I check my phone to see if Liam returned my message, but there’s nothing. Letting out a sigh, I frown at the cards in my hand.
I suck at this. I need to Google how to play poker.
“One thousand,” Declan says with triumph in his voice. He throws the chips into the pile between us.
My eyes narrow on his face, trying to figure out if he’s bluffing.
I tilt my head, and faking a sigh, I throw double the chips into the pile. “Aaand I raise you one thousand.”
His eyes flick to my face, the left one twitching.
Gotcha.
Declan tries to stare me down, but I hold his gaze. “You’re bluffin’.”
I shrug, then nod at the pile. “Give me your money, sucker.”
The elevator doors open, and my eyes snap to the foyer. The air wooshes from my lungs, and throwing the cards down, I dart to my feet. Running to Liam, I’m horrified at the blood above his temple, the disarray of his clothes, and the limp he’s walking with.
“What happened?” I gasp as I grab his arm, my other hand and eyes searching his body for any wounds.
“Just took a dive,” he grins at me. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” I snap. When my hand slides down to his wrist, he flinches, pulling away from me. “Liam?”
I take in the swelling around his wrist, the broken skin on his knuckles. My eyebrows draw together as my eyes meet his.
The grin doesn’t leave his face. “I just sprained it.” He tips his chin at Declan.
“Everything okay?” Declan asks as he shrugs on his jacket.
“Yeah. It’s over.”
Confused, I watch as Declan leaves, then turn my gaze on Liam. “What’s over?”
He lifts his good hand to the side of my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “Finn’s dead.”
The words shudder through me, the news hitting so hard, I stagger a step back. Liam tightens his grip on me, and tilting his head, he says, “I killed him.”
Finn’s dead.
Again the wave hits, my lips parting, but no words coming out.
Finn’s dead.
Liam’s mouth curves into a tender smile. “He’ll never hurt you again.”
Slowly my hands lift to cover my mouth. Intense relief fills me, making tears push up my throat.
Liam tugs me against his chest, and I notice the droplets of blood staining his shirt. My arms fly around his neck, and I press myself against him.
It takes me a couple of minutes of processing the news before I whisper, “Tell me he suffered.”
“He died bloody,” Liam replies, his tone unforgiving and brutal.
Pulling back, I gently take hold of Liam’s right hand. “You beat him?”
He nods, tilting his head to look at me as I brush a finger softly over the back of his hand.
It’s over.
“Chicago is safe,” I whisper.
Liam protected his city.
“And you,” he adds.
Lifting my head, I meet his eyes again. “And me.”
Tugging him to the stairs, I pull him to our bedroom. “Sit on the bed.” Liam listens, his eyes following me as I go to the bathroom. I wet a towel and squeeze out the excess water.
Walking back into the room, I kneel by Liam’s feet, and gently start to clean the cuts on his knuckles.
“Are you sure it’s just sprained?” I ask, not liking the swelling around his wrist.
“Yeah. It will heal in a couple of days,” he murmurs, his eyes watching me closely.
He’s waiting for me to break down.
Reaching up, I clean the blood from his temple and the dust coating his skin.
“And your men? They’re okay?” I ask.
Liam nods. “We didn’t lose anyone.”
Good.
Sitting back on my haunches, I stare up at him. “I’m not going to break down.”
His eyes search my face. “It’s over, baby.”
I place my hands on his knees, and pushing up, I press a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you.”
Liam wraps a hand around the back of my neck, and keeping me in place, his mouth crushes against mine. The kiss is different. I taste the revenge he got for us on his tongue. I feel the residual anger in the wildness of his lips on mine.
When Liam breaks the kiss, I’m breathless. Our eyes lock, and we stare at each other.
This man.
He’s my entire world.
My guardian angel.
I drink in his handsome features, the ruggedness from who he really is, giving him an edge.
My avenging angel.
“Food?” I ask.
A smile stretches over his face. “Yeah, let’s get some comfort food in you.”
After I made us grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, I’m snuggled against Liam’s side, holding an icepack to his wrist.
He lets out a relieved breath, then his mouth curves up in a brutal smile.
“What?” I ask, adjusting the icepack.
“Just relishing in Finn’s last moments.” He leans his head against the back of the couch. “And I’m finally rid of the Sicilians.”
I press a kiss to his jaw. “My badass man.”
His smile turns tender, his eyes filling with love. “My soon-to-be wife.” He flexes his fingers. “You need to plan the wedding. I’m not waiting long to marry you.”
Setting the icepack down, I gently place his hand on his lap, careful not to jar it. “How long do I have?”
A playful grin tugs at his lips. “A month too soon?”
My eyebrows fly up. “Are you serious?”
“Woman, I’d drag you to a court on Monday if I had my way.”
“Okay then.” Reaching for my phone on the table, I pull up a calendar. “November… twelve?”
Liam checks the calendar, then nods. “Works for me.”
“What kind of wedding?” I ask, setting the device down and getting comfortable.
He lifts his left hand and tucks a couple of strands behind my ear. “I want your hair down.”
“Okay.” When he doesn’t say anything else, I ask, “That’s it? You have nothing to contribute?”
“I’ll pay, you plan.”
Chuckling, I nod. “Okay, but if we have a black wedding, don’t get angry.”
“Definitely not black. I want you in white.”
“Can we have it at the same church we had the service for Dad?”
He nods. “I’d like that.”
I snuggle closer and resting my head on his shoulder, I let out another relieved breath and close my eyes.
No more Finn.
No more Sicilians.
“What happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
I move, resting my chin on his shoulder. “You’ve dealt with your enemies. What now?”
“Work. I have a fuck ton to catch up on.” He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “And I have to make arrangements for our honeymoon.”
Excitement sparks to life in my chest. “Where?”
“Bali. I think you’d love it.”
Grinning at him, I tease, “On second thought, let’s do the court thing on Monday.”
He shakes his head. “I want you walking down the aisle.”
Suddenly it occurs to me that Liam killing Finn can’t possibly go down well with his family. Worry creases my forehead. “What about your dad? Won’t he be upset that you killed Finn?”
Liam’s features tighten. “I really don’t give a fuck how he feels.” Shaking his head, he adds, “I’ve disowned him. The only family I have is you, my men, and my uncle.”
“Will your uncle come to the wedding?”
“Yeah, Cillian will be there.”
We fall silent, just happy to be close to each other. After a while, Liam murmurs, “You haven’t used the credit card I gave you.”
“Honestly, I forgot I had it.” I tilt my head back to look up at him. “You want it back?”
“No, it’s yours. Please use it. For whatever you need. For the wedding.” He gestures around the penthouse. “Whatever you want.”
I straighten up again, then say, “What’s the limit for the wedding?”
Liam rolls his head, looking at me. “There’s no limit.”
Frowning, I shake my head. “You have to give me a limit. I don’t want to spend a thousand dollars on flowers and get in trouble.”
Slowly his mouth curves into a hot smirk. “Baby, if you don’t spend at least a hundred thousand dollars a month, you’ll be in trouble.”
My eyes widen at the amount. Liam leans closer, pressing a kiss to my throat. “So much fucking trouble.”
When he starts to push me down onto the couch, I protest, “Your wrist.”
“Not the body part I need to fuck you with.”
