Chapter 14

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

Killian

"I still think I should run," Noah said, climbing from the car outside his father's brownstone, blinking into Boston's pale blue sky.

Running was not an option. There was a better way to end this and begin something new, for both of us.

Noah joined me on the steps. He was still pale, especially under harsh sunlight. It had been a couple of days since he'd been near death. The fact he was standing next to me at all was some kind of miracle. Although, I didn't believe in God, or some divine being, shifting us around like chess pieces. But I had begun to believe in second chances in life, and love. I believed it because every time I laid eyes on Noah King, my heart tripped, my breath fluttered, and my thoughts got all tangled in the way the sun highlighted Noah's messy hair, how his smile forever played on his soft lips.

"You keep looking at me like that, Killer, and we'd better scratch this meeting and go back to your place."

I cleared my throat and pressed the bell. "We'll get to that."

"Yes, we will." Noah licked his lips and gave me a savage once-over, reigniting a fire inside only his touch could quench.

The housekeeper let us in and left us in the living room.

Sunlight streamed through large sash windows, illuminating the old wingback chair. The room, like the house, was a slice of old Boston. It had stood for over a hundred and fifty years, as old as the Back Bay families. But the old ways were dying. Business was changing. I was about to make sure of it.

"My… son?"

Noah's father stood in the doorway, wearing his suit, about to go about his day as the mob boss of one of the US's most notorious criminal organizations. What he hadn't expected to see was his son standing in his front room, back from the dead.

"Father."

Val's shock vanished too soon, and those shrewd eyes turned accusingly to me.

"Simon lied to you," I said. "He was selling our goods to the Southies, using the docks to do it. He needed you distracted and me elsewhere while he betrayed you. Everything he told you about Noah sleeping around was a story, fabricated to undermine your grip on the business."

The old man lifted his chin and straightened his cuffs. "I know."

He'd… known? Before or after he'd ordered me to kill his son?

"You overstep, Killian," Val said. "Noah's fate is not yours to decide."

I swallowed. "If you knew, then Noah didn't have to die."

Val's eyebrows lifted. "And you decided that?"

"I'm right here, you know, Father," Noah said. "Whatever that fucking word means."

"Silence!"

Noah didn't flinch, but he did press his lips together and narrow his eyes on his father. He knew—we all knew—Val didn't care how his son had almost died over a pathetic deal gone wrong. I wasn't sure I'd believed Val could be so heartless, wasn't sure if he'd understood how he'd been played and Noah had almost paid with his life. But he'd known, and he didn't give a shit.

There were bad men, stupid men, and then there were men like Val King. Vicious men.

"I'm disappointed in you," Val said to me.

I arched an eyebrow. "Because I didn't kill your son?"

"Because you went against my orders. Now, you may both leave. I have a busy day, and I cannot be distracted by whatever nonsense this is."

Noah dropped his chin at being dismissed as though he were nothing but a spec of dirt on his father's shoe, when instead he was the brightest, most valuable fucking thing in this room, in my life, and in his father's life too.

Noah was almost at the door when I said, "No."

They both turned toward me. Father and son. So different, but two sides of the same coin. Strong. Capable. In their own ways. But Noah had heart, he had soul. Val was as cold as corpse.

"Here's how it's going to be." I moved to the table beside the window, picked up one of Val's crystal whiskey glasses, and poured myself a drink from the decanter. When I raised the drink to my lips, Val's fury was so potent, I felt its burn the same as the heat of his whiskey as it went down.

I dangled the glass in my fingers and then gently set it aside. "Noah is protected. Nobody touches him, nobody threatens him, nobody so much as looks at him sideways, or they will have me to answer to. That includes you, Mister King. Am I making myself clear?"

Noah's eyes widened, while Val's narrowed. "Get out," Val snarled.

I would when I was done here. "I know where the corpses are buried, I know what secrets keep you awake at night, and I know few, if any, of your men are capable of stopping me before I bring this entire operation down."

Val's nostrils flared. "I made you. You were nothing. Who do you think you are?! "

I sighed and headed for Noah by the door. "I'm the man who controls the Back Bay Mafia, but we'll keep it between us. For the sake of your reputation. You should think about retiring soon. I hear the Hamptons are nice." I smiled at his fuming face, then strode with Noah out of the door.

Noah glanced over as we climbed into the car and pulled away from the house, heading into downtown Boston.

"Well…" I sighed. The sun shone, the company beside me was perfect, and I'd not been this happy in over five years. "That was fucking freeing."

"What did you just do?" Noah asked, a touch of awe in his voice.

"Showed my hand." And it felt good. Five years I'd been collecting his father's secrets, five years being the yes man, five years on the end of his leash. I'd finally shown Valentine King who I was, and now I'd get revenge for the love I'd lost, and the love I'd gained.

The Back Bay Mafia was mine.

" Fuck ." Noah laughed. "He'll come for you, he'll find a way. He thinks you want the throne."

I tossed Noah a sly grin, downshifted the car, and raced through the shadows of Boston's high-rises. "I do."

And if we played the game right, Noah King would be on the throne beside mine, ready to burn his father's kingdom down or reign over it. Whatever Noah wanted.

We'd be the fucking kings.