There is nothing in this world that fazes Samara Eakon-Kincaid—not even Catalina coming apart from Kael's fingers in bed.

"Good afternoon, I have to start getting Cata ready!" Samara shouts, entering from the doorway of their bedroom.

They really need to start talking about privacy in this goddamn family.

Catalina grasps Kael's wrist, eyes flying open, panting and cheeks flushed. "Stop!"

"I need you to come again first, baby." He kisses her temple, fingers deep inside her. His other hand moves to grab his gun.

"Samara, don't—!" Catalina tries to say to stop her from entering, pushing Kael away, but her husband doesn't budge. If anything, his rhythm quickens and Catalina chokes on a moan.

"Making your wife exquisite is going to take time," Samara sings, entering the room. She blinks once at the sight before her—Catalina on Kael's lap, her back to his chest, his hand inside her shorts and underwear. "Oh, well, she can come first, I don't mind waiting."

Kael clicks his gun and points to the door with it while Catalina's head hides in his neck, wanting the ground to swallow her up. Now. "Leave."

Samara puts her hands on her hips with a pout. "Now that's  not the way to speak to your stepmother, I should put you up for adoption—"

Catalina gasps and jumps when Kael's wrist begins moving again, playing with her clit, at the same time he shoots the freaking wall beside Samara's head.

"Fine! I'll let the ghost of your father, fuck his soul, and your sleep paralysis demons fight for custody." The informant flips her hair over her shoulder as she walks away, her boots clicking.

"You need to stop damaging our walls—ah," Catalina whispers, scratching her nails on the nape of his neck. "You are...impossible."

"You're mine," Kael returns, kissing her cheek, as Catalina melts in his arms.

Before she can return the favor, Kael shakes his head and kisses her roughly. "I need to leave you in Samara's hands."

"Oh, what a good way to perish."

Kael laughs, biting her bottom lip, before he stands and slaps her butt. She feels unexplainable warmth bubble in her chest with his mood.

He's been tense and on edge since early this morning because they're going to Cirillo Mirkov's birthday party. As much as Catalina wants to stay in bed all day with her husband who shoots people when they annoy him, a fundamental quality of his sterling personality, they have to get moving for the short flight to Ilwich.

Samara wrinkles her nose as she surveys the 'damage' she needs to rectify—Catalina's face and hair.

She sits in front of the mirror, suddenly feeling self-conscious after her shower. Catalina tells herself this is nothing compared to Samara walking in with Kael's fingers literally inside her.

Today, his stepmother is wearing a short dress in yellow with puffed sleeves and a tutu ending inches above her knees, and matching soft yellow boots with stiletto heels. She has a tiny yellow bag on her arm to match, and a disturbing necklace made out of fake bones.

"Okay." Samara claps her hands. "I see the vision. Don't blame me if Kael takes out at least one eye tonight for ogling you too long."

Samara begins to work her magic, and Catalina fiddles with her fingers on her lap, brushing her thumb on her ring.

It's hardly the first event in the mafia she attends, but she's been out of the game for years and this is her first appearance as Kael's wife.

As the Fourth's wife.

"You should come, too," Catalina speaks up.

"Already did. Twice."

"Sam—" She rubs her forehead. "To the party."

Samara's face remains impassive as she continues brushing color on Catalina's eyelids. "Not at Mirkov's. They already took me once."

Catalina almost opens her eyes in surprise, but Samara slaps her cheek. "Don't mess it up!" she snaps.

"Sorry," Catalina mutters. "But...why? How?"

"Just before the Third's funeral," Samara tells her casually, like she's narrating a bedtime story. "I was gone and tortured for two days."

Catalina takes a deep breath. Polo putting his hands on the Fourth. The scar on Kael's neck. "What did they want?"

She skips that question and says instead, "It was just the perfect time to bring him and our family down."

"I thought the Mirkovs and the Kincaids were friends."

"The Third and Crius were," Samara says, moving to her other eyelid. "Cirillo and Kael are not."

It looks like it's all Samara will say, because she shuts up about it and focuses on Catalina's makeup, then goes on to talk to her about her favorite and least favorite sexual positions during foreplay. She recounts Kael's and Catalina's position earlier as one of her top five.

It feels like an hour passes before Catalina's hair and makeup are Samara-approved. Her jaw drops in surprise when looking at herself in the mirror—her blonde hair is curled in soft waves, falling over her shoulder, and her eyebrows are perfectly-trimmed and shaped. A dark brown with subtle glitters frames her eyelids, and her lips are the perfect shade of red.

