Page 2 of King of Ashes (Kingdom of Sinners #4)

KEIRA

C haos erupts through the house. Everyone from my mother down to the lowest member of staff is panicked. For a moment, I wonder where my father is, but then it doesn’t matter. The house is under attack, and just like I’ve had to do over the last ten years, I need to protect myself.

I rush from my bedroom where I’d been working on my latest book, my secret career I’m using to save money to finally escape my family and this Mob world.

Funny how it’s Mafia romance that’s funding my plan.

If women really knew what it was like, they’d probably think twice about wanting to live in this world.

For example, would they like living in a home rebuilt over the ashes of what their father burned to the ground, killing so many people? It’s creepy, right?

But that’s where I’ve lived since returning from my one-year exile in Europe.

My parents even gave me the room that would have been Phoenix’s had his house not burned and had he lived.

Except, as it turned out, he did live. He lived and spent the last ten years hiding and planning.

He didn’t come back for me, which tells me my parents were probably right. He didn’t love me. He used me.

Phoenix and his brothers’ return has been filled with violence. They killed Ronan. And I suspect they’re why my house is currently filled with gunfire and screaming. They’ve come to take back what my father took from them.

I run up the back stairs to the third floor where Nanny Fiona is busy putting Brigit, my parents’ nine-year-old goddaughter, to bed. Brigit is the center of my world, the only reason I haven’t tried escaping sooner.

Nanny looks at me wide-eyed, holding a bat and pushing Brigit behind her as I enter. “Oh… it’s you.”

“You need to take Brigit and hide in the attic.” I grab clothes and Brigit's favorite stuffed animal.

“What’s happening, Keira?” Brigit’s voice quavers. It breaks my heart and makes me hate my parents and Phoenix even more, which is a lot considering I’ve had ten years to stew on it.

“I don’t know exactly, but it’s really important that you hide. No one can know you’re here.” Especially not Phoenix. “Take the back stairs. Go into the secret room. When I can, I’ll come up and let you know what’s going on.”

“Come on, sweetie,” Nanny says, ushering Brigit out the door.

“Keira, will you come with us?” Brigit asks, her gray eyes looking up at me in fear.

“I can’t right now. But I’ll find you. Listen to Nanny Fiona, okay?” I pull her in for a hug, but it’s a quick one as I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. “Go. Hurry.”

I watch as they rush to the end of the hall and disappear around the corner. The house is loaded with secret passages and tunnels. Some are from the original estate. Others, like the secret rooms in the attic, were added by my father.

“You!” A hand wraps around my arm and yanks me back.

“It’s the Keans’ daughter,” another man, who I recognize as working for John O’Donnell, says.

John’s daughter was supposed to marry my brother Ronan.

Maybe if he had, we wouldn’t be in the mess.

But Blaise Ifrinn killed him. And now Hannah O’Donnell is married to Ash Ifrinn, probably in a deal to secure the O’Donnells’ alliance against us.

All of it has apparently led up to the overtaking of my home.

My parents and I will certainly be dead before the night is through.

“Bring her down. We’ll hold her until Phoenix tells us what he wants to do with her,” the second man says.

The first man’s gaze leers over my body. “I know what to do with her.”

Why do men always think with their dicks? And why are sex and violence as close together as love and hate?

He tugs me downstairs and puts me in my mother’s parlor, and there I wait, and wait, and pray that no one finds Brigit.

It’s hours before a man enters the room. “Boss wants to see you.”

I imagine that’s Phoenix. He’s won, after all.

I rise, keeping my head lifted as I follow the men through the house and down the stairs to the basement.

I’ve spent ten years toughening up. Learning to be strong.

Standing up when I have to and knowing when to back down.

I won’t tremble for them. If I can arrange my freedom and Brigit’s, I will. If not, I’ll die.

I come around the corner and nearly stumble at my first look at Phoenix in ten years.

For a moment, I’m eighteen and seeing the man I love.

