Salvi's city was dirty, and Catalina never liked walking its streets. They weren't ever allowed to, but when they did, going to church on Sundays, she couldn't help but shudder at how dirty it was—like he pissed on every lamp post, corner, brick wall just to mark it his.

Kael's city is just as dirty, maybe even more, but he doesn't have to piss on it. Other than the fact that he's too refined for that, he doesn't have to, point blank. Catalina sees that it knows his status and power, the things he's capable of doing, with just a light footstep.

She knows this from his rare day-off when Catalina asks Kael to show her his city. Here are the other things she learns about the Fourth's empire:

• He owns majority of the clubs slash casinos in the city, one for each district.

• There are warehouses and factories for their people, drugs, and weapons.

• The Kincaids' headquarters is disguised as a huge corporate building.

• People look at him with respect and awe. He's a hotshot CEO above the underworld, after all.

And during the enlightening tour, here are the things she learns about the Fourth Kael:

• His phone is never off, and it keeps buzzing throughout the day. This shouldn't surprise her—as established, he doesn't work a normal nine to five job.

• He doesn't pick up the whole time he's with her.

• He's observant of his surroundings, guard up, even with his men on their tail.

• He's always watching her face, her reaction, like he's anticipating she'll run.

• Always touching some part of her body—wrist, forearm, back, hip. Catalina thinks this is his way of showing everyone they come across that he's the only one who gets to touch her like that.

• Or it's a warning and a promise not to even look at her the wrong way.

His hand grips her waist even tighter when they walk in the last warehouse. It looks more like a gym with a boxing ring in the center, with sandbags and dummy boards with knives stuck to them strewn over the large space. About twenty to thirty men fill the room, sweating and grunting with the forces of their punches, hits, and kicks. Most of them are shirtless.

The women Catalina sees are just three.

"So this is the training grounds," Catalina muses quietly, looking up at Kael.

"Yes," he says, nodding. All of them immediately make way, bowing their heads as they do so. "This is where all of us start."

She follows his lead with furrowed eyebrows when he brings her to the platform up the little stairs, where there's a couch and bar overlooking the gym. "Us?"

Catalina worriedly glances around. These men...they all look like they're ready to tear each other apart with their fists and knives. She winces at the sound of slashing metal.

Catalina is pretty used to cutting with a knife, but not while the other person is conscious.

"I lived here before I was seventeen." Kael takes her hand and pulls her to sit next to him. She didn't realize he'd been sitting on the couch already. He stares at her and says, "Scrubbed the floors, did the dishes, trained. Got my ass kicked to death multiple times. Sometimes, the Third would come and fight me himself."

Catalina's lips part, blinking at him.

"At seventeen, I knocked him down," he tells her.

Catalina is careful to tiptoe around the Third with Kael. She doesn't know what kind of relationship they had, but clearly, he's in need of some non-brutal and non-abusive bonding ideas for a healthy father-son relationship.

Kael doesn't offer anything more. His hand sticks under hers, thumb brushing the back of her palm as he watches the floor, like he's trying to remind himself she's still here.

They stay for a while, and when Kael finishes his smoke, he leads her back to the car. "Back to the penthouse?" she questions, strapping in her seatbelt.

"No, we're going to dinner."

"I don't want to," Catalina says immediately, even though she does, actually, want to.

Kael turns to her. "That's the second time you've rejected dinner with me."

He says that like it's an annoying inconvenience.

"I have a traumatic first date dinner experience," Catalina informs him with a nod and a sigh. "He was lying to my face the whole time, you see."

His mouth twitches. "What an asshole."

"I know." Catalina gives him a sweet smile.

"Maybe he compensated with a good kiss. Got you wet."

This arrogant bastard. "Mm. I was actually going to let him take me home afterwards, but thank God I dodged that—"

In two swift moves, Kael has her seat dropped backwards, making her yelp in surprise, hands flailing. They ultimately land themselves on his chest when he hovers above her, knees on either side of her hips, hands on the seat above her head.

"You were saying?" Kael asks lowly, staring at her eyes.

One more thing:

• He likes eye contact. Lots of it.

Catalina's stomach churns from their position, struggling to hold their gazes together. She drops her hands from his chest, stupidly fisting them behind her back. "I..."

He raises an eyebrow.

She swallows thickly. "Like Thai."

Kael smiles slowly. "I do, too."

His hand reaches down, and with a flick, Catalina's seat goes back up, bringing their faces together.

Kael kisses her quickly on the lips and slides back to the driver's side. "Third time's a charm."

"Still an asshole," Catalina can't help but mutter under her breath, trying to calm her racing heart as she looks out the window.

