Page 21 of King of Ashes (Kingdom of Sinners #4)

PHOENIX

M y chest feels like it's being torn apart. I've spent ten years building walls around my heart, constructing justifications for my hatred, for my cruelty. But Keira throwing it in my face is shattering everything. It’s pissing me off, making me feel like a fucking abuser, and breaking me apart all at once. Worse, it makes me doubt myself. What if I've been wrong? What if she was clueless to her father’s plan a decade ago? What if she’s as much a victim as I am?

“You think that this is what this is? That all I want is to fuck you and humiliate you?”

She laughs derisively and gestures to the dress. “Come on, Phoenix. Why else would you have put me in this? Showed me off like I’d go to the highest bidder?”

Her accusation makes me sick even as I know she’s not wrong.

I remember her entrance tonight. How she navigated the room full of predators with her chin held high despite the dress I forced on her.

My first thought had been she's fucking magnificent.

The crimson dress clings to her body like a second skin, revealing more than it conceals.

I meant to break her, to strip away her pride, yet she's maintained more dignity in her humiliation than I have in my revenge.

"I can't do this anymore," she says, her voice breaking. "Just let me go."

But I can't. I've never been able to let her go, not really. Even when I thought she'd betrayed me, her ghost haunted every quiet moment, every dark night.

A pounding echoes through my door. “Phoenix!” Blaise’s voice follows.

“Go away.” I can’t hardly think with Keira stripping away everything I thought I knew. I can’t add dealing with my brother on top of it.

“No can do, Bro.” The door opens and both Blaise and Flint push their way in. Their gazes immediately go to Keira and I see relief in their faces. What the fuck did they think I was going to do to her?

Blaise turns his attention to me. “You’ve got guests.”

“They can wait.”

“If you want to reassure them of your power, you’ll return to them.” Flint takes off his coat and offers it to Keira. The gesture pisses me off more. I’m not a monster.

Liar , my conscience says.

To my surprise, Keira shakes her head. “Thank you, Flint, but I think I’d just like to return to my room, if that’s okay with you.” She looks at me, and I see so much pain and humiliation, and yet strength, it nearly brings me to my knees.

“You can go.” My voice sounds hollow, distant. I feel like I’ve lost control of this night. Of everything.

“Good night, gentlemen,” she says to Blaise and Flint. She turns and heads out the door. I watch her, mesmerized by her as I’ve always been. She should look broken, yet somehow, Keira moves with a dignity that shames me.

The minute she’s out of sight, my brothers turn on me.

“What the fuck, Phoenix?” Flint’s eyes burn hot. “I didn’t fully believe Blaise when he said?—”

“What?” Blaise interrupts. “You thought I was lying?”

“I thought you were exaggerating. But holy fucking hell. Please tell me you haven’t forced yourself on her.”

I close my eyes, hating that they’d think I’d do such a thing. The fact that they do sends me into a rage. “It would be within my right?—”

They gape in shock. “Jesus, Phoenix.”

“But no. Despite what you think, I have a few scruples left.” I need a drink. I push past them and return to my guests. “I need a bourbon,” I say to a passing server.

“Yes sir.”

John Donnelly puts a hand on my shoulder. “That was quite a display, young man.” John is a large part of why I’m here and the Keans are in the basement. This party is to celebrate him and the others who supported me and my brothers’ return to reclaim what Hampton Kean stole.

“I have to say, I’m glad Hannah is married to Ash and not you. Not sure I’d have wanted to see my girl paraded around like that,” he finishes, referring to his daughter and my brother’s arranged marriage that has turned into a love match.

“I wouldn’t have paraded Hannah,” I say through gritted teeth. “Keira is a Kean.”

“Quite right. Good move to marry her. But you might consider not being so obvious in your disdain if your goal is to appease Hampton loyalists. They’ll see it as a reason to challenge you.”

I take the bourbon the server hands me and down it. “Let them come.”

John lets out a sigh. “Ah, the self-confidence of youth.” I’m not sure if he’s given up on me or decided he said what he needed to say, but either way, he moves on to another group.

“I see your fiancée hasn’t returned,” one of Riley’s men says to me with a gleam in his eye. “I guess you had to show her who’s boss.” He waggles his brows.