He’s older, thirty-one now, but I can still see Phoenix in his features.

He watches me and for a moment, I think he’s back ten years ago too, but then his eyes harden, becoming dark, deadly, filled with hate.

Now I don’t see Phoenix, the man I knew, at all.

I’m brought to him, and that’s when I see my parents imprisoned, my father on his knees.

I won’t lie, I like it. Phoenix and his brothers have brought my father down and I’m glad of it.

But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to align with the Ifrinns.

I still don’t know if they started all this by sending Phoenix to woo me as part of a plan to ruin my father.

I clasp my shaking hands in front of me, the terror of the moment finally catching up to me but not wanting him to see my fear.

He steps closer to me. "Your mother offers you to me like chattel. I wonder, would you willingly sacrifice yourself to save your family?"

I arch a brow, not at all surprised my parents would trade me for their lives. It’s that anger at all of them for treating me like chattel that has me saying, “You need a cow, Mr. Ifrinn?”

His expression stays cold and calculating. “I don’t.”

“But you need a wife,” Mother says. “You know how much more respect married men receive.”

He shrugs. “Maybe, but why would I marry the daughter of the man I just defeated? It looks weak.”

I can’t stop the stab of pain at his words. At one time, he spoke of love and marriage to me. Now he looks at me with the same disdain my parents do. No, not disdain. Pure hatred.

“Those who still respect Hampton will be forced to respect you since he approves of the match?—”

Father growls at Mother. “I never said?—”

“Let your wife finish, Hampton,” Phoenix snaps at him.

“And you’ll have a Kean under your thumb. Isn’t that what you want, Mr. Ifrinn? To humiliate us?”

I hate you. I hate you all.

"Marriage. A true union between our families." Phoenix’s gaze travels over me much in the same way that O’Donnell’s man had. I feel violated. Ten years ago, I’d have never expected Phoenix to look at me like that. At anyone like that. It proves how naive and wrong I was about him.

"You'll be mine in every way. No conditions, no escape clause. Your complete surrender in exchange for your family's lives,” he finishes.

Mother makes a small sound of triumph.

"Your parents will live, though imprisoned. But you…" He steps closer to me, close enough that I can feel the heat, the hate, radiating off him. "You belong to me. For me to do whatever I want, whenever I want."

I understand what he means. Like everyone else, he’s turned into a man who uses his dick to oppress and control women.

“Not imprisoned,” Mother says. “In exchange for our freedom.”

He laughs. “That’s not happening. Not anytime soon. But I won’t kill you.” He turns back to me. “What do you say?”

I won’t exchange my life for my parents’. They didn’t earn that sort of loyalty from me. Not after everything they’ve made me do.

I also don’t want to give Phoenix the satisfaction of seeing my fear or hurt, so I lift my chin in defiance. "And if I refuse?"

"Then I destroy everything. All of you. Even that kid you’ve got hidden somewhere in the house.”

My breath catches. How does he know about Brigit? I remember how his brother Blaise had infiltrated the family. Had he paid enough attention to know about Brigit? I’d heard he’d married our former gardener, Jenna. Maybe she told him.

He can smell my fear. He leans toward me, his voice dropping lower. "That’s right. I know there’s a child somewhere in this house. I know you’re the one hiding her.”

He’s threatening to kill her too. How had I ever loved this man?

I can’t think about that now. Now, all I can do is try to save Brigit. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry you, Phoenix.” I’ll do anything to protect her.

He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger and without warning, he claims my mouth with his, kissing me hard enough to bruise. I gasp against his lips, and for a moment, I'm back to those stolen moments ten years ago, when our love felt pure and possible.

But this isn't that innocent time. This kiss is about possession, about power, about marking me as his. My fingers dig into his shoulders, wanting to make him stop, but he doesn’t. It’s like power is building in him the longer the kiss goes on.

But if he thinks he can own me, he’s got another thing coming. Oh, sure, he can force me to be his wife. He can claim my body. But I’ll never be his.

Never.