5. Victoria

Growing moreirritated by the second, I pace my living room, waiting for Dad to finish his call. The tension in the air is thick enough to slice through. I know that Luke’s been here, setting up whatever high-tech shit Cian thinks I need to keep me safe. The idea pisses me off, but the thought of Luke being so close, working silently around my home, sends an unexpected thrill down my spine.

He’s fucking hot, with his brown hair and green eyes that have seen too much already. Not to mention he’s a fucking Earl with enough land in Scotland to get lost on. Not that the material shit is a main attraction for me. I grew up in a ten-bedroom mansion as the only child of one of the UK’s most powerful mafia bosses. Luxury is something I’m familiar with. But I guess the idea of not being surrounded by it, by being able to roam free with nothing and nobody for miles around, is appealing to me on a level that taunts me.

The front door clicks open, and Dad walks in, bringing with him a chill that has nothing to do with the weather outside.

“Finished, finally?” I spit out, unusually annoyed. It’s too fucking early and Cian using me before has left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. I want to go and use him back, ride his cock until I come all over him and then walk away, leaving him with a cum-covered cock and no pussy to stick it in to finish him off. I want to watch him be forced to finish himself off.

Dad just nods and sits down, steepling his fingers.

“So, what is this talk about that is so important?” Whatever it is, it’s big, family-related, and has nothing to do with the creepy box outside.

“Victoria,” Dad starts, his voice steady, but I can detect the undercurrent of stress. “There’s a new player trying to encroach on BlackBriar. You may have heard of them. They’re new to the university, but they’re making moves fast, and not the kind we can ignore. Their leader, Jacob Kellerman, is ambitious—too ambitious. He has his eyes set on taking over the campus drug trade, and that includes our territories.”

“Kellerman. Yeah, I’ve heard the name. He tried to infiltrate the Union. So, what? Are we going to war?”

Dad raises an eyebrow at my savagery. “Not if I can help it. We’re going to try to handle this diplomatically first. But I need you to be careful. They don’t play by the rules.”

I scoff, the idea of diplomacy with these kinds of people is almost laughable. “Since when do any of us play by the rules?” My hand absentmindedly drifts to my back, where the stiletto blade rests against my skin, hidden but easily accessible. I’d prefer Bonnie, my nail-studded cricket bat in my hand, but that thing is unwieldy and not something I can carry around constantly.

Dad’s stare hardens. “This isn’t a game, Victoria. Kellerman is dangerous, and he’s got a vendetta against the Gannons.”

“The Gannons…” I let that thought linger for a second, but Dad doesn’t bite, forcing me to ask. “What’s the beef?”

“Not for me to say. Oisin is holding a summit with Cian later today. That’s all I can tell you.”

Cian’s dad, Oisin Gannon, is a legend. Seriously fucked up, and while my dad will shoot you in the face with a smile, Oisin, apparently, will slice you into little pieces himself while he does an Irish jig on your dismembered parts. A man after my own heart, really. Cian is more like him, than he cares to admit. He is the black sheep, my dark prince, but fuck if he’s not just like his dad in every other way.

I sit, my back straight as the tip of the stiletto digs into my skin and let out a slow breath. The name Kellerman pulses in my mind like a sore tooth. I’ve always been one to enjoy a bit of chaos, but this feels different. Dangerous. And I fucking love it. A surge of adrenaline rushes through me at the thought of the upcoming storm.

But my mind can’t stay on Kellerman for long as it drifts back to Luke. That son of a bitch has been under my skin since the day I met him, standing all stoic and impenetrable next to Cian, his eyes giving nothing away. It’s infuriating. The way he looks at me sometimes is like he sees right through me—like he knows just how much I want to push him against the wall and feel those capable hands on me.

But I can’t, can I? That’s the sick joke of it all. He’s Cian’s right-hand man, through and through, and I’m not about to go planting seeds of betrayal in the already fucked up garden we’re all playing in. Instead, I push the thought of Luke out of my head. It’s easier focusing on Kellerman and the shitstorm he’s planning to bring down on us.

I stand abruptly and cross over to the window. “Fine, I’ll be careful. I’ll play nice and keep my toys tucked away.” My voice is laced with sarcasm as I plaster a mockingly sweet smile on my face when I turn back to face him.