Fucking hell. They all believe I’d force myself on Keira. And this dickwad is all for it. Worse, I have to go along with it. I can’t let them think Keira got the best of me when she tossed her drink on me.

“She’s not the only one.” I set my sights on the fucker who dared touch Keira. I’m surprised he stuck around. I stride over to him. “You touch what’s mine again and you’ll pay with your life.”

The man flinches. “I meant no disrespect, sir… It’s just that… well, you…”

“I what?” But I know what. Keira was right. My actions weren’t that of a possessive fiancé looking out for his woman. I was showing her off to leering men like a spoil of war.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“Make sure that it doesn’t.”

I scan the room. A few have taken notice of my return and chastising of this man. Most are engaged in conversation and partaking of free booze. My brothers stand with their wives, disapproving expressions on all of them. It breaks me a little to think I’ve lost my brothers’ respect.

I do my best to salvage what’s left of the celebration. As the last guests leave, I think they feel adequately appreciated for their help in bringing the Keans down and are ready to support me in bringing more profits and power to all of us, just as my father had done.

Thinking of my father brings more shame. He’d have hauled me out of this room the minute Keira entered in that fuck-me dress and given me a scolding of a lifetime. My father believed women needed to be protected, respected, and worshiped. It’s how he treated my mother.

I argue with myself that had he been supportive of my love for Keira ten years ago, tonight wouldn’t have happened. I’d be the husband he’d want me to be. Hell, my parents might still be alive.

“Well, that was quite a night,” Lucy says. She’s never one to mince words. I keep expecting Flint to explain to her how things work in our world, but it turns out he likes her being unafraid to express her opinions.

“I hope Miss Keira is alright,” Jenna says softly.

“She’s fine. And she will be fine,” I say tightly.

They all look at me dubiously.

When they all leave, I head upstairs. I consider stopping by Keira’s room to check on her, but what’s the point?

Instead, I take a shower like that will wash away my anger and shame. I don’t bother putting on sleepwear as I slip into bed.

Sleep is elusive, though, as I replay the night in my head.

For a decade, I've pictured Keira laughing with her father over my family's deaths.

I've imagined her celebrating on the ashes of my childhood home, counting the money her betrayal earned them.

Every night in exile, I fell asleep to thoughts of revenge against the woman who used our love to destroy everything I held dear.

But tonight… something didn’t fit.

When she greeted Jenna, genuine concern flashed across her face. Not the performative sympathy of a socialite, but real warmth. The story she shared about Jenna’s mother expressed true admiration of the woman.

Then came her reaction to Hannah. The shock in her eyes when I mentioned Hampton shooting Ash's wife wasn't feigned. Her face went pale, horror etching across her features.

She didn't know. It happened just days ago and she didn’t know. It seems inconceivable unless my brothers were right. What if she really had been locked away? What if her parents kept her in the dark about everything including their plan to destroy my family?

I think back to the party. I’d kept her close not so much to dominate, but to let the men ogling her know who she belonged to. When she’d finally gone off on her own to get a drink, one of Donovan’s men sidled up next to me, his gaze fixed on Keira’s ass.

"Your bride is something else, Ifrinn. Wouldn't mind a taste of that myself."

My hand tightened around my champagne glass. I’m surprised it didn’t break. "Watch your fucking mouth."

"Hey, you're the one who dressed her like a five-star meal and served her up."

The truth was like a sucker punch, accentuated even more when I saw that other fucker squeeze her ass. I put her in that dress. I paraded her around like a trophy to be gawked at. And then I blamed her for everyone’s reaction.

But she deserved this. Her family destroyed mine. She betrayed me.

Didn't she?

I scrape my hand over my face feeling the weight of my ultimate douchiness. No wonder my brothers look at me like I’m a total stranger.

I close my eyes, thinking back to better times.

Keira at eighteen, the moonlight catching in her blonde waves as we lay hidden in my father's garden.

Her fingers tracing my jaw, her whisper against my lips.

"Promise we'll find a way to be together, no matter what.

" The desperate way she'd clung to me, as if she knew something was coming that would tear us apart.

But what if Blaise and Flint are right? What if she's just another victim of Hampton's ambition?

