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CHAPTER SIX. ❝ DON'T PLAY WITH A WOMAN , WHO CAN PLAY BETTER ! ❞
I used to be an atheist—until I realized I’m god myself. And I’ve gotta say, I’m damn glad that people fear me. My reputation stretches across New York and now, London, too.
Three days. Three long days since that brat of a King messed with me, and even though my jaw’s healing, the ice packs helping, the bruising on my pride hasn’t faded one bit. If anything, it’s worsened. The memory of that punch, of her standing up to me… it stings more than I care to admit.
That girl really is something else.
I found myself walking the streets of London with Jeremy and Killian. It was late, the moon hanging high in the sky as a few clouds drifted lazily over it. The streets were quieter than usual, a cool breeze brushing past us, carrying the distant sounds of traffic and city life. One of my hands was stuffed deep into the pocket of my leather jacket, while the other lazily worked the cigarette hanging from my lips. I could feel the nicotine dulling my irritation slightly, but not enough to make me forget.
Jeremy was probably thinking about picking up his sister Annika from the nearby stadium, while Killian was—well, Killian. He was busy talking about Glyndon again, probably making some vulgar joke I didn’t care to follow.
I didn’t want to think about it. Hell, I didn’t want to be here, but here I was, walking with them through these London streets like I owned them. And maybe I did. After all, people feared me for a reason.
“You might run into the King girl there, Morozov,” Killian’s smirk was evident in his voice before I even looked his way. He brushed his hand through his hair, his lips quirking up in that irritatingly smug way of his. He knew exactly what he was doing. Exactly which buttons to push.
I clicked my tongue, trying to ignore him. My jaw tightened, my eyes narrowing as I kept walking. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but deep down, I knew he was enjoying this far too much. He had a strange obsession with Aanya, mostly because she never trusted him around her cousin, Glyndon. And she was right not to.
If I had a sister, I wouldn’t trust Killian with her either. Hell, I wouldn’t trust him with any woman. He was the definition of trouble.
“She’s probably gonna throw a few curses at me,” Killian shrugged, his tone light, as if the idea of Aanya’s hatred was just a minor inconvenience to him. He kicked a stone along the pavement, keeping up his usual nonchalance.
Killian was the only one talking. The rest of us were silent, lost in our own thoughts. Jeremy wasn’t even listening to him, probably already focused on seeing Annika. Meanwhile, I was stuck, forced to hear every word Killian said, even if I didn’t want to.
