Beautifully Cruel (Beautifully Cruel #1)(90)

Also inside the bag is my photo ID. The real one.

Because although Mrs. Ruby Diamond is a lovely name, she never applied to take the Massachusetts bar exam, so she’s shit out of luck.

Everyone else in the room looks as nervous as I feel.

Six hours later, we all look nauseated. Brain dead, to boot.

I’m sure I failed, but at least I kept my promise to my mother.

I get my phone unlocked and drop the secure case into the bin on a desk near the door, then head out of the meeting room. I turn left toward the elevators that will take me to the parking garage, but stop dead in my tracks when I spot a man leaning against a nearby wall.

His head is tilted back. His massive tattooed arms are folded over his chest. One booted foot is kicked up against the wall. In jeans and a white T-shirt, he’s the picture of casual cool. Like James Dean on steroids.

He’s wearing mirrored sunglasses, so I can’t tell if his eyes are closed, but if I could see them, I’d know their exact color.

Smiling, I walk over to meet him. “Hi, Killian.”

He turns his head in my direction and sighs. “I can’t tell you how disappointing it is that you always recognize me on sight. Nobody can tell us apart.”

His Irish brogue is intact. I want to ask him to do an Australian accent for me, but get distracted. “Why is it disappointing?”

His smile is lazy. A dimple flashes in his cheek. He pushes the sunglasses up to the top of his head and gazes at me through half-lowered lids, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I keep hoping you’ll throw your arms around me and give me a kiss.”

“No, you don’t. You’re just trying to be charming.”

He scoffs. “Trying? There’s no trying, lass.

I laugh. “Oh, look, the ego runs in the family.”

He pushes off the wall. Towering over me, he gazes down at me and smiles. “Aye. We’re a couple of strutting peacocks, and that’s a fact. You can’t blame us, though.” He makes spokesmodel hands at his body. “Just look at all this fancy plumage. All the other cocks are so jealous their teeth are falling out.”

A young guy walks past, shooting Killian an envious look before puffing out his chest and moving on.

Seeing him, Killian’s grin grows wider.

I roll my eyes. “You paid that guy, didn’t you?”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Happens a dozen times a day, lass. How’d the test go?”

“Ugh. Shoot me.”

“I’m afraid my brother wouldn’t like that. You know he’s quite fond of you.”

“Fond?”

He nods solemnly. “You’ve grown on him. Like mold.”

I laugh again, because he’s so ridiculous I can’t help it. “Good to know. Moving on. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“You didn’t think Liam would let you roam around Boston without an escort, did you?”

“I haven’t been roaming—wait.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I got here two nights ago. Have you been watching me this whole time?”

“Watching you?” He grimaces. “Don’t make it sound so pervy.”

“I take it that’s a yes.”

He gazes at me for a beat. I can tell he’s trying not to grin.

“Were you operating under the mistaken impression that my brother isn’t insanely protective of you? That he doesn’t lose his mind when you’re out of his sight for more than sixty seconds? That allowing you to leave your little love nest—”

“Allowing?” I snort. He ignores me.

“—didn’t give him nightmares, high blood pressure, and send him into caveman possessive mode? Because it did.”

“Actually, you would’ve been very proud of him. He handled it very well.”

Killian chuckles. “That’s what you think.”

Men.

“So how’s the mafia gig going? Are you enjoying being in charge of an international criminal empire as much as you thought you would be?”

He takes my hand and links it through his bent arm, leading me toward the elevators in an unhurried stroll.

“I’m loving it. Thanks for asking.” He laughs. “But Liam collected a long list of enemies. Everyone keeps trying to kill me! There’s one in particular, a young Latino kid who absolutely has it out for me. In the past month, he’s shot at me, booby-trapped a car he thought was mine, and attempted to plant a homemade bomb outside a restaurant Liam owns. Excuse me—I own.”

Oh no. My stomach sinks.

We reach the elevator bank. Killian hits the call button and continues.

“Lucky for me, he’s a terrible assassin. Absolute shite. It’s comical, really. I keep letting him go to see what he’ll try next. It’s become something of a gag for the bodyguards. I asked Liam about him, but he swears he doesn’t know why this kid wants to murder him so badly.”

“Um. Would you do me a favor, Killian?”

He looks at me curiously.

“Would you please not hurt him? He’s a friend of mine. Was a friend.” I clear my throat. “We worked together for a few years.”

After a moment where he stares at me, startled, Killian starts to laugh. “Ho! It’s a love triangle, is it?”

I say flatly, “Don’t be annoying.”