Mila POV
Killian Knight had a presence about him. Even as he walked lazily toward us, it felt as though the very air surrounding him was his domain. His aura dared you to challenge his authority—or look away from him.
"He's hot!" Nicolai muttered under his breath. "He's married," Franny reminded him.
"So what? Doesn't mean I don't have eyes."
I rolled my eyes at Nicolai. Mr. Knight hang his glasses on the neck line of his shirt and he greeted my father. I instinctively stepped back, away from his line of sight. Father introduced Adeline first, then Nicolai, and finally Franny. Killian nodded in acknowledgment, his actions polite, graceful, and measured. Something crackled in the air, and my gaze moved to his on its own accord. My hand twitched with an unnamed urge, and I quickly shoved it into my pocket, confused. My heart was thundering in my chest. Was it fear? I reminded myself that our families had shared generations of friendship. I was just as safe here as in my own home—or so I told myself. I'd always lived this way, constantly questioning. What was there to be scared of now? I wasn't one to back away from challenges, but I had to keep my stance neutral.
"And who is this?" That deep, sophisticated voice caressed the air as it directed a question toward me.
"This is Mila," my father answered simply and quickly. His indifference was nothing new to me, but I'd thought—perhaps hoped—that in some corner of his heart, there might be an obligation to pretend otherwise.
"Mila," Killian repeated, a smile gracing his lips as he stepped aside, his gaze fixing on me with unnerving precision.
"Your eldest." The glint in his eyes reminded me of a black panther. A jolt of something ran through me, and the air seemed to thin. Mistaking my reaction for fear, I tried to suppress the rush of emotions as he extended his hand toward me.
"It's a sweet name," he said. Without much thought, I slid my hand into his. His touch was surprisingly warm—the kind of warmth you feel sitting by a fire during a snowstorm. Close enough to savor the heat but wary of the burn. My breath hitched as his large, rough hand enclosed mine, making my own feel small. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, one I struggled to suppress. My heart raced, and an unfamiliar undercurrent climbed through my nerves. Meeting his eyes again, I gave this feeling a name. It wasn't fear. It was desire.
"Shall we?" Kate's voice broke the spell, and my head snapped toward her. Hell. What was I doing? I withdrew my hand quickly.
"Yes, we shall." A casual smile lingered on Killian's lips as he stepped aside. "This way, Princess," he murmured, so low I wasn't sure I'd heard it right.
Kate and the others were already several steps ahead, but Killian walked right beside me. I schooled my expression, but it was difficult to ignore him when I was so hyper-aware of his every move.
"Nina will show you to your rooms. Once you're settled, I'll give you a tour," Kate said.
I didn't stop or turn to acknowledge her as Nina, the head of the staff, led us. At the foot of the stairs, Killian halted, and I caught the faint trace of perfume.
My pace quickened.
"Killian, sweetie," a voice called from behind. D*mn it. What was I thinking? He's married.
Killian POV
I am bewitched. Mila Anderson cannot be human and real at the same time. Those sea-green siren eyes were meant to drown every soul they landed on. Her dark red hair cascaded to her waist, and the ripped jeans hugged her curves so perfectly it was almost criminal. She clutched the straps of her messenger bag as if her life depended on it, standing behind her family with her shoulders hunched. But when her eyelids fluttered and her gaze met mine—she had me, right then and there.
Anderson had never brought his entire family with him before. I've met his wife and his stepson, who seems to be his shadow. But I've never met his daughters. I've only caught a glimpse of the youngest once. This one must be the eldest.
After a polite greeting, I finally turned my attention to the object of my interest. Mila. The moment her hand slipped into mine, I knew there was no going back. The current that surged through me wasn't just attraction or desire—it was something much deeper. Something undeniable. As Nina showed our guests to their rooms, Mila lingered, trailing behind the others. Halfway up the staircase, she stopped. It would have been too obvious if I followed her, but resisting the pull was d*mn near impossible. I stayed rooted at the foot of the stairs, my eyes locked on her. She turned slightly, just enough for the corner of her eye to catch mine. I smiled. She hesitated, almost turning fully toward me, as though she could feel the electric charge between us, pulsing, connecting her to me.
"Killian, sweetie," Kate's voice cut through the moment like a knife.
Mila jumped and bolted up the stairs.
"D*mn you, Katherine," I muttered under my breath. I stalked into the kitchen, where Kate leaned against the counter, watching me warily. Her expression told me she knew exactly what was going through my mind.
"If someone saw you looking at her like that, it wouldn't end well," she said, her tone cautious but laced with apology.
I folded my arms and tilted my head, smirking. "And how exactly am I looking at her?"
"Like you're going to devour her," she shot back bluntly.
"I don't need a reminder of what I can or can't do," I said, my voice sharp.
Kate hesitated before continuing. "She's Anderson's daughter. She's young. Innocent. Don't seduce her. That wouldn't be... prudent."
"Are you trying to be my wife now?" I arched an eyebrow, my tone challenging. She flinched, unable to meet my gaze.
"I have no desire to be," she muttered, shaking her head.
I pulled out a chair, the legs scraping noisily against the floor as I sat down.
The sound made her flinch again, but only for a moment. She straightened, likely reminding herself of her place. Kate was one of the best in my organization. She couldn't afford to show weakness. "I'm your friend, Killian," she said carefully.
"This could turn into a disaster. Find someone else for your amusement."
I leaned back, and her shoulders visibly relaxed. "You're misunderstanding my intentions," I said, my tone deceptively calm.
Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? You're serious about her? You just met her!"
I sighed, leaning forward lazily. "Kate." My voice was soft, but the warning was unmistakable. "Don't forget who I am." Her expression shifted instantly. Her posture straightened, the same way all my shadows do in my presence—alert, ready, and obedient.
"Yes, sir," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I stood, and she stepped aside instinctively. "Don't interrupt me again," I said as I walked past her. She gave a sharp nod, and I left without another word. .