The slap she gets on her thigh and the gentle rub after don't do anything to slow her heart rate. It doesn't help that it's the hand with his wedding band on, a silver amongst the ink tattered onto his beautiful skin.

This time, instead of touching a part of her body, Kael takes Catalina's hand in his as they walk in the restaurant together. He doesn't let go until they're seated on opposite couches at an empty table near the window.

They order, and then they're left with their water and silence. Catalina feels bad for the poor waiter who had to scramble for the menus; his hands were shaking.

Another buzz of Kael's phone on the desk, but he doesn't make a move to answer it—or the continuous buzzes after that.

Catalina raises an eyebrow. "You can answer that."

He hums, drumming his fingers on the table.

She swallows and turns to the window.

"Are you still wary?" Kael asks quietly.

Catalina faces him again, blinking. "Of what?"

"Of me."

"Yes." As much as she feels scarily attracted to the man—God bless her soul, really, or whatever's left of it—and as much as she wants to know him and ask him questions, Catalina should protect her heart.

The Fourth doesn't feel fear—he instills it. And there's no telling if he feels love.

Maybe he loves Jae, maybe he's just raising him to be the Fifth. Catalina doesn't know, she doesn't want to know, she can't.

And what if he leaves the house one day and never comes back? What if she's waiting for a dead man to come home? What if—

"You'll allow me your body but nothing else," he spits bitterly, jaw tight.

"You only have a right to my body," Catalina snaps. "I don't owe you anything else."

Contrary to what he thinks, she knows a thing or two about self-preservation.

"I thought you wanted to make this marriage work." His voice drips with impatience and displeasure. "That's what you said last night. Or did the city change your mind?"

Catalina looks at the window. "I still do. Nothing changed my mind."

"Then give me something," Kael demands quietly, still with an edge to his voice. "Give me something you haven't given Chuck or Jae. I showed you the gym."

He's greedy. Manipulative.

Catalina purses her lips. "There's not much to me."

"I'll decide that."

Of course he will. Catalina rolls her eyes, but she asks, "What do you want to know?"

She instantly wants to take it back, because Kael's gaze turns intent and focused, like he's really thinking about it.

So Catalina blurts out, "My favorite color is navy blue. I love Hanjuku cheesecakes. I cried embarrassingly the first time I held a beating heart in my hands. Aires's first kill was because of me. I still make wishes after I blow a stray eyelash. The first night I ran away, I stripped in my living room and danced on the table in my underwear with a bottle of alcohol."

The corner of Kael's lips turns up.

Catalina clears her throat and looks away.

Kael drums his fingers on the table. "Now ask me what you want to know. I'll answer what I want to answer."

There's a million.

Their food arrives. They both take a couple of spoonfuls first before Catalina decides with, "Is Jae the Fifth?"

Kael fixes her with an even stare. "For now."

"Why did you adopt him?"

"I wanted to raise my own little killer, just like how the Third raised me. I taught him everything he knows."

The response is so cold and calculated. Detached.

Catalina bites her lip. "You're not the Third." You're not your father.

She's not sure how she knows that, she's seen what kind of man Kael is, and it's not good. But there's certainty in her voice that doesn't waver.

Is this why he doesn't want heirs? Why he wants to get her on the pill?

When he doesn't say anything more, Catalina tries another. "I already know what Polo does, but what does Chuck do?"

He stabs his fork in a piece of meat and twists it. She's reminded of how he did the same thing with his knives on her attackers' thighs. "My dirty work, cleans the blood, hunts. Kills for me when I ask him to. I point someone at him and that someone is already six feet under with maggots shitting on the corpse."

And he still manages to be rainbows and sunshine?

She drinks her water and swallows. When she puts it down, she takes a deep breath and asks, "And Merlot?"

"Handles my men, activity and territories, keeps tabs on our incomes. I trained her to fight myself."

Right. So she's beautiful, competent, smart, and has had personal sessions with her husband not limited to training.

God, Catalina, get a fucking grip on yourself. There are more important things to worry about!

Kael is watching her face, beautiful brown eyes on hers.

"Did you punish her? For the attack?"

"They all get punished when they don't follow orders," Kael answers in a flat voice. "She was late. You were harmed."

Catalina, as much as she hates that woman, feels a slight twinge of guilt. "Do you care about any of them?" she asks quietly.

He pauses for a moment. "I care that they do their jobs because I pay them," Kael says. "They're loyal dogs."

"I don't believe that."

His lips turn up into that dangerous smile. "And you? What do you care about?"

"Surgery," she answers immediately. "Life. My siblings. Money."