Dad nods, understanding the implied promise behind my words - to reign in my impulses. For now. “Good,” he says as he stands. “Keep your eyes open, Victoria. And if you need anything—anything at all—let me know.”

As Dad leaves, closing the door with a final click that sounds like the chambering of a round, I’m left alone with the silence and the building anticipation for what’s coming next.

Moments later, Cian enters the living room and crosses his arms as he stares at me. “Well?”

“Have you spoken to your dad lately?”

He squints at me. “Why? What’s he got to do with anything?”

I shrug, but he can see straight through me.

“What do you know?” he asks, coming closer, danger sweeping off him in waves.

Normally, I’m not one to stick my nose in, but this is going to affect us all. “Jacob Kellerman has a fucking vendetta against your family, and that means shit is about to get real dark, real fast around here.” I keep my tone level, but there’s a hardness in my words that matches the threat simmering on the horizon.

Cian’s jaw tightens, a subtle tell that I’ve hit a nerve. “Jacob Kellerman? The first-year fucker who tried to get into the Union the other night with his crew?”

“The one and only.”

“He’s just another cockroach, thinking he can scuttle into our territory. He’ll learn his place.”

“Maybe, or he’ll burn it all to the goddamn ground trying. Either way, it sounds like you and your dad will have some family bonding over how to deal with him.”

A muscle twitches along Cian’s cheek, betraying his calm exterior. “Don’t worry about Kellerman,” he says with an edge of finality, but he has completely avoided the bigger issue here.

However, I’m not one to leave things unsaid. “I don’t worry about scum like Kellerman. I worry about what happens to us when we’re too busy watching our backs from threats outside and not looking at the ones brewing inside.”

“You mean Oisin?” he scoffs.

“You and your dad have fucking issues. I get it. Robert is the golden child, younger and better, whatever. But you, my dark prince, are the heir to that fucking throne and you need to start acting like it. Suck it up and deal with your dad the way any of us do. Smile, play nice, agree and then do what comes naturally. They didn’t raise us to be pussies?—”

He growls, and I know I’m stepping so far over the line, I can’t even see it, but this is now my life on the line as well.

Before I even know he’s moved, Cian’s hands slam on the window, either side of me, caging me in. His eyes are wild, a storm of anger, resentment, and something I can’t quite place. “You think you know how to handle Oisin Gannon?” he spits the words out like venom. “You don’t have a fucking clue, Victoria.”

I stand my ground, refusing to shrink back. This man doesn’t scare me. “Tell me then,” I challenge him. “Enlighten me.”

Our faces are inches apart, his breath hot on my skin. I can feel every contour of his body against mine, and fuck if it doesn’t make me want to forget this whole damn conversation and rip his clothes off.

But there’s no time for that now. Not with the war that’s breathing down our necks.

“You want to know?” He grimaces as if telling me is physically painful. “Oisin isn’t like your dad, Victoria. You wouldn’t understand, so what’s the fucking point?”

A flicker of something passes over his face, the vulnerability he never shows anyone. His eyes are wild, roiling with pain only he knows about. “Oisin is a fucking monster. Think your dad is dark? Oisin’s the kind of darkness that swallows whole families and shits them out without a second thought.”

I hold his gaze. “I’m aware.” I push against his chest, needing space to breathe, to think, but he is immovable.

“You don’t know the fucking half of it.” He pushes off from the window and steps back, giving me space.

A deafening silence descends, and I’ve lost him. He won’t talk about shit now and it will rot and destroy him. I knew about Cian’s father, the ruthless head of the Gannon legacy, but his fear, this deep-rooted hatred Cian has for him, adds a new layer to the darkness that already consumes him.

I watch as he retreats into himself, his body language closing off as if preparing for a battle only he can see. “We’ve all got our demons to face,” I say, my voice steady despite the unease settling in my gut. But it’s like talking to a brick wall.

He just stares at me with those calculating eyes, always one step ahead in this twisted game we’re playing.

“I’ll let you know what he says.”

Cian turns on his heel and heads out, punching the wall next to the door before he leaves. I get his frustration, but he needs to get over it. I can’t imagine for one second Oisin is calling a Gannon family summit over some punk who just needs his ass kicking. This is bigger than that. I just hope that Cian can see past the hatred for his dad to see the bigger picture, or we are all doomed.