"Oh, wow," Catalina can't help but murmur.

"I know!" Samara squeals. "Aren't I amazing?" She puts on two diamond earrings on Catalina and a thin gold bracelet. Then, the informant opens the closet and reveals her dress.

Catalina blinks. "When did you sneak that in our closet?"

"This morning while you and Kael were asleep! Cute, by the way. I snapped a picture of you guys cuddling naked. I'll Airdrop it to you."

"Asleep—naked—"

"Kael pointed a gun at me until I left, but don't worry, he didn't see the dress! It's a surprise."

Catalina understands why it's a surprise.

It's blood red. It's blood red, its silhouette elegant with thin straps and a low neckline, a leg slit high on her thigh. What makes her mouth dry, however, is the back.

It's completely open and exposed. Down to her tailbone.

"Now, say, 'Thank you, fairy godmother Samara, for my legs will shake tonight with an earth-shattering orgasm due to the beauty you have bestowed upon me.'"

Catalina slips on the dress, under a spell. It fits perfectly; the shape of her body smooth, sleek, and sexy. But her nerves begin to shrivel up at the thought of Kael's eyes on hers.

"Hey." Samara puts her hands on her shoulders and tips her chin up. "You are the Fourth's wife. In this world, that means you are the queen. You act like it, yes?"

Catalina nods once, posture straightening.

"And no matter how much you want to rub your hot coochie on my stepson, use this." Samara points to her temple. "You studied a thousand headshots. You'll see a lot of them tonight, so keep your guard up. You are not going to be surrounded by good people."

She's right. Catalina needs to be alert at this party and every other event that follows. If she's not going to be using a weapon, she needs to use her brain.

Catalina takes a deep breath and begins descending the stairs in her nude heels, Samara right behind her.

Jae is busy sipping his milk with one hand and biting into a hotdog in the other. He looks handsome in his white silk button-down with a very loose tie, a shiny black jacket over it, his hair parted in the middle. His dangling earrings on both ears move every time he chews.

Chuck and Polo are having their pre-game drinks at the bar. The former is in a white shirt with no collar, a navy blue suit jacket thrown over it and matching trousers. To anyone else, it might look underwhelming, but Chuck makes it look expensive with his natural charisma and charm. His wavy locks are gelled back.

The latter, however, looks like he's the one celebrating his birthday. Polo is in a three-piece suit, per usual, in burgundy with a black shirt underneath. His tie is the same shade, and beside his pocket square is a gold lapel chain.

Kael and Merlot are talking lowly near the bar. The captain is wearing a midi satin dress in chocolate brown with petal shaped pleated cups, her long black hair curled, her face coated in perfect makeup. Catalina wait for the pang of familiar insecurity, the one that always shows up whenever she's in the same room as Merlot Latona, but strangely, it doesn't come.

Finally, Catalina's eyes go back to her husband, her throat closing up, and all of her doubts fly out the window. Kael is in all black, a simple button-down shirt under a jacket and slacks. He looks sharp and powerful, his tattoos peeking at his neck and under his sleeves, silver rings on his fingers—on the hand that doesn't wear his wedding ring alone.

"Damn."

It was Chuck who breathed out the word, standing up from his place at the bar slowly. He glanced at her once, turned back to his drink, and then did a double-take, eyes now wide and bulging out of their sockets.

Jae chokes on his hotdog, turning around, coughing violently. Polo smiles a little, holding his hand out to Samara as she bounds down the stairs, brushing past her.

The second Kael's gaze meets hers, Catalina tenses and her whole being flushes hot.

His eyes run from her face, to her neck, the dip of her neckline, her hips, her legs—slowly, and then back up until he meets her eyes again. Kael steps forward, holding out his hand, and Catalina almost shivers when his thumb brushes her wrist. Her pulse jumps under his fingertip.

"I," Kael starts lowly, still staring at her, "will kill you, Samara."

"I," Samara returns with a giggle, placing a hand on Polo's chest, "am too pretty to lie in a casket, my dear."

"Too much?" Catalina asks with an arched brow, and she hates herself because her voice sounds way too breathy.

Kael's gaze darkens. And then slowly, he gets down on his knees, head tilting up to keep his eyes on hers, and one of his hands go to his pocket and the other takes hers to rest on his shoulder so she can balance herself.

