Page 147 of Wicked Empire (Knight's Ridge Empire 3)

“It’s a Cirillo building. These apartments have had our names on them for ages. Daemon actually already lives down the hall. The rest of us just didn’t feel the same need to rush. Well, until—”

“That asshole blew up our home.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Theo and Nico have the penthouses above us. Alex, Toby and Daemon are on this floor too. Or they will be when their flats are done.”

“This is ours. Just… ours?” I ask, just to confirm.

“Yep.”

“Does my dad know?”

A smile pulls at Seb’s lips, excitement and anticipation twinkling in his eyes.

“Who do you think helped me furnish it?”

“It… it’s perfect.”

“No. That’s you, baby. You’re perfect. Watching you tonight. Hellion… do you realize just how fierce you were?”

I shrug like it was nothing, when in reality, images of me shooting that fuck in the head are right on the edge of my conscience, desperately trying to be at the forefront. Something I suspect Seb knows.

“Just protecting my family. I’m fed up with watching my back. Of worrying about you, about them.” My eyes shoot up to the ceiling to indicate the guys. “It shouldn’t be like this.”

“We’re dangerous people, Hellion. There’s always an element of looking over our shoulders, but it shouldn’t be this bad.”

His hands slip down my body until he finds the clasp of my shoulder holster, and in seconds he has it and my gun on the counter beside us. “You earned this tonight, huh?” he says, eyeing my Cirillo family Glock.

A smile twitches at my lips. I probably shouldn’t be proud of that fact, but fuck it, I am.

“Time to celebrate?” I ask, noticing the bottle of champagne sitting in an ice bucket on the counter with two flutes beside it.

“That was the idea.” He reaches for the bottle and pops the top, immediately lifting it to his mouth for a sip.

He swallows, licking his tongue across his lip, collecting up the drops. My mouth waters for a taste as I watch him do it again, the muscles in his neck rippling and his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Seb,” I groan.

His hooded eyes find mine and he tips the bottle in my direction, asking if it’s what I want.

Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around his, bringing it closer to my lips.

“Desperate, baby?” His voice is so low, so rough that it sends a shiver of desire racing down my spine that ends at my clit.

“You have no idea.”

Humoring me, he moves the bottle to my lips, tipping it enough that a small trickle fills my mouth, the bubbles exploding on my tongue.

I swallow, expecting him to stop, but he doesn’t, and the champagne runs from my mouth and down my chin, the ice-cold liquid hitting my chest.

“Sebastian,” I moan when he dips his head and licks up my flushed skin.

“You taste like sin and death, Hellion.”

“Exactly as you like it.”

Abandoning the bottle on the side, he pushes my jacket from my shoulders, allowing it to fall on the counter.

Dragging my feet up the back of his legs, I pin his waist against me, moaning when his hard length presses against my core.