Page 32 of King of Desire (Kings of Las Vegas #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Triston

When we get back to the house, I do something I haven’t done in actual years. I take the rest of the day off.

I send out a blanket email that I’m not available. Then, after we eat a big lunch—even Darius has found his appetite—we head out to the pool.

I leave my phone in the house. I don’t want to hear from my brothers or the office, or anyone else for that matter.

I just want a quiet moment with Darius and Honeyeh. We stacked a lot of good into this day and I’m going to relax and enjoy it for once in my life.

Honeyeh explains the surgery and recovery for Darius if he does have a donor. It means a lot of work in our near future, which makes me even more determined to enjoy this day.

We relax. Eat. Swim. I can’t remember the last time I experienced this kind of simple joy. My insides are uncoiling, relaxing for the first time in years, I feel at peace.

As the sun sets, we go inside, have dinner and then we all start upstairs. I pick my phone up from the counter, noting that I have seventeen missed calls and a dozen voicemails.

Tomorrow is soon enough. I pocket the phone and follow Honeyeh and Darius up the stairs.

I’m a half flight behind them when Darius turns back to Honeyeh. “Want to see the game I’m learning, Need for Speed ?”

“What’s that about?”

“It’s a racecar simulator. I’m learning to drive.”

Honeyeh snorts. “You can’t learn to drive with a video game.”

I laugh. “Did you know that a man became a racecar driver after mastering driving with a video game?”

“Do not encourage him,” Honeyeh fires back.

“Fine,” Darius scoffs. “But when I’m better, can I learn to drive for real?”

Honeyeh looks back at me, her eyes wide. My brows go up. “Honeyeh, do you drive?”

She shakes her head. “We’ve never had a car…”

“I guess I’ll be teaching you both.”

Darius gives a whoop, but Honeyeh’s back down the stairs, her arms threading around my neck, her mouth pressing to mine.

I already know she’s going to worry that it’s another thing I’m giving her, but I don’t see it like that. It’s my job to provide. It’s a role I’ve embraced my whole life. Only this time what I get in return is comfort, warmth, love, and Honeyeh in my bed.

She’s still in a bikini, a little pair of shorts hanging onto her hips and I run my hands over her back even as Darius snorts and then disappears into his room.

I chuckle against Honeyeh’s lips even as I hook her leg around my waist. She’s on the step above me which gives me even better access, my cock pressing to the softness between her legs.

“Shower or fuck first?” I rumble. “Or both at the same time.”

“How about a little business before that,” a voice says from the bottom of the stairs. I freeze, my hands going rigid on Honeyeh’s body, because I recognize that deep Russian voice anywhere. Dimitri Ivanov.

Slowly, I let Honeyeh go, turning on the step to find Dimitri at the bottom of the stairs, pistol pointed at my chest.

Inside the pocket of my shorts, my phone buzzes.

Fuck. “Business? Now?” I take a step toward him, down one step and he cocks back the hammer of his gun so that I freeze again. “Sure. In my office?”

But his eyes are sliding back over my shoulder. “Printsessa, you’re even more beautiful than I remember from our first meeting.”

My lip curls. “Honeyeh is not part of this conversation.”

“Wrong,” he snarls back. “Consider this my thank you for sending your brother to threaten my family.”

“No one held a gun on your family. They didn’t even know Killian was there.”

“I knew.”

I hear Honeyeh gasp behind me, and I realize my mistake. She has no idea what kind of men we are or the lengths I’d go, have gone, to keep her safe.

I reach back for her, but she doesn’t take my hand. If I live through this, what will be waiting for me? Will Honeyeh still want me?

I’ll worry about that after. Right now, I need to get Honeyeh to safety and then kill this fucking prick who’s been a thorn in my side for too long.

“You went after my girl first.”

“Wrong. I’d have to know she was your girl in order for that to be true.”

“Please,” Honeyeh cries from behind me. “I’m so sorry that I started all of this. I had no idea that?—”

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You didn’t know.” I reach back for her again but that’s when she steps next to me, trying to slide in front of me.

My hand shoots out to stop her, holding her back as I try to push her behind me again.

The stairs make it almost impossible. I’d have to pick her up, which would mean turning my back on Dimitri. And Honeyeh resists my push. She’s trying to push to the front, to cover my body with hers.

Which is completely ridiculous. “Triston,” she whispers. “Promise me you’ll take care of Darius.”

I let out a rumble. “You will take care of Darius. Dimitri and I are going to work this out like men, away from women and children.”

But Dimitri steps closer. “Not this time. If you want my businesses, wish to threaten my family, we’re including yours. Call your brother, Honeyeh. Let’s bring him down here too.”

Honeyeh pulls her shoulders straighter, her fingers lacing through mine. And then she steps around my hand, moving down to the next step and placing herself between me and Dimitri. “I never thanked you, Mr. Ivanov,” she whispers.

“Thanked me?”

“Leaving with Triston the other night has saved both my and my brother’s lives.”

“You’re welcome. But understand, that the time for grace is over.”

“Please,” she starts, holding up her hands. “I’m sure?—"

I’ve had enough of this. I reach down and pluck her in my arms. Honeyeh will not be my human shield. It’s not that I didn’t know she would do it, it’s one of the many things I love about her, the way she gives herself. But this isn’t happening.

“Stop,” Dimitri snarls and then raises the pistol, shooting up, the bullet hitting the ceiling above.

Honeyeh screams, but I toss her to the side, vaulting down the stairs in a single leap, and tossing myself at Dimitri, my body slamming into his, a fraction of a second before he can aim his pistol again.

We both go careening toward the floor, my body landing hard on top of his. I hear the air rush from his lungs, the gun knocking from his hand and sliding across the floor.

But I don’t have time to get it as Dimitri recovers, landing his fist with punishing force into my side.

Fucking Russians. Scrappy as hell.

But even as I fold from the blow, I manage to jam my fingers into his throat. He starts gagging as I land another blow in his stomach. “I know you’re lying. Brittany was a fucking plant, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you had her bring Honeyeh to you.”

His eyes widen and I know I’ve landed on the truth. I get my knee into his stomach even as I hear the gun cock again.

Both Dimitri and I turn to see Honeyeh holding his pistol. “Brittany was a plant? What does that mean?”

I’m up and backing away from Dimitri, keeping him in my sights as I move toward Honeyeh.

When I reach her, I gently take the gun from her hand.

“Dimitri paid her to spy. At first the wedding and then the benefit. He knew exactly who you were when Brittany convinced you to come sell yourself at his brothel. And he was figuring out how to use you to get to me.”

He slowly pushes off the floor. “Triston.”

“So we’re going to discuss the sale again, and we’re going to dispense the bullshit of how I brought his family into this first. Or how giving you to me the other night was an act of grace. It was a tactic, nothing more.”

“Killian stalked my fucking family.”

The nanny is his family? Noted. “You shot up his place with his fiancée in the bathroom. You don’t make a move like that and not expect it to come back at you.”

“Triston?” Honeyeh says behind me, her voice shaking.

“Go upstairs, sweetheart. I’ll be up soon.”

Dimitri holds up both his hands. “We’ve lost a certain measure of trust. I understand that.”

“I’m glad you understand.” Honeyeh is frozen behind me. “Go Honeyeh. Now.”

“Not yet,” another man says behind me. What the fuck is he doing here?