That's the second time the Fourth got on his knees for her.

Kael doesn't look away from her as he lifts her foot and slides up a gartered holster, up her calf, all the way to her thigh, hands under her dress. His touch is gentle and reverent, fingers dancing under the fabric before he inserts the gun in its holder.

Catalina sucks in a breath feeling the barrel of the gun press against the skin of her thigh. Kael slowly stands up, and the skirt of her dress covers the holster. "This is for self-defense," he says lowly. "If anyone needs to kill, it won't be you."

He's keeping his promise. She doesn't need to be a killer. She has me.

"Holy shit, that was hot," Samara comments behind them.

"Are you sure it's wise to bring her?" Polo asks quietly, eyes on his boss.

Kael doesn't turn to him. "It's not."

"Mirkov will open his mouth," Chuck warns.

Her husband takes her hand. "Let's go."

They take three cars. Jae drives the first, a sleek black Mercedes Benz. Chuck drives the second, wide enough with a partition in between the seats, with Kael and Catalina in the back. Polo and Merlot take the one behind them.

Kael's hand rests on her exposed back, pulling her close, muscles tense once again. She leans against him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, her fingers toying with the lapels of his suit jacket.

"You don't go off alone, understand?" Kael mutters to her, tipping her chin up to look at her. "If you need to go to the restroom, Merlot will go with you. I'm not taking any chances at this fucktard's party."

Catalina nods. She doesn't like it, but after hearing what happened to Samara, she knows it's important to follow Kael's instructions. "Will Polo be okay? Facing him?"

"Polo will think about pulling him apart bone by bone in his head when we talk to him," he answers flatly. "But he won't do anything stupid."

"And Jae?"

She remembers Chuck saying he has trouble following orders whenever Mirkov is around.

"Jae will dream about eating those bones and relishing every single one," Kael answers, brushing his knuckles along the length of her exposed spine. She trails her own fingers across the inside of his jacket, his chest and torso. "He's protective of me."

Catalina's fingers stop. She meets his gaze. "Cirillo wants to kill you."

Kael presses his entire palm on her back. She swallows thickly at the size and warmth of it. "Everyone wants to kill me."

Catalina nods, taking a deep breath and not saying anything else.

His other hand with the rings travels from her lower back to her waist, and then to the exposed thigh where the slit of her dress is. He rubs her skin up and down, slowly, sensually.

"You like the all black?" Kael questions lowly, glancing at her hands that haven't been able to stop touching him, either.

Catalina nods, trying to swallow down her embarrassment. If Kael likes her in red, she likes him in black. "You look handsome."

His hand stops.

Catalina pulls back suddenly, lips parting in surprise and eyebrows raising when Kael stares at her dumbly.

He murders people for a living, known for his strategic approach and foresight for business, pleasure, and everything in between—but he blushes from a compliment.

"You—"

Kael kisses her, cutting her off.

"Not a word," he mutters in her mouth and moves back. "I'm too sober for this."

Catalina's laugh escapes freely from her chest as she watches him pour himself a little wine.

"No compliment for me, blondie?" Chuck asks, winking at her from the rearview mirror.

Catalina blinks. Kael gives her a warning glance, squeezing her thigh while he drinks. His throat moves up and down. "That...color," she starts, staring at her husband's throat, "brings out the murderous intent in your eyes."

Chuck howls loudly. "That's part of the job description, but thank you. The skill came in handy when I chose this career path."

She grins.

Kael's hand inches to the back of her neck, fingertips brushing her nape. "Keep this covered."

Catalina brushes some of her hair back and nods. She doesn't have the tattoo yet, and that may raise questions.

The Fourth's wife should've sworn her loyalty to him the second they got married.

Kael hasn't asked for it. Demanded for it. Taken it.

He's waiting for her to give it.

He grips her neck in a gentle hold and kisses her again, doesn't mind that his mouth is smudged with her red lipstick.

The flight is short, and Kael keeps his hands on her thighs, teasing at her slit and even fingering the garter where the gun holster is. Jae seems fidgety, listening to music, and Merlot sips her wine at the very back. Chuck is flirting with the flight attendant, and Polo is answering emails on his phone.

They take another three cars to the Mirkov mansion. Kael extends his hand to her as they step out in front of the entrance, and keeps his hand on her hip as they walk along. Flanked behind them are Chuck and Polo, and then Jae and Merlot.

They've arrived after dinner.

