Page 48 of Empress of Ruin
No matter what PR Killian did to try to cover for me, the fact is that somewhere in the ether of the internet, there is still a tape of me, ass red, completely bound, begging to come. A video taken during a night I thought I’d genuinely die.
A video taken because Silas had demanded Killian kill me.
That doesn’t absolve Killian of his crimes, but it does add enough context for me to want to hurt Silas much more than I want to hurt Killian.
What I truly hate is that I’ve turned into the sort of person who wants to hurtanyone.
“I guess people evolve.” No matter how much I hate it, I no longer have any choicebutto present a united front with Killian. That is, if I want to survive—which I intend to.
“Do they?” Silas helps himself to a seat at the table. I pray to God that Killian’s men choose to disobey my orders and come check on me right about now.
“Perhaps.” I shut my laptop. “Any particular reason why you’re here, Silas?”
“Oh, I was just terribly curious to meet you. Killian’s done an excellent job of hiding you away, except for the carefully curated moments he shows you off.” He snaps his fingers. “That engagement, for example. Do you know that he told me you were his fiancée some months ago? Right before he ordered me to cut a pound of flesh from my body in restitution.” Silas’s expression turns flat, and the air chills by several degrees.
Wait…what? Killian… Killian told Silas to—
“Ah, you didn’t know.” Silas releases a mirthless chuckle. “Yes. Just before you published that expose of him and ran away like the little rat you are, he trapped me, beat me half to death, and informed me that if I didn’t cut a pound of flesh from myself, I’d be killed. Of course, I knewlogicallythat he wouldn’t kill me—there would be repercussions that your tiny, middle-class brain couldn’t comprehend. But logic wasn’t part of the equation just then.” He leans forward, and it takes more effort than I’d care to admit to not shrink back beneath his scrutiny.
The shock of hearing what Killian made him do helps keep me in place. Silas published the tape—Killian confirmed it, and the man himself doesn’t even seem to be trying to hide it. And in return, it sounds like Killian took some seriously fucked up revenge. What’s more fucked up is how satisfying I find the thought of Silas mutilating himself.
“Would you like to know where I carved it from?” Silas hisses.
Not particularly, no. But Silas seems to want to get this off his chest, because the piece of shit keeps talking. I’m only half-listening, my mind still reeling.
Killian defended me in his own sick, twisted way. He demanded restitution for Silas’s crime. The restitution was appropriately bloody and gory, but he… defended me.
“It was from a few places, actually,” Silas says. “My stomach, mainly. A little bit from my thighs, and then another little bit from my calves. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t quite enough. You see, everything I carved from myself like a fuckingbutcherwas weighed by one of your man’s cronies. I came up a few ounces short. So, I was given options; either get a bullet to my head or let them finish the job.” His jaw clenches. “I let them finish it, of course. Passed out. Woke up in the hospital two days later. Andyou, you little fuckingrat, were in the wind. I couldn’t take action against Killian, and I couldn’t findyouto punish him.”
A loaded silence lingers in the wake of his rant. I keep my expression carefully neutral, even while I can’t stop thinking. The scene Silas is painting is deeply frightening, yes, but it’s also almost… flattering. It’s certainly satisfying. I don’t know what to make of Killian going out of his way to harm Silas in a twistedversion of defending my honor, especially given that he probably would’ve risked some sort of backlash from The Eyes.
“Not to worry,” Silas says. “He wants me dead, but that won’t happen. I’ll destroy you first, and in destroying you, I’ll destroyhim.”
“Oh? How do you propose to do that?”
“Soglad you asked.” Silas leans forward. “You published an expose on him—”
“Have any proof of that?” I yawn.
His jaw ticks. “Not yet, but it’s fucking obvious. Next, while he was pretending that you were engaged—set to be engaged—whatever version of the lie he’s pushing, you were on the run from him.”
I examine my nails, exuding boredom. “That’s a really interesting version of events, Silas. Again, where’s the proof? All I’m hearing is an embellished lie from a bitter, ugly man.” I rake a critical gaze over him. “Maybe it’s for the best that Killian had you mutilate yourself. You could certainly afford to lose the weight.”
Silas stands from his seat, face red with rage. “You little fucking—”
“Finish. That. Sentence.” The door bursts open before Silas can make a move.Killianstands in the doorway. His posture is tense. His face, carefully neutral. His clothes, as ever, are pristine. “Idareyou.”
Silas’s jaw clenches again. He inhales a breath, and turns to face Killian. “King,” he clips. “How lovely to see you. I was just saying hello to your…fiancée.” He injects a lot of doubt into the word.
Fuck my life, but I know what I need to do. I goddamn hate the idea of it—I hate Killian for dragging me back into this world,hisworld—but I’m in it now. I can either play the game and win or get killed.
“Killian.” I stand from my seat, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here. Is it already dinner time?”
Killian masks his surprised quite well, but I catch the twitch in his eyebrow. “It is, my love. Are you ready to go? Have you finished for the day?”
“More than ready.” I give an exaggerated sigh. “I was just about to drop with exhaustion when Silas came in.” I gather my laptop and notebook into my bag and cross the room, embracing Killian and pressing my lips to his.
Ruse or not, the kiss turns too real, too fast. His hands clutch my waist, his tongue penetrates my lips, and every morsel of Killian’s energy bears down on me from all sides, making me dizzy.
