Rouge: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Tattered Curtain Series)

Lacey

The night is misty with rain, but thanks to the covered flybridge on Kian’s yacht, I only feel the crisp wind on my cheeks as we float over one of the deepest areas in Lake Mead. The storm that started three days ago began to let up sometime last night after Kian came home from his poker game with Monroe. I don’t know what the stakes were, exactly, but Monroe lost, and that’s why we’re here.

Kian’s warmth seeps through my trench coat as he lightly grips my shoulders from behind, and I lean back against his chest. He’s been downstairs helping his men, Lorenzo and Merek, with the details. I stare at the barrel sitting at the edge of the deck and resist shuddering at what we’re about to do next. It needs to be done.

“Thank you… for everything,” I murmur.

“I would do anything for you, tine.”

He kisses me lightly, just above where my bandages were removed this afternoon. The pain is minimal with extra-strength ibuprofen, but he’s still treating me like I’m made of glass. The parts of me that hurt—my arms, neck, throat, back—are appreciative.

But where I ache? I need more.

His smoky, sweet amber scent has driven me crazy ever since I’ve been back in his suite, and yet he refuses to touch me beyond cautious caresses. Now, even the slightest brush of his skin on mine makes me shiver with desire. I plan to end my torture as soon as possible, whether he thinks I’m ready or not.

“Are you in pain?” His voice is full of concern, mistaking my trembling. “You can have the other drugs. It won’t bother me.” He tries to pull away, but I latch on to his forearm—right over his new tattoo—to keep him close.

His question makes me gravitate to the chip in my pocket with my injured hand. He hasn’t asked for it back and I don’t want to give it up, but I feel guilty keeping it.

My decision made, I try to hand it to him.

“Oh no, that’s yours now.” He pushes it away before digging into his own pocket and coming up with an actual poker chip. His arm stays around me as he flips the chip in the air and leans me slightly with him as he reaches to catch it. “Monroe got this one for me. It’s a new chapter. You can keep that one. This will remind me of what’s important just as easily.”

An appreciative grin lifts my lips as I return the chip to my pocket. I squeeze it for good luck before asking the question that’s been on my mind since this morning.

“What happens after tonight?”

“What do you want to happen?” His voice is gentle, but tears spring to my eyes as my fingers try to make a fist around my cast, reminding me of the broken wrist that I was told today may never properly heal, even with surgery.

“I… I want to dance.”

“Feck, Lace.” He strokes my cheek. “Then dance. What’s the point of being in charge if we can’t chase our passion?”

I raise my cast. “But the doctor said—”

“The doctors can feck off. Together, we have more money than God. We’ll get you the best surgeons.”

“But what if that doesn’t work?”

He gives me a pointed look. “I didn’t think my tine could be stopped by the likes of a mere injured wrist. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

My chest feels airy and light with his promise. I hope he’s right, but even if he’s not, I don’t have the energy to fight his resolve, nor do I want to. It’s enough to give me courage for the rest of the night, though, and I hang on to it like a raft.

He must sense it, too, because he cups my cheek and exhales heavily before finally asking.

“Are you ready?”

I nod once. “More than you know.”

His lips quirk up. “Let’s go down, then. Lorenzo and Merek positioned the barrel at the edge for us and promised to give us privacy. They’ll head off in the tender to scout the area and make sure we’re alone on the lake.”

He wraps a soft blanket around my shoulders and over my head to protect me from the rain. As he guides me down the winding, narrow staircase, he reassures me one more time.

“Unless this lake dries completely, the concrete on the bottom of the barrel should bury and secure it in the sediment below.”

“And the rest of the world will think he ran away after almost… almost killing me?”

He grunts his assent. “The Keeper protects many secrets, but the wild ace keeps the worst ones. I know which families have ordered hits on others, and after breaking into Baron Suites, I also know who went after your father. Monroe will disappear and no one will question the narrative we spread because they know that if they do, their own involvement will be exposed. They don’t want to tumble their house of cards or be anywhere near my—or your father’s—wrath.” He smirks at me. “Besides, they’ll learn soon enough that my wee firecracker of a wife is formidable on her own.”