"Am I supposed to address you as the Fourth?" Catalina whispers.

Kael nods his head once. "Only in public."

She nods and takes a deep breath.

The house is bustling with life and elegance, the glamour in front of the violence all of these people commit. Men in expensive suits and women in shining jewelry mingle about, and waiters serve them champagne. A long buffet table covers the entire banquet hall.

Everyone turns to look at them, bowing their heads in respect for the guest of honor. Here, everyone is beneath the Fourth—even the man celebrating his birthday.

Catalina has never felt as powerful as she does now, all because of the man beside her and the new last name attached to her first.

She recognizes most of the faces when they come to greet them. Her father and Aires are present only for a short while, and they exchange pleasantries. Even those that don't come close, like the Arsenaus, the Ditkas, and the Chois, take their first look at her anyway. Kael keeps his arm secured around her back or her waist, and she smiles and takes the hand extended to her when he introduces her with the words, "My beautiful wife, Catalina."

With all the power comes all the fear. She never thought she'd have important people, people who barely spared her a glance when she was the eldest Di Angelo daughter, look up to her with bated breath and an exaggerated smile as they praise her beauty, as if expecting her to slice their throat in a heartbeat if they don't.

They're led to one of the round tables in the front out in the garden. Polo, Chuck, and Merlot look as composed as ever on the outside, the way they did when they walked in the Di Angelo mansion, used by the attention and proudly carrying the Kincaid name. Still, Catalina knows they're all surveying the place for any possible danger, guards up.

It's unnerving and dangerous to be in another territory, more so in the Mirkovs', which is why Jae looks like every second spent in Ilwich is a step closer to their deaths. It's different from when he ate at her family's house before Kael and Catalina were married, relaxed and shy.

He looks anything but now. And his brother, though he looks powerful and calm, he's stiff and tense as well.

Catalina presses her back against Kael's chest, puts a hand on top of his, resting on her lower stomach, and rubs her finger on his ring. He looks down at her, and Catalina only recognizes the split second of awe on his face, like he's not sure she was here with him until she touched him back, before wine glasses start clinking and capture their attention.

Cirillo Mirkov stands at the stage beside his brother, Stefano. They're both clad in a black tux with bowties. Unlike their pictures, big smiles grace their faces.

"Good evening everyone," Cirillo starts, holding the mic in his hand. "Welcome to Ilwich."

His city.

"My family and I would like to thank you all for coming. I feel honored that my birthday enticed you all to spare your time and celebrate this day with me." His smile widens, his gaze roaming the room. "My father would've wanted to greet you all personally, and he regrets having to be absent. Please grant him your wishes of recovery."

Murmurs of agreement spread around the room, and Catalina wants to roll her eyes. Not one body here would wish good health again upon a man like Crius Mirkov. Not even his sons.

Cirillo takes a deep breath, the sound echoing off the microphone. "To be honest, the idea of celebrating my birthday without my wife and child held no significance. However, they are the reason I still move forward. My purpose, why I still stand here before you, waiting for them to come home and making every effort to bring them back."

He has a child, but it wasn't in the records.

Cirillo's lips curve into a smile. Catalina feels herself shiver. "I will not stop looking for them. When I do, I will celebrate again, a grander party than this one."

A red party, he means. He'd probably hang heads from the chandelier as decoration, use the blood for his wife's lipstick.

Catalina shudders. Wherever Selene is, she hopes she's hiding well.

Kael's palm goes from her waist to her bare back, his fingers a welcome touch to her skin as he strokes her spine.

"Please enjoy yourselves," the Mirkov heir finishes, raising his glass. "Thank you once again, and let the party begin."

Applause rings out.

Catalina whispers to Kael, "The child wasn't in the records."

Her husband keeps his eyes on Cirillo as he engages with his guests. "Just born when she went missing," Kael answers lowly.

Catalina nods, feeling his rigid and stiff muscles once more against her.

He wasn't like this in the Di Angelo mansion.

She rubs her hand against his arm and whispers, "Regretting bringing me?"

He lowers his mouth to her ear but doesn't loosen his hold or tear his eyes away from Cirillo. "Mirkov has been waiting to meet you," Kael starts, lowering his mouth to her ear. "He will take this chance to provoke me. He knows things I would rather not tell you. Whatever he says, do not turn away from me. You can do that once we're out of this city, is that understood?"

Catalina looks at him. Her hands suddenly feel cold. "Will I be safe?"

