Page 4 of Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy 2)
“I only did what needed to be done. Now, get dressed and get your shit. I’ll get Destiny. You’re both getting the fuck out of this house. I’ll take you as far as the church shelter a few blocks over. Have them call your social worker. Tell that lady what Jerry tried to do.”
She jerked her head around to look at his body. “What do I tell her about . . . this?”
“The truth.”
Hope’s teary blue gaze lifted to mine, fear in it once more. “But they’ll come after you—”
“They’ll never find me.”
Hope bit her lip and released her grip on me.
“Hurry up. We gotta move.”
As soon as I walked out of that house for the last time, both girls huddled behind me, I realized my last foster mom was wrong when she called me the spawn of Satan.
I was the devil himself.
Mount
Present day
Keira pushes me, fraying the edges of my control, which is something I’ve never allowed anyone to do.
I fucking slammed a door.
I don’t react in anger. Not anymore. All my actions are the result of cold, precise calculation.
But this woman has me slamming fucking doors.
I told myself it wouldn’t be a problem. I could have her, keep her, control her—and never let her become anything more than a possession. I promised myself I’d stay detached and indifferent, because the alternative never leads anywhere good. I learned that as a kid.
Treat everything like it’s temporary. That’s one thing that’s always true. None of us make it out of this life alive, so why bother to pretend otherwise?
Another thing I’ve always thought was true? That I have complete control over myself and my reactions.
False.
Keira Kilgore has become something I never intended, but I make the rules in my world, so there’s nothing fucking stopping me from changing plans now. The best part about being the king? I can do whatever I want.
Keeping her could be a mistake, but I’m not letting her go. Especially now that I have even more hold over her after paying off her bank loans and adding them to her tab.
I’ve never let myself want like this. I may rule an empire, but I’ve stayed at the top because I’ve never shown weakness.
She’s only a weakness if I allow her to be, and that shit ends right now.
I want to go back to her rooms and tell her exactly how I killed Lloyd Bunt, which would drive her away from me for good.
That’s exactly what I should do. But what’s the point of ruling an empire if you can’t have everything you want, even if you shouldn’t have it?
As the thought filters through my brain, I realize I’m on the verge of creating an exploitable weakness. Something I’ve fought all these years.
But I’m Lachlan fucking Mount. I dragged myself out of the gutters of this unforgiving city, changed my identity, learned to do whatever I needed to not only survive, but thrive. I became the weed that grows between the sidewalk cracks and refuses to die. I clawed my way up the ladder of this organization and took the throne by force. To the outside world, I rule through fear, intimidation, and the absolute willingness to back up every single fucking threat I make.
I have every material possession a man could want. At this very moment, I’m walking on white-and-gold Persian carpets between walls plastered by Italian master craftsmen, lit by 14K-gold-plated sconces and crystal chandeliers that cost more than I want to think about. I surround myself with the best of the best, and I don’t for one second pretend it’s not because I’m still trying to forget what it’s like to live in my own filth.
By the time I reach for the hidden latch that releases one of dozens of secret entries leading to a network of passageways connecting every single property I own on this block, I’ve managed to get my breathing under control.
Every encounter with Keira affects me more than the last, and this one is no exception. I can’t let it continue. I will regain the upper hand. It’s a vow I make as a floor-to-ceiling painting slides aside and leads into the maze.