I smile at him and accept his offered hand. By the time we reach the deck, Lorenzo and Merek are already hopping into the small boat that accompanies the yacht. They drive off so quietly that there’s barely any sound or wake in the water. The lights on the tender’s bow and stern flicker the farther away they go until darkness swallows them completely.

It’s just me, Kian, and the soon-to-be dead man.

“Ready?” Kian asks again and I squeeze his hand in answer.

He leads me to the barrel that sits on the edge of the glossy wet deck and removes the metal lid. Inside, Monroe sits scrunched with tape around his hands and over his mouth. His brown eyes are black and shiny in the dark, begging Kian for forgiveness, as if my husband is the only one who has a say in this. Kian has made it clear that I’ll be ruling by his side once my father’s role as Keeper ends. I have no doubt that this is the first of many decisions we’ll make together.

Kian’s voice deepens with cold rage as he gives the monster his final sentence. “Monroe Baron, you attempted to snuff out a fire before we had the chance to kindle it. You nearly extinguished the light in my life before she had the chance to blaze. You’ve tried so hard to be the water to our flame, water will be your end.”

I can barely make out Monroe’s question as he enunciates behind the tape, “Who put the hit out on me?”

“I did.” Kian pulls playing cards out of his suit jacket pocket and reveals his bloody joker card. “I’m the wild ace and this wild card is mine to do with as I please.” His gaze locks onto Monroe’s. “It’s a reward for my service. No reprisals from Garde families, no tipping off any authorities, no grudges. One free kill.” He juts his chin in my direction. “Not only that, but I have the support of my queen of diamonds.”

Monroe tries to swivel away as Kian stuffs the joker and the ace into his breast pocket. My husband then turns to me with the two halves of a worn queen of diamonds card.

“Any last words, tine? Once you use this card, it’ll be played. You’ll no longer have the order over your head.”

My heart pounds in my chest at the sight of the card that was meant for me. I’ve only heard about this part of his job and I certainly never thought I’d be joining in. But I didn’t want to miss this. I’m a McKennon now, and McKennon revenge is exactly what I need to make this right.

I take the card and use the dim light of the moon to analyze the two queens. One wields a sword and the other holds a red camellia.

“You designed this for me, didn’t you?”

Kian nods in my periphery. “The queen of diamonds is also the queen of swords. She’s a compassionate leader and a symbol of change. But she’s ruthless when she needs to be. She’s always been perfect for you.”

The compliment gives me the courage to remove Monroe’s ring from my pocket and step closer to the barrel. He yells angrily at me, but his scorn is lost behind the duct tape. Even on the brink of death, he glares at me with hatred and disrespect. He has no idea that I’m the one who choreographed his last breaths.

After a deep inhale and exhale, I swallow past the pain in my throat and try my best to mask the hoarseness in my voice. I don’t want to let this bastard’s last thoughts be satisfaction that he hurt me.

“You tried to ruin my family. You nearly killed me and you took the life of an innocent solely because your pride was hurt. You are everything that’s wrong with the Garde, and those ideals will die with you. But Kian and I will thrive.”

Despite Monroe fighting against his binding, I tuck both halves of the queen card and his ring into his breast pocket in front of the ace and the joker. As soon as it’s done, Kian begins to ready the diving equipment and hands me the mask. Monroe is so confused by our exchange, he lets me fit the goggles and mouthpiece halfway over his head before he starts to thrash again.

Kian ignores Monroe’s attempts to get free and plops the rebreather onto the man’s bound hands, before tapping the device once.

“This heliox tank will allow you to breathe at greater depths. The lake is deep enough here that an ascent without proper decompression will kill you before you reach the surface. With the low water temperature at the bottom, what winds up killing you will be a contest between hypothermia, pressure changes, the amount of heliox in the tank, and your willpower. I’m betting the last one gives out first.”