"Yes." The word is hard and unyielding, his eyes intense. "With me, always."

She grips his fingers. "What about you? The rest of our family?"

He brushes his lips on her temple. "Our war with them, if any, is not here and not now."

Our war. Our family.

Catalina barely notices how those words easily process themselves in her mind.

Kael looks behind him. "We will leave this city without blood on our fucking clothes, understood?"

"Woof," Jae deadpans once again through gritted teeth.

"I quite like this suit," Polo says quietly, staring at Cirillo like he's thinking of dragging him to each circle of hell.

Cirillo hurt Samara. It must be torture for him to stand here and do nothing.

"This color brings out my pretty eyes," Chuck says, winking at Catalina and chewing his gum.

"And this dress is expensive," Merlot says, and her voice surprises Catalina. It still sounds strong and assured, as Merlot always is, but this time, her words sound like she forced them out her throat.

Merlot looks at her reflection from the screen of her phone and puts it down.

After their dispute at the ring, the captain seems back to her old self, treating Catalina like an inconvenient fly. But when Merlot meets her eyes, she immediately turns away with a tight jaw.

Not even a sneer. Huh.

Catalina focuses on the grip of Kael's hand on her waist when Cirillo Mirkov starts walking towards them with a glass in hand, a wide smile on his face.

She steels herself and holds her chin up high.

"Fourth," he greets first and respectfully, holding out his hand. "Incredibly honored to have you and the Kincaid family fly down from Pont-Ciel."

Kael takes it and shakes it once. "For an old friend," he returns, voice smooth and calm. "Happy birthday, Cirillo. My right, left, captain, and Cerberus," he says without turning his head away, and then he looks down at her. "And my beautiful wife, Catalina."

Cirillo looks over at each of them, his eyes staying a split second longer on Merlot. Then when he meets Catalina's gaze, his smile widens, taking her in. "My..."

Catalina, despite the pounding in her chest, gives him her best smile. "Hello Cirillo, and happy birthday. I hope the scotch we brought is to your liking."

Even the Fourth is generous with his gifts.

"Thank you," he says, eyes on hers. "We've met. Was it five years ago at my wedding?"

Catalina is surprised he remembers. His eyes swooped past her when she and the Di Angelo family congratulated him and Selene. "Yes, it was."

Cirillo's eyes shine. "You are stunning. I understand why the Fourth is...taken with you." To Kael, he laughs and says, "It was a pity I received no invitation to the wedding."

Kael smiles and answers, "It was a small family event."

Cirillo waves his free hand dismissively. "I understand, of course." Then, with a sip to his champagne, he comments, "Salvi must be happy expanding his business to Pont-Ciel."

Catalina doesn't let her confusion show.

Her father does not own anything in Pont-Ciel.

But then Aires and Matias said they were there for business—a detail Catalina missed looking into as she was too excited to see them again. Does that mean her father recently acquired something in Kael's territory?

"He is," Kael answers shortly.

Cirillo keeps his easy smile. "Your first year and you've accomplished so much already. I heard about what happened with a certain...unfortunate family. You're busy."

Kael's mouth twitches. "I believe you are too. Can't move along global business without transit."

The Mirkov heir—or acting leader, now—smiles bitterly. "You lost two million's worth of coke, I lost double with my transportation and men."

The explosion at Montford. Polo, Jae, and Kael's trip.

Kael smiles now. "What a pity. Something must've been faulty."

"Indeed," Cirillo says. "You step into the Third's shoes quite nicely, Fourth. We're all wishing you a long reign like his."

Ever so slightly, Kael tenses, his fingers tightening on her back. But easily and calmly, he answers, "Thank you, I appreciate that, Cirillo."

He does not.

"Will you and your family be staying?"

"No. Regrettably, we're leaving after a few more drinks. Pont-Ciel is still adjusting."

They want to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible.

He turns to look at her. "Catalina is welcome to a room here should she want to explore Ilwich a bit more. I promise you that my city is a sight to behold."

Her smile widens. She might have been out of the game for five years, but listening to her mother talk to her father's acquaintances in her years growing up sure does come in handy.

Catalina answers before Kael can, "I'm sure it is. Thank you for the kind offer, but I'll be leaving with my husband. Like Pont-Ciel, I'm still adjusting."

His fingers on her hip squeeze the tiniest bit.

Was that a warning or a praise?

Cirillo nods. "I understand. After five years away, it must be difficult being suddenly married to a ruler."

