Page 41 of Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy 3)
I do what’s necessary.
Fear. Intimidation. Respect.
That’s how I rule my empire. That’s how I protect my people. After the retribution we exacted over the last several days, no one will question my authority again, and only someone with a death wish would dare spill a drop of Keira’s blood.
All the loose ends are finally tied up. A deal has been struck. And now life moves on.
Steam clouds the mirror as I turn off the water and grab a towel. Once my hands are dried, I use it to wipe away the haze on the glass.
I rarely look at my reflection. I don’t need to see the devil staring back at me. But this time, I see something more, and it’s not just the blood spray on what used to be my snowy-white shirt. No, it’s a man with purpose. A man willing to make the streets run red if it means protecting what matters most.
Before her, I had every material possession, but still nothing to lose.
Now, there’s nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice to keep her safe. Purpose. That’s what separates a strength from a weakness.
Keira said motivations make all the difference in the world. Maybe she’s right. I’ll never look into this mirror and see someone noble and honorable, but if that’s the man she sees when she looks at me, I can live with that—as long as I get to keep her.
I strip off my remaining clothes and step into the shower, scrubbing every inch of me until I’m certain that not a drop of blood remains. At least, on the surface.
I’ll always be brutal. Ruthless. Fierce in protecting what’s mine.
She doesn’t need to see that part of me. Ever. But I can give her the part of me no one else has ever had, and hope that it’s enough.
When I slip into the closet through the hidden passageway, I’m silent as always. A glow comes from the bedroom, but everything else is dark.
My footsteps don’t make a sound as I head toward the light.
Toward her.
She’s asleep in the middle of the bed, her red hair up in a messy bun and her hand clenched around her phone, as though waiting for it to ring.
I should have called. Should have told her I was okay. But I’m still new at this.
I hope there’s not a next time, but I’d be lying to myself if I said that. There will always be a next time. Another threat. Another person who needs killing.
But staring at the woman in my bed, I realize that I don’t need to be the one exacting justice myself.
I need to be here. With her. Making sure she doesn’t fall asleep alone, with dark circles under her eyes.
Everything in me wants to wake her, or at the very least, crawl into bed beside her. Instead, I take a chair in the shadows and watch over her while she sleeps.
My privilege and my penance.
Keira
When I jolt awake, it’s from a terrible dream. One where Lachlan never comes home to me because his blood drained down a gutter and his body disappeared, never to be found again. A nightmare.
“No,” I whisper. “No. He has to come home.” I wrap my arms around myself and squeeze.
“I am home.”
I jerk my head in the direction of the deep voice, elated that the man I’ve been waiting days to see is seated on a chair in the corner. “Thank God. I thought you were dead.”
I jump out of bed and rush toward him as he stands. In the dim light, I can see his face is set in harsh lines. Mount. Not Lachlan.
“I’m not dead.”
“What’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” I stumble to a halt in front of him, taking in the pristine suit. What I really want to do is run my hands over every inch of his body to check for myself.