"Ah, yes. Francesca," Kael muses. Catalina stiffens at the way he says her name. "The only reason why you agreed to marry me."

When Catalina doesn't refute that, Kael raises his eyebrow. "Money?"

"I'm not a saint. I love surgery, I love using my hands—"

"I'm sure you do."

"—But the money is also good," Catalina finishes, narrowing her eyes at his comment. "I was saving up."

"To grab your siblings and run."

Her lips part.

Softly, she demands, "How do you know that?"

"Not hard to figure out," Kael quips, drumming his fingers on the table again. His wedding band shines under the light. "I'm curious. How were you intending to outrun your father?"

"Intelligently," Catalina answers firmly, swallowing thickly. "Guns out and bleeding if I had to."

Kael stares at her.

"But I knew it was hopeless," Catalina mutters, leaning back against the seat. "The only way out of the mafia is to be dead. And I don't know if I can live with the fear of my siblings getting caught if I ever managed to pull it off."

Kael is still watching her face.

"What did you do to the Croce family?" she asks slowly, not really sure if she wants to hear the answer. "They told me I can pay for what you did to them."

Kael's gaze doesn't waver. He says, "I killed their heir."

Catalina takes a breath. "Why?"

"He wanted something of mine."

His words settle between them.

Catalina wonders what that is.

Instead of asking, she clears her throat and picks with the chicken on the table. "Leg, thigh, breast?"

"That's difficult; all of the above," Kael answers in his deep voice, pointedly looking at her chest. Under the table, his foot nudges her feet apart.

She lets out a squeak in surprise and almost kicks him. He pulls his foot back.

She flushes and gives him a flat look. "The chicken part."

His mouth twitches, and Catalina rolls her eyes and picks up a random part, going to dump it on his plate.

Kael shakes his head and reaches for his water. "I don't eat chicken."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really."

"I was forced to hold it alive and break its neck when I was eight," he says, licking his lips.

Catalina puts the chicken down. "Right."

He smiles down at his plate, and they finish the rest of their food in silence.

In the car, once Kael backs off the parking spot, Catalina asks, "Now what?"

He glances at her and answers, "Now I'm going to take you home, like how you would've let me that first date."

*

Jae and Chuck are playing video games on the couch when Kael and Catalina step in the penthouse.

"How was the meeting?" Kael inquires.

"We're Gucci, hyung!" Jae shouts gleefully, fingers pressing furiously on the controls.

Kael scowls. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means all good," Catalina explains, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

He rolls his eyes. "Go upstairs and do your homework," he orders. "And Chuck, don't bleed on my floor, the tiles are fucking expensive."

His left turns to him, blinking, and then he looks down. "Oh, shit."

Catalina gasps at the blood dripping on the floor. "You're hurt?" She hurries to sit next to him, her eyebrows drawing together in worry.

"No, I normally spurt blood from my ribcage," Chuck answers with a teasing smile.

She rolls her eyes and puts her fingers on the hem of his shirt to yank it up and inspect the damage.

Chuck slaps her hands, eyes wide. "Shit, blondie, don't get me killed."

"How long have you been bleeding out?" Catalina demands, angry. "Playing video games!" She scoffs incredulously and yanks up his shirt again.

Chuck slaps her hands away. "I'll go to the doctor—"

Catalina grips his chin, looks into his eyes, and says, "I'm a doctor. Stop that or I'll stick my needle into the slit of your dick."

Chuck drops his hands, blinking.

She successfully gets his shirt off his head when Chuck doesn't move. "Jae, get me the first-aid kit."

The younger scrambles off the couch, dropping his controller.

"Lie back," Catalina says, settling herself between his legs.

Chuck does as she orders and doesn't say another word. Jae comes back and hands her the kit, and she begins cleaning the wound.

She hears hushed whispers, Kael and Jae talking, but she pays them no mind.

"Eyes up, Chuck," Kael orders quietly, suddenly behind her. His breath tickles her neck. "Or I'll actually do what she said. It's not a bad suggestion."

Catalina turns sharply and regrets it.

Kael's face is right in front of hers, mouths barely an inch apart.

She narrows her eyes at him despite the pounding of her heart. "Adding that to your list of torture methods?"

"I'll credit you for it. Chuck can be the guinea pig," he whispers, eyes dropping to her lips.

Catalina's insides tie themselves into knots as she watches his eyes travel back to her own.

"Chuck would rather not be," Chuck says. "And the eye-fucking that's commencing may take place again later because Chuck is still here," Chuck informs them.

Face heating, Catalina pokes her needle into his skin.