Monroe’s eyebrows shoot up at Kian’s wicked grin, but it’s me who gives the final decree.

“Monroe Baron, you isolated me knowing that it would slowly kill me inside. Then you beat me and left me to die. In your final moments, I thought it fitting that you finally learn what it feels like to be trapped.”

When I rip off the tape covering Monroe’s mouth, merciless satisfaction stirs in my chest, sparking what is no doubt a slightly unhinged smile. That, more than anything, seems to scare the shit out of him and he lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Kian uses Monroe’s wide-open mouth to shove the mask the rest of the way over his petrified face and fit the regulator between his lips. He tries to writhe out of the barrel, but his efforts are useless since Merek and Lorenzo cemented him to the bottom.

Once the mask is on properly, I crash the lid on top of Monroe’s head and Kian snaps the latches. Muffled screams reverberate from the tin, but I have faith that Lorenzo and Merek have ensured no help is coming.

With the barrel clasped shut, Kian kicks the edge, toppling it overboard. It bobs for a minute and my heart pounds at the fear that it won’t sink. But as Kian begins to embrace me from behind, Monroe’s screeches grow more frantic and harsh banging slams against the metal as it loses inches to the lake that consumes it.

Once the water starts flooding into the metal, it fills quickly. Soon Monroe’s shrieks become garbled until the lid of the barrel finally dips below the surface and bubbles float and pop in its place. I watch them swell, burst, and swell again, hypnotized by Monroe’s doomed attempt to stay alive.

“This is just the beginning.” Kian’s chin rests on top of my head and I feel it move as he warns me. “Monroe had a lot of families that supported him. Our fathers couldn’t figure out the truth on their own because there were so many people who had the same lie, it was nearly impossible to sort out fact from fiction. We’ll have to decide how to punish the ones that tried to destroy us. I personally want at least a dozen more barrels right beside Monroe’s.”

Power flows through my veins. Whatever I decide, I know Kian will make it happen. He’s proven that he’ll not only go to battle for me, he’ll start wars.

But do I want that?

I bite my lip before shaking my head. “That can’t happen if we want things to change. The way the Garde treats women, its own people, and those they consider beneath them is horrible. I want to change that.”

“Let’s change it, then.”

I glance up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Once the Keeper position falls to us, we won’t stand for the shite that has had family conspiring against family for decades. Snakes like Monroe shouldn’t be able to slip into our house unnoticed. Your father has plenty of secrets to take them all down one by one and cut them off at their knees. I wish we’d sent Monroe’s sister down with him, though. She was a right cunt in all of this. Hell, maybe your mam, too. No offense.”

I follow his glare to the slower-forming bubbles on the water.

“They’re both products of their environment,” I answer, my heart rate increasing at what it will mean when those signs of breathing stop. “My mom got worse while my dad was away. Now that he’s back home, she won’t feel the immense pressure of keeping us alive. And as for Maeve… without a Garde-approved marriage she’ll neither have power nor access to her complete trust fund. For her, that’ll be worse than anything we could ever physically do to her. Power is what they all care about. If we take that away from them they’ll wish they’d died instead.”

He chuckles. “The new era of McKennon revenge. Fates worse than death, catered to the sinner. That’s the kind of punishment I can get behind.”

Quiet settles around us and I face the water again to find the bubbles have disappeared.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” I whisper.

“Depends. He’s hundreds of feet down, so his exhales could be taking a longer time to rise. But his rebreather only has an hour of helium and oxygen, less if he hyperventilates. Hypothermia could get him before that in as quick as thirty minutes if it’s cold enough.”

“And then he’ll be gone,” I whisper.

“If he’s not already.”

My pounding heart slows. We stand in silence while listening to the lake gently lap at the boat. The weight of years of turmoil, stress, and fear drifts away with the current, and I take a full cleansing breath for the first time in ages.