Flint's expression darkens. "I’ll call him now.”
"Good. Keep me updated." I turn to Blaise. "I need you to sweep the house. Make sure we've secured every entrance and exit. Post guards at strategic points. The Keans have more allies than cockroaches. I don't want any surprises tonight."
"Already on it." Blaise pulls out his phone. "O'Donnell's men are setting up a perimeter."
"Check the secret passages.”
"Speaking of secrets…" Blaise's eyes narrow. "What are we doing about the girl?"
It takes me a minute to figure out what he’s talking about. Then I remember the child. The child that had Keira’s eyes change from defiance to panic. The child that made her decide to marry me.
“She stays where she is for now. As long as Keira cooperates, no harm comes to her or the nanny."
"And if she doesn't cooperate?” Blaise asks.
I meet his gaze. "Then she learns exactly how far I'll go to destroy her family."
Flint and Blaise exchange looks. "A kid, Phoenix? Really?"
"I didn't say I'd kill her. Who is the kid, anyway? For all we know, the Keans stole her and there's a mother out there looking for her child."
Flint checks his watch. "I’m going up to call Ash. Should I let him know about your upcoming nuptials?"
"Get out before I shoot you."
My brothers leave, their footsteps fading down the hall. I rub my temples, feeling oddly tired when I should be euphoric. I’ve done it. I’ve overcome my enemy and stand on the verge oftaking back everything that Hampton stole from us. But all I can think about is Keira upstairs, probably plotting ways to escape.
Let her try. She's about to learn that the boy she knew died in that fire ten years ago. All that's left are ice and vengeance. And her kiss won't change that.
I head upstairs, striding through the Kean mansion's grand foyer, now my grand foyer. O'Donnell and Riley’s men snap to attention as I pass, their eyes filled with respect. The Ifrinn name still carries weight, even after a decade of exile.
"Sir, the west wing is secured." A soldier approaches, back straight as steel. "Found a couple of Kean's men trying to access the computer systems. They're detained."
"Good. Lock down all communications. I want every scrap of data from their servers."
The mansion buzzes with activity. My men sweep room by room, securing decades of Kean secrets. The same halls where Hampton ruled his stolen empire now fill with soldiers loyal to the Ifrinn name. Loyalty bought with blood and vengeance, but loyalty, nonetheless.
I pause at the base of the sweeping staircase, taking in the house built upon the ashes of my parents’ home. The footprint appears similar, yet it’s not the same. No, this place was built on betrayal and murder. A part of me wants to torch it just like Hampton and Ronan burned my parents’ home down, but I’m a practical man. Taking over this house will be a symbol of what I’ve achieved, of who is boss now. Maybe the house isn’t the same, but the land is Ifrinn land.
I take the stairs up to the second floor and down to the room I’m told Keira is being held in. I push open the door to find Keira perched on the window seat, moonlight casting silver threads through her platinum hair. She doesn't turn at my entrance, but the rigid set of her shoulders tells me she's aware of my presence.
"Can't sleep?" I prowl closer, drawn to her like a fucking moth to flame. "Or plotting your escape?"
"Would it matter? You've made it clear I'm your prisoner."
"My future wife. There's a difference."
She spins to face me, gray eyes blazing. "Is there? Your guards suggest something different.”
"Your family deserves everything coming to them." Ice coats my words as I close the distance between us. "And you'll do exactly as I say if you want them to survive."
"Or what?" She tilts her chin up, defiant as ever. "You'll kill me too?"
The space between us crackles with electricity. Her exotic perfume fills my lungs, making my head spin. I plant my hands on either side of her, caging her against the window.
“What are you going to do with me?” She’s showing bravado, but I see fear in her eyes. What’s odd is that I’m not so sure whether it’s fear for her life or her family’s. Or the girl’s.
“Whatever I want.” I trace a finger down her throat, feeling her pulse jump beneath my touch.