"Ow, Jesus Christ—"

"Oh, shut up," Catalina mutters, turning her back to Kael and focusing on his wound. "Chuck can handle a little poke," she mocks.

Chuck half-groans and half-laughs. "I thought you didn't want to save anyone under and with Kael."

Catalina can feel Kael watching the side of her face. "This isn't saving, this is just helping," she reasons quietly. "Your life isn't on the line."

They let her fix up the wound in silence. Once she's done, Kael barks, "Clean the blood then get out, Chuck. Jae, upstairs. You have class tomorrow. Have you eaten?"

Raising a little killer, my ass, Catalina thinks. He even knows the boy's class schedule, asking whether or not he's had dinner.

Jae nods, pouts and turns off the television, trudging upstairs.

Chuck smiles at her. "Thank you, blondie."

In their room, once Chuck is gone and they've showered, they lie down on the bed in each of their territories, and Kael puts his gun beside him.

Catalina clutches the pillow, knowing she'd let go of it once sleep takes her, and whispers, "This city is afraid of you."

Kael's chest rises and falls steadily as he stares at himself at the mirror above the bed. "It knows who it belongs to."

She also knows who she belongs to, but there's no fear. Not as much as before, anyway.

It's dangerous and sinful and wicked...but maybe it's not such a bad place to be.

*

Like all those past mornings, Catalina wakes up with a heartbeat in her ear.

She's crawled all over the side of Kael's bed and all but climbed on top of him like a koala—legs around his calves, locking them in, arms around his waist...also locking him in. She's nestled like a goddamn dog in heat in his chest, and his hard and stiff length is poking her thigh.

For the first time, Kael is still asleep.

Wincing, Catalina slowly untangles herself from him. His face, even in sleep, looks guarded and restless. Hauntingly beautiful. Intimidating. Sharp and cold.

He also looks lonely.

Her finger reaches out to trace his cheekbone, but she instantly pulls it back, her heart climbing to her throat, when the bedroom door slams open.

Kael has her pushed behind him and his gun pointed in that direction in a flash.

"Hello!" a female high-pitched voice singsongs, and then she comes into view, gasping. Her palms raise in the air. "Kael, dear! What a rude way to greet someone a good morning!"

Kael lets out an angry breath, muscles still tense and alert. "Fucking Christ, Samara," he hisses, protectively positioned in front of Catalina.

His back has scars of knife slashes all over it. Catalina's lips part at the white ridges over his tan skin.

"Please!" Samara begs, eyebrows pulling together, hands in the air shaking. "I have a wife and four kids!"

"I have a fucking gun!" Kael waves it around to prove his point.

"My youngest is still teething!"

"Christ, your existence gives me a headache." Kael points his gun to the corner of the room. "Stand over there."

"Okay, rude." Samara huffs and blows the hair away from her face. Then, beaming, she peeks around Kael to chirp, "Good morning, Catalina!"

"Hi," she squeaks, still in shock. She's been awake for a total of two minutes and a lot of shit has happened. She needs coffee to process that Samara just burst inside their bedroom and Kael nearly killed her.

Kael tosses his gun on the bed and runs a hand through his messy hair and face. He turns around to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. "There should be a good goddamn reason you fucked my morning, Samara."

Catalina smiles at him, seeing the question of you okay? in his eyes. She puts her hand over his and thumbs his knuckles.

He promised to protect her and that's what he did—albeit a false alarm. He pushed her behind him.

He looks down at their hands, forehead creasing.

"I'm sorry, I was just excited!" Samara twirls around, and Catalina gets a good look of what she's wearing. It's a floor-length black lace dress with flowers embroidered on the fabric. The sleeves reach her elbows, the skirt has a slit that showcases her long and smooth legs, and a belt accentuates her waist. It's see-through, which means the parts that only need to be covered are the only ones covered.

In other words: she's gorgeous.

"Sue cooked breakfast, so come down once you guys are ready. Catalina, we are going to have a superb day."

She sings a song on the way out of their room. Catalina catches a glimpse of the four-line tattoo at the back of her neck.

She blinks. "That...was that a threat?"

"Possibly," Kael murmurs. "With Samara, I never fucking know."

He's still looking at their hands, head tilted to the side.

Catalina pulls her hand away. "Sorry."

Kael snatches it back, looking up at her. "That's the first time you touched me."

She blinks at him. "I touch you all the time."

He raises an eyebrow, turning her hand over. "Not enough. Certainly not when you're awake and without my tongue down your throat."

Catalina scowls.

Kael's mouth twitches. His thumb strokes her wrist, and then it moves towards the center of her palm.

