Page 43 of Stolen Temptation (Irish Kings #3)

Kiara

Terror cracks through me, hot and deadly as lightning.

Rory steps in front of me, shielding me from Leo’s triumphant gaze.

“I wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you.” The slimy, acidic words drip from Leo’s mouth.

Rory doesn’t listen. He shoves me farther behind him and reaches for his gun. “You’re going to fucking die?—”

A single gunshot echoes through the shop.

The awful squelch of metal ripping through flesh nearly keeps me from feeling the bullet as it whizzes past my ear and thunks into the bookshelf behind me.

Blood spatters onto the carpet and stains my shirt. Someone starts screaming when Rory stumbles and drops to one knee, groaning in pain.

It takes several seconds before I realize I’m the screamer.

My throat aches from the force as Rory crumples, a dark spot rapidly growing on the carpet beneath him.

“No, no, no,” I plead as I throw myself down beside him, cupping his cheeks in my hands.

My life—not the one I’ve led but another—flashes before my eyes.

A future life with Rory.

Visions of us together. Walking hand in hand in the streets of Paris, backpacking in Nepal, patronizing one of those cheesy tourist traps in Italy, cramming into a rickshaw in India…

His blood seeps into the carpet and beyond, nipping the whites of my sneakers.

Nausea strangles me as I cover the wound with my hands to try to stanch the bleeding.

I see him dying, but I feel like it’s me on the floor. Everything I ever wanted in life is fading right before my eyes.

Rough fingers cuff around my upper arm.

Leo yanks me to my feet. I scream and fight, clawing at any skin I can find. Punching and kicking until, with a curse, Leo backhands me across the face.

“Keep it up, and I’ll shoot him one more time for good measure.”

I immediately stop fighting and let him drag me toward the front door, my eyes never leaving Rory’s still face. An ashen cast strips the healthy color from his skin as blood drains from his wound.

“ Move it ,” Leo growls, pulling me over the threshold and into the street.

The door to Midnight Books closes, obscuring Rory’s motionless body from view.

I can’t even breathe. There’s no room for air when my body is this full of despair. I don’t think my heart’s beating.

Leo shoves me into the plush backseat of a waiting SUV. I hit the leather hard, nearly bashing my head against the window.

None of my reflexes are working.

I don’t even have enough willpower to catch myself when I’m falling.

Leo climbs in behind me and slams the door. We’re already moving.

“You must be the dumbest bitch in New York City.” Leo’s cruel laughter echoes in the background of my mind. He sounds so far away.

Probably because I left my heart and soul in that bookshop behind us.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” He pulls a cigar from his lapel pocket, the same acrid brand Enzo used to smoke. “The Kings may think they have this city under lock and key, but I know far more than they ever could.”

He lights up without rolling down a window, adding smog to the backseat with his every exhale. “Power means nothing if someone holds your vulnerability in the palm of their hand.”

Still reeling, Leo’s words bounce right off me.

Not a single one sinks in.

Can someone even survive a gunshot to the chest?

Is Rory already dead? Who could survive losing that much blood?

If he dies…it’ll be my fault.

The guilt crashes over me, dragging me under.

“I have to admit, I’m impressed you actually escaped your cage.” He chuckles darkly. “I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw the security footage.”

My gaze, bleary with an unending flow of tears, falls to my empty hands.

A second later, Leo’s rough paw knots in my hair. He pulls until a small cry of pain spurts between my lips.

He shoves my head until I slide off the seat onto the floor.

“You owe me an apology, bug .” He thrusts my head away, and my back hits the row of seats in front of us.

“Do you know how many people I had to execute after you fled?” He holds up his empty hand and wiggles his fingers.

“Lost five men because of your little rebellion. And tracking your pissant self was a bitch and a half.”

He leans forward, sneering down at me. “I knew you’d go to that stupid bookstore. Your old bodyguard told me you used to stop there during every visit to the city.”

He spits, his saliva landing on my jean-clad thigh.

I don’t even have it in me to feel disgusted.

My entire spirit is crushed.

I sit there, silent, head whirling through space and time with no direction and no end in sight. I’m an empty shell.

Still, the weight of Leo’s gaze drills into my face.

I know I should be afraid for my own safety, but what’s the point of fear?

Pain and suffering are an inevitability, now that I’m back in Leo’s clutches.

I’m frozen, my entire soul a block of ice.

My head spins faster and faster as I just stare at the spit on my jeans.

