A Vow Of Hate

“Again?” he asked.

“Again,” I breathed.

Hours later, I laid in his arms, sated and feeling more at peace than ever. “What do you want for dinner?” Killian asked, running his fingers through my hair.

“I’m craving guavas,” I mumbled, scrolling through my phone.

“You can’t have guavas for dinner, Julianna. Dessert and as a treat, yes. Not dinner.”

I rolled my eyes. “Says who.”

“Says me.”

“Bossy much.”

His hand tightened around my hips. “You like me bossy.”

Oh yeah, I definitely did.

I didn’t usually check the news, but since Bishop was still missing, I made it a habit of checking the news and my social media a few times a day. To see if there were any updates about Bishop Romano.

My eyes widened and I sat forward when I saw the headline for the top news.

WAS IT SUICIDE? BISHOP ROMANO FOUND DEAD!

“Killian,” I gasped. I felt him move behind me, looking over my shoulder as I opened the article. My eyes quickly darted over the words.

Bishop Romano was found dead – hanging from a ceiling fan – in an apartment, which the FBI assumed was his hideout. After autopsy, they found that he had been injected with something lethal. While it was possible that he was murdered, after further investigation, his death has been filed under suicide.

I shook with relief, my breathing coming out in short gasps and my chest tightened.

The last sentence of the article glared back at me and I read over it again. Is it possible that Bishop Romano felt cornered and he knew that he was running out of time? So instead of surrendering, he decided to end his own life?

No, I refused to believe that.

Bishop Romano was cruel and vindictive. Yes, it was true that he would never surrender, but I also knew he would never take his own life, choosing the easy way out of this situation.

I dropped my phone on my lap and turned to face Killian. I watched his cool and composed expression, carefully assessing my husband. He didn’t even acknowledge the fact that our enemy was found dead. His face was impassive, not at all surprised after reading the article. Almost like he already knew…

I straddled him, my arms curling around his neck. Our foreheads touched and I breathed in his musky and spicy scent. Unique. Manly and mine.

“Are you behind this?” I didn’t beat around the bush. After all, I already had my answer. I just wanted him to confirm it.

“No,” he deadpanned, without any emotions.

Killian was a good liar, but I found the truth in his eyes.

He lied, while his hands were tainted with blood.

He killed to protect me and our baby.

EPILOGUE

Killian

Six months later

I walked out of the bathroom with a wet cloth in my hand. Julianna was sprawled in bed, where I had left her, naked and smiling. Her hand was rubbing her pregnant belly and I found myself smiling at the sight.

Julianna was ten days past her due date and we had been impatiently waiting for the arrival of our first child. But it appeared that our son was in no hurry to leave his mother’s womb just yet.

“He’s already like you. Stubborn and doing things his way,” Julianna had said to me the night before. Well, if my son was anything like me, Julianna was in for a ride.

Though I didn’t doubt for a second that she would be the perfect mother to our children. Patient. Kind. Gentle. Understanding.

With a knee on the mattress, I leaned forward and pressed the warm cloth between her thighs, wiping away my seed.

Julianna hummed in response and her eyes fluttered close. “Tired?”

She let out a big yawn in response. “I’m really sore.”

My lips twitched. My wife was insatiable during her pregnancy. Julianna wanted sex all the time and she didn’t care where it was or if it wasn’t an appropriate time to attack her husband.

Like yesterday, she had straddled me, bouncing up and down on my cock while I was on the phone with my father. Not that I was complaining.

I guessed we were making up for lost time – three very long years.

After making sure she was clean, I threw the cloth into our laundry basket and then brought her the plate of guavas, honey and whip cream she had asked for.

Weird pregnancy cravings.

I wasn’t sure how that would taste, but I didn’t question her choice.

I was about to pass Julianna the plate when her face twisted. Her body tightened and then she gasped. “Oh, no.”

My eyes darted between her legs, finding a wet spot. Julianna flushed, her eyes growing wide and she sat there, appalled.

I acted on instinct, as I bent forward and lifted her off the bed.

“It’s okay,” I soothed, gathering her in my arms. “Let’s get you in the tub and I’ll change the bedsheets.”

“Wait,” she said softly. “I don’t think I peed the bed.