They're rough hands from being wrapped in gloves all day in the hospital, from scrubbing in the OR, from the amount of practice in the precision she's had to put into cutting.

But Kael says, in his low voice that she doubts he even realizes he opened his mouth, is: "Pretty."

And then he lets it go and stands up to head to the bathroom, grabbing his phone on the way. Catalina bites her lip watching his back, the waistband of his Calvin Kleins visible on top of his sweatpants.

Catalina washes her face and brushes her teeth at the sink beside his. While she's rinsing her mouth, Kael says, "Polo texted to ask if Samara and Merlot coming with him was okay. I didn't know Samara was going to burst in our bedroom."

She raises her head and looks at him in the mirror. He's leaning against the wall, staring at her, watching her face.

She translates that to: I told you everyone else besides Chuck and Polo need our okay to come in our house. I'm sorry they came in without it.

It's as close to an apology as she's going to get. Catalina smiles at him in the mirror and wipes her mouth before turning around to face him, leaning against the sink. "Our bedroom," she repeats softly, her insides turning into mush.

"I call it as it is."

"It's not your fault," she says, pursing her lips. "But for all his intellectual capacity, I think Polo needs to realize he needs a reply first."

"He didn't give them the code, but you're right." His eyebrows furrow and his jaw tightens. "I'll talk to him."

"No, it's fine." She shakes her head. "I doubt he had much choice, Samara seems like a...persuasive person. What did she mean, by the way?"

Kael steps forward to her closet. He opens a drawer and pulls out one of her sweaters, then he hands it to her. "Wear this first."

She raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Polo and Chuck are downstairs."

"So?"

"So," Kael bites out, stepping forward, caging her against the sink with both palms on the counter. He leans down to level his face with hers. "You're not going down there in a fucking towel."

She is in a nightgown, for fuck's sake. "I seriously doubt they'll look," Catalina counters stubbornly, narrowing her eyes at him. "Unless they want to be shot dead."

"I really need my right and left, Catalina," Kael says through gritted teeth. "And even though they won't look, I will, and I need my head on straight."

"I'm assuming you're talking about this head." She taps his cheek with a grin.

Kael pushes his tongue against that cheek and cocks his head to the side. "Think you're funny?"

"Hilarious."

His hands suddenly land on her thighs, pushing the silk of her nightgown up to her waist. Catalina gasps, hands going down to his forearms, eyes wide.

"What about now?" Kael asks quietly, raising his eyebrows, fingers palming and squeezing her chest, then they go down to dance along the hem of her underwear. "I'll do this to you all breakfast in front of them if you don't fucking cover up. Make you my breakfast."

Catalina pushes her foot on his stomach, making him step away. She snatches the sweater and angrily pulls it down her head, face flushed hot. "You're an asshole."

"So I've been told." He grips her neck with his palm and tilts her head up, then kisses her slowly.

Catalina's hands go to his bare waist as she melts in his kiss.

Then, angrily, she pulls back and glares at him. "Put on a shirt, then."

He raises an eyebrow, thumb stroking her throat.

"Samara's down there." And Sue and fucking Merlot.

"Samara doesn't fucking care if I'm shirtless or not."

"I care, put it on."

Kael's mouth slowly curves into a condescending smile. "I don't take well to orders, Catalina, I give them."

"Tough shit," Catalina says, dragging her hands to his stomach and abs, scraping her nails along his skin. He sucks in a sharp breath, jaw tightening. "Or I'll go down without the sweater and I won't care which head of yours is going to struggle."

He leans down again to kiss her harshly, biting her bottom lip before he pulls back completely and grabs a shirt. He looks at her the whole time he's putting his sleeves on, and then his head over it. "Both."

"What?"

"Both heads are going to struggle." He takes her hand and leads her out their room. He grabs his gun on the way and straps it to his waistband. "This fucking breakfast is a goddamn inconvenience already and it hasn't even started yet. I'm going to rot."

Catalina can't help the laugh that escapes her mouth.

Kael suddenly stops at the stairs, turning around to look at her.

Her laugh simmers down at his blank face, eyes watching her. She covers her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, was that too loud?"

"No," Kael answers. Catalina can't decipher his tone. "No."

She blinks at him when he still doesn't move.

"Kael?"

"Shit, give me a second."

Catalina can hear the clanking of utensils and chatter in the kitchen.

He stares at her in silence for another few seconds. Finally, Kael's Adam's apple moves, and then he turns back around to head down the stairs.

Catalina follows after him, hand in his. She wonders if he'd answer if she questioned him about what that was about.

But for now: breakfast with his family.

Ah. Erratum: their family.

*

#ReignTheFourthWP