"It's definitely a work in progress, but I don't mind," she tells him, placing a hand on Kael's chest for good measure.

She feels his heartbeat jump once before his breathing evens.

Cirillo lets out a laugh. It's unsettling, but Catalina maintains her easy disposition.

"Well." His teeth show from how wide his smile is. "The Fourth certainly deserves a proper woman in his family, as I imagine the whore is sleeping uselessly next to the Third's grave, bless his soul. How is she, by the way? I did enjoy a bit of our...fun time together."

Catalina locks her jaw beneath her smile to stop herself from defending her friend.

And oh, God. Polo. She can't turn around to look at him.

"Like you said. Sleeping next to the Third's grave," Kael says shortly.

"Hmm," Cirillo muses. "I guess I could consider it a blessing in disguise the Third passed before fulfilling his promise—a whore's not a woman. Neither are his scraps."

Catalina hides her wince.

Kael smiles the tiniest bit. "From what I recall, you willingly accepted those scraps."

"Like I said, it was fun, Fourth," Cirillo responds, still grinning. Then he sighs and looks at Kael. "After the rather unfortunate passing of both our mothers, it must be delightful to have a beautiful wife waiting at home."

"It is," Kael tells him in his bored tone.

The Mirkov leader smiles again, eyes on Catalina. "I'm jealous. Maybe we shouldn't have taken up the Third on his offer, after all. And I'd have Catalina waiting at home for me instead."

Catalina tilts her head to the side when Kael tenses just the tiniest behind her. "Oh?"

"I gave up on my family, Catalina, after three years of searching for them," Cirillo explains, and then sips his glass. "As the next head, I also need heirs. However, shortly after the Third's funeral, my hope that my wife and child were alive was...rekindled, you can say." He pins her with a stare. "I meant what I said during my speech."

"Of course," Catalina says with sympathy in her voice. "We're sorry about your family. We hope they return home well and safe."

We hope they're far away as possible from you and hiding well.

"Thank you, I do as well." Brighter, he asks, "Will we be expecting the Fifth anytime soon?"

Again, it's Catalina who answers, because he's looking at her. No one recognizes Jae as the Fifth, and Kael wants her on birth control. "We'll see. We have plenty of time."

"Ah, no plans of running away once more?"

Catalina taps Kael's chest and jokingly answers, "It's up to him if he scares me away."

Cirillo grins. "Or kills you like he did his mother."

Catalina's hand stops, but she keeps her smile on her face.

Kael killed his own mother.

"Ah, Cirillo," Kael speaks again quietly, in that chillingly low voice of his that he uses when he's about to drag death in front of someone, "as your mother ended up with a pretty bullet in her head from your gun as well, I wonder why you'd have to be missing a woman's...touch. Perhaps your wife and child found themselves liking a different city a bit more."

Cirillo also killed his own mother.

His fingers make the tiniest move on his glass. They squeeze a little tighter around it. "We're more alike than you think, Fourth. Deaths of our mothers on our hands and devotion to our wives."

"Poorer, older, widow," Kael drawls their differences with an arched eyebrow. "That devotion of yours seems to be futile without a beautiful wife waiting at home."

Cirillo squeezes the glass tighter. Speaks with forced calm, "Salvi had no choice."

Catalina does not understand why her father is in this conversation.

"Perhaps," Kael answers quietly. "And perhaps my wife does not belong with the likes of you and I who murder our own mothers, but she married me regardless."

Cirillo grins. "Catalina would be dead otherwise."

Kael grins as well. "Or worse: married to you. Suffer the same fate as Selene."

The Mirkov leader drops his pleasantries and hisses, "Do not speak my wife's name."

Kael's next words are quiet.

Ruthless.

"Do not speak mine, you are not worthy of it."

Catalina's whole body stills.

Cirillo returns, "And you are?"

In the one second that Kael remains silent, Catalina opens her mouth.

They will be going home without blood on their fucking clothes. Her dress is red enough.

Softly, Catalina says, "Thank you for the compliments, and we wish your father a speedy recovery. Happy birthday, Cirillo."

Cirillo tears his eyes away from Kael to look at her. Still tense, he tersely responds, "Thank you. Enjoy the party. Fourth." He tips his head down in respect and walks away.

At their table, no one moves or speaks for a few seconds.

Until Kael says, quietly, calmly, "We're leaving."

*

#ReignTheFourthWP