The hope that rises is dangerous, a weakness I can't afford. If I'm wrong about her, I've hurt someone who might have suffered as much as I did. Who could be an ally in my conquest of Hampton Kean. Who could love me as I’d loved her.

I fall asleep, but Keira seeps from my memory into my dreams. It’s not eighteen-year-old Keira, but Keira today. We’re in my office, just like we were earlier. I’m kissing her, but not to punish her. No. It’s soft and sweet. Her mouth opens under mine, her tongue meeting mine with equal fervor.

Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt like she's afraid I'll disappear. I back her against the door, pressing my body against hers, drinking in the taste I've dreamed about for a decade.

I break away just enough to look into her eyes. I need to see desire, not fear or resolve. She needs to want me too. I see the same hunger I feel. Like she's been starving for this as long as I have.

I deepen the kiss, all the anger, all the hatred transforms into something else entirely, raw, desperate need. My hand tangles in her hair, tilting her head back as I claim her mouth with mine.

"Phoenix," she breathes against my lips.

I lift her without thinking, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively. The red dress rides up her thighs as she locks her ankles behind me. Her arms circle my neck, pulling me closer as if she's afraid I'll vanish if she lets go.

The weight of her in my arms feels right, like reclaiming something that was always mine. I carry her across the room to my desk, never breaking our kiss. Papers scatter as I set her down, her body perched on the edge.

My hands slide up her thighs, beneath the hem of that fucking sexy dress I forced her to wear. Her skin burns beneath my touch, soft and familiar. I've dreamed of this, of her, for so long.

I tear my lips from hers, trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her tits above that damned red dress.

I drop to my knees before her, looking up to find her eyes wide with surprise.

My hands slide beneath her dress, pushing it up her thighs until she's exposed to me.

The sight of her like this, perched on my desk, breathing hard, her hair falling around her flushed face, makes my blood burn.

I press my mouth to her wet pussy. Her taste floods my senses, familiar yet new, and I groan against her flesh. Her fingers tangle in my hair, not pushing me away but pulling me closer. I devour her like a starving man, every gasp and whimper fueling my need to possess her completely.

"Oh, God," she moans, her hips lifting to meet my mouth.

I grip her thighs, holding her open for me as I work her with my tongue. The power I feel isn't the cold satisfaction of revenge, it's primal, possessive. Mine. She's always been mine.

Her body tenses, trembling beneath my hands as she approaches the edge. I look up, needing to watch her face as she comes apart for me. Her head is thrown back, lips parted, completely surrendered to the pleasure I'm giving her.

"Let go," I command, driving two fingers inside her pussy. "Come for me, Keira."

She shatters with a cry, her body arching as waves of pleasure wash through her. I don't stop finger fucking her, drawing out her climax.

When I rise to my feet, she reaches for me, pulling at my belt, my zipper. I free my dick, positioning it at her entrance. I thrust into her in one powerful stroke, burying myself to the hilt. The sensation is overwhelming, hot, tight, perfect. No protection. No barriers. Just us.

I’m driving into her, faster, harder, careening toward oblivion. I’m teetering on the edge. I need to feel her come around me. To take me over with her.

I look into her face, to her eyes, and my world stops.

Her eyes are flat and empty.

“Keira.” Panic fills me.

Her gaze locks onto me. “Take me if you want. I won’t fight it. But I won’t forget either. I’ll never forget what you did to me tonight.”

I bolt up in bed. My heart races, but not from sexual adrenaline. No, it’s from sheer terror that I’ve become what my brothers, what Keira, accused me of.

But even as self-loathing washes through me, it’s followed by anger. I’m not that man. Sure, I’m an asshole, but I’m not a monster.

You keep telling yourself that , Blaise’s voice echoes in my brain.

I flop back in bed wondering how this perfect plan has gone so far off the rails. I guess it started when Lana Kean offered Keira to me in exchange for their lives and I took it as an opportunity to make Keira pay for her deception. A deception I’m now not so sure of.

But just because I have doubts, doesn’t mean I believe her. Keira is hiding something. She’s brave and strong-willed, and yet willing to submit to anything I do to her. The only reason she’d do that is to protect someone. It could be that kid. Or it could be her lover. Maybe both.

The end result is that I can’t fully trust her.