“Enzo always said that if you hadn’t been good with a paintbrush, then you would have been dead a long time ago.” Leo laughs, taking another puff from his cigar. “He promised me I could do the honors if you ever stopped earning your keep.”

My gaze slowly drifts up to Leo’s smug, ugly face.

He looks so proud of himself.

“As much as I’d enjoy killing you, the money I’ll make when I hand you over to the Petrovs will be sweeter.

About a thousand times sweeter.” A sick smile spreads across his face, like he’s enjoying a private joke.

“They’re one of the most powerful families in the city, and they bought you in the auction, Kiara. You should be honored.”

The numbness creeping through me like a toxic fog dulls the horror of that announcement.

We fly through the short tunnel entrance that leads back to the De Luca estate.

How did we get back here so fast?

How did every moment of my life lead me back here?

The SUV skids to a stop around the center fountain in the courtyard.

“Take her and get her cleaned up,” Leo orders someone outside the SUV. “Then bring her downstairs. She’s made them wait long enough.”

Them?

I turn toward my brother’s horrible voice.

Is he saying the people he sold me to are here at the house? Waiting for me?

Sweat breaks out on the back of my neck as a short blond woman I’ve never seen before gently grasps my arm.

Once I’ve climbed out of the car and gotten a better look at the woman, it’s clear to me that she’s something like a maid here. My stomach clenches. This woman must be the new Mae .

Mae! Did she get away the night Rory found me? Did she manage to get back to France? Fresh tears wet my eyes.

I hope she arrived in her homeland safely.

Especially since safety isn’t in the cards for me.

From what I can gather, the woman, Theresa, is from northern Italy. She doesn’t speak much English, though she understands it well.

She ushers me upstairs.

Seeing my old refuge should be a comfort, but instead, I burn all over with a terrible fire.

Theresa helps me bathe, brushes my hair, then dries and styles it in pretty ringlets. An expensive dress that I’m sure Leo chose waits for me.

Stiff as a tree, I climb into the thing. It’s a silken ivory number that doesn’t cover enough of my body for my taste. I look like icing on a cake when I really feel like death in a bottle.

After Theresa applies my makeup and fusses over how beautiful I look in Italian despite my dark, depressed expression, she leads me out of my room and down to the grand De Luca dining room.

My nerves shoot up the minute the giant double doors come into view.

My mother and I were never allowed to step foot in the dining room.

We took all of our meals separate, away from the rest of the family.

Enzo wanted it that way. After what happened between Matteo and my mother, he didn’t want the reminders.

He never wanted to see us in the same place as his older brother again. And that was the end of it.

The dining room was off-limits, a place I’d only seen lit up from the outside on the rare night my mother wanted to paint in the moonlight and there just so happened to be a gathering going on inside.

It’s a place I’ve avoided, even after Matteo’s and Enzo’s deaths.

Foreboding slams into me as Theresa pushes the doors open.

They creak back, and I see the place up close and personal for the very first time.

A massive chandelier hangs over a dining table that could probably seat twenty people. Even though there are only six people in attendance, a spread of gourmet food covers the length of it. All the guests look up when I step one shaking foot inside.

Leo’s already huge smile widens when he sees me. Beside him, a massive Russian with hair like an oil slick pings my memory.

When recognition clicks, a chill sweeps over me.

He’s the creepy man from the auction. The one who leered at my cleavage and licked my hand when he kissed it.

Stifling a full-body shudder, I jerk my attention to the other men. One of them works for Leo. I’ve seen him around the estate several times doing Leo’s dirty work. Another is short and mousey, with a face that resembles the giant’s. His brother, maybe.

The third has a dark buzz-cut, and I shiver when I notice his cruel scowl.

To my surprise, there’s a woman here, too, maybe in her fifties or sixties. The haughty posture she carries herself with, standing next to the pair of Russian brothers, gives me the impression she’s their mother.

Why she might be here is beyond my power to imagine.

They all stare at me.

I gulp.

This is the family I’m going to be working for from now on?

Stuck in the dungeon of some Russian bratva, I’ll be painting for them for the rest of my life. Or until they decide to sell me to someone else. Or kill me.

Leo puffs up his chest, gesturing to me with pride as he turns to the big Russian. “Maksim Petrov, what you paid for has arrived.” Leo’s sinister side-eye warns me to brace myself. “ Your bride .”

My entire world shatters.