{KAYLA}
Today...
"Kayla King."
The way my name reverberates in the room when he says it is like nothing I've heard before. Its lifeless, and yet there is no threat to it. Almost like hes trying to attempt kindness.
I startle when his knuckles caress my cold cheek. I've heard what this man is capable of. Why is he being so gentle with me? I don't know what force pushed me to follow what my dad asked of me tonight. Going to the NSC leaders house? Asking for a truce? Just because he fucked up and refused Nathans deal and we 're paying the consequences of having lost our town.
Or at least, I am.
There was a huge party when I showed up. A house full of NSC people who wanted nothing but to see me dead. The leader wasnt there, but his two daughters were. Emma and Billie Scott. And his stepson, Xi, was there too. I was in their driveway, turning around when he caught me.
Needless to say, the three of them and I have a tumultuous past. Hate is meaningless when you compare it to what the Scotts and my family feel toward each other. We are mortal enemies.
But my dad sent me there anyway. And I would probably have died, beaten up by a crowd of NSC, if Nathan White hadn't pulled me out of there.
What for? He's their boss now: We refused his deal, refused to work for him, and he took it to NSC.
So why the hell am I sitting on his kitchen island, holding ice wrapped in a coth to my busted lip?
"Being brave has to be timed perfectly. "
It takes me a few seconds to come back from being lost in the depths of his midnight eyes. The chant of a siren has nothing on the ocean that swallows you when you look into Nathan s eyes.
"Worried about me being killed?" I rasp. Talking out loud hurts my ribs. But I'll get over it quickly. Its not the first time I've gotten beaten up. The war between the North Shore Crew and the Kings started ong befoe I was born. Being in trouble is the way I grew up.
"I just think it will be a shame if a pretty thing like you to get hurt beyond repair."
He doesn't mean it. I can see it right away.
Still, my heart skips a beat, blood rushing to my ears, but I narrow my eyes at him. "Is that how you hit on girls? Save them from being beaten to death, bring them to your house, tell them they're pretty?"
A chilling smile curls his lips. Its not subtle, and he makes no attempts at stopping it. For a second, I wonder how long it 'll spread. It ends up wide enough to be haunting.
"I'm an opportunist," he explains calmly, hiding nothing of his horrible personality. "I like to help myself before others jump on an occasion."
I snort and look away from him so I don't lose composure. "Sorry to break it to you but many have jumped for an occasion to fuck me before you did."
He reaches next to me, grabbing the tumbler of whiskey he helped himself to when we arrived earlier. He didnt offer me one, and I didn't bother asking. I'm not planning on staying here. The only reason I haven't run away yet is because of self-preservation. I know not to anger a big player.
Swirling his whiskey, the amber liquid sloshes to the side. He stares at it before looking up at me. "But did they jump on the occasion to fuck you when you were vulnerable? When you were ready to do anything to keep your family and your crew out of trouble? When you were in such a dire situation, you went all the way to your enemies' territories to ask for a truce?"
His eyes stay frozen on me as he talks. l'm trying to look for something in them, but I'm met with an emotionless presence. He's accusing himself of abusing someone vulnerable, warning me that's exactly what he's planning on doing, and his voice is as flat as someone ordering a meal at a drive through.
"I'll take a vulnerable woman with my burger, please."
Everyone notices him. It's always the most handsome ones who are the most fucked up. I see Nathan around town. I see him coming to check on NSC, making sure the territories he's acquiring for his boss are going to make the Bianco family richer.
He doesnt look like any of us. He's a real criminal. The kind that walks around in a suit, always looking his best when he causes chaos. Tattoos peek above the collar of his shirt, on his hands and knuckles, letting us all wonder how many more he's hiding under the black button-down.
Hes handsome; he wears glasses that make him look smart. Hes not raw like us. We wear our misery on our faces. We make ourselves look tough. We show the tattoos of which crew we belong to. Because the tougher you appear, the less likely someone will come and look for trouble
Nathan isn t like that. He wears a perfectly molded mask.
Real monsters hide under pretty faces. Or how would they get so close to their victims?
I bite the tip of my tongue as I observe him. Wondering if I'm going to have to fuck him to get out of here, or if l could just hop off the counter and walk out of here. I doubt the latter is an option. And I doubt the former would be that easy.
I could swear Nate fucked like he kills. And I've seen him kill–it's terrifying.
"Yeah, " I finally say. "But not the way you think."
He cocks an eyebrow at me, the only sign that he is interested in my opinion. "Tell me what I'm thinking."
"You're thinking I'm going to drop to my knees and suck your dick. Offer you anything you want so that, in exchange, you stop NSC from unleashing their fury on the Kings."
I thought I'd see at least a spark of interest in his eyes, but nothing shows.
What the fuck is wrong with this guy?
Ignoring the fact that his lack of emotion makes me feel uneasy, I keep going. "I won't. My kind of despair makes me murderous." I lean toward him, my eyes roaming over his gorgeous face. "You get in my way, you die. Period."
He has no problem holding my stare. He even breathes me in.
"Do it."
I feel a crease forming between my eyebrows, "What?"
"Do it, Kayla. I've got a leash on the Kings that's tighter than a virgin's cunt. Trust me when I tell you that all their power comes from me. Everything that makes your crew miserable comes from me." His gaze on me becomes more intense, but lifeless as always. "I am the one in your way. So, do it. Kill me."
For the first time tonight, I see something on his face. I wouldn 't know quite how to define it. Curiosity Excitement?
Does he...really want me to kill him?
Shifting on his counter, I put the ice to the side. "Anyone ever told you, you're fucked in the head?"
"Many times," he replied nonchalantly. "So, are you going to kill me or what?"
He takes a sip of his whiskey.
"If you manage, your whole crew will be able to take over the North Shore again. Although, I have to tell you the rules first. I'l allow you a fair try, but if you fail...then we ll do it my way. I kind of like the getting-down-on-your-knees-and-sucking-my-dick idea you mentioned. " He smiles behind the rim of his glass. Nothing about it portrays happiness. It's pure mockery. "And once I have my way with you, I promise I'll think about reeling back NSC."
"You're–"
"Fucked in the head," he cut in sharply. "I heard you the first time. Think of it this way: no matter what happens tonight, you'll be leaving tomorrow morning knowing your crew is safe."
"Cute that you think it'll take me until tomorrow morning to kill you," I rasped.
In that flat voice of his, he states the facts. "You won t kill me. But I will fuck your pretty body until tomorrow morning, that is for sure."
I lick my lips, swallowing my response. I'm more than capable of killing a man. I'm just not sure I can kill this man. No one becomes the right-hand in a Cosa Nostra family by being an easy target. Plus, he's expecting it, ready to defend himself...