drinks in the parlor, I feel eyes following me, assessing, judging.

The red dress Phoenix forced me to wear has achieved exactly what he intended.

I've become a spectacle to ogle and sneer at.

"Phoenix, you lucky bastard," a man with a thick Boston accent calls out, raising his glass. "You have excellent taste in women."

Another chimes in, "Kean's daughter in your bed? That's the sweetest revenge I can imagine."

I stand perfectly still as they discuss me as if I'm not present. My cheeks burn but I keep my expression neutral, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort.

"Tell us, Phoenix," a third man asks, leaning forward with a leer, "does she fight you or has she learned to submit already?"

Phoenix's laugh is dark and cruel. "I don’t fuck and tell." He slides his arm around my waist, fingers pressing into my hip. "But I will say that Keira knows exactly who's in charge now."

The men roar with approval while across the room, I notice a cluster of women whispering behind their hands, shooting glances my way.

Their expressions range from pity to disgust to smug satisfaction at my fall from grace.

Only Lucy and Jenna avoid participating in my public humiliation.

They actually look horrified. But what can they do? Nothing.

"I need some air," I murmur, attempting to step away from Phoenix's grip.

His fingers tighten. "Stay," he commands softly, for my ears alone. "You're exactly where you belong."

I meet his eyes, searching for any hint of the boy who once looked at me with tenderness, who whispered promises under moonlight. I find nothing but cold calculation.

Phoenix raises his glass. "To new beginnings," he announces to the room. "And to my beautiful fiancée, who looks absolutely ravishing tonight."

The guests cheer and drink, but their eyes tell a different story. To them, I'm not a fiancée. I'm a trophy, a spoil of war, physical proof that the Ifrinns have reclaimed their throne.

I smile because I must, laugh when expected, and let Phoenix display me like a prized possession. Each moment chips away at something vital inside me, but I endure. For Brigit. For survival.

The evening seems never-ending, but I’m finally able to excuse myself to get another drink, desperate for just a moment away from Phoenix’s possessive grip.

As I reach for a glass of champagne, a hand brushes against my exposed lower back. I stiffen, turning to find one of Phoenix's associates, a heavyset man with thinning hair and alcohol-flushed cheeks.

"The boss is a lucky man," he slurs, his eyes roving over my body. "But maybe you'd like to try something different before you settle down?" His hand slides lower, cupping my backside through the thin fabric.

I step away, revulsion crawling up my spine. "Remove your hand before I remove it for you."

He laughs, crowding me against the bar. "Feisty. I like that. Come on, sweetheart. Why would Phoenix whore you out like this if it wasn’t to reward men like me who helped him claim you?”

"I believe my fiancée made herself clear." Phoenix materializes beside us, his expression murderous.

The man withdraws his hand immediately, a nervous smile replacing his leer. "No harm intended, Boss. Just admiring the merchandise."

Phoenix's jaw tightens. "Get out."

The man scurries away, but instead of checking whether I'm alright, Phoenix rounds on me, gripping my arm painfully.