I get that it’s a shock to my family to see me with a woman, but I wish to fuck they’d stop gawping like I’ve got two heads. I adjust the collar of my charcoal Oxford shirt, fighting the urge to loosen another button. My brothers beckon me over to the drinks cabinet for a top up and while I’d rather remain within two feet of Avery at all times, she’s engrossed in a conversation with Ivy, Zara and Scarlett about Ivy and Caelon’s upcoming wedding in the spring.
Avery settles in seamlessly, unsurprisingly. Now and again, her infectious laughter carries across the room. She looks stunning in an emerald dress that brings out the aqua flecks in her eyes. The way she carries herself—confident but warm—makes her belong anywhere she chooses to be.
My brothers, on the other hand, belong in a zoo. They’re behaving like absolute pricks.
‘So, the ice man finally thawed.’ Caelon smirks, handing me a full crystal tumbler of whiskey. ‘Never thought I’d see the day you’d willingly bring a woman home for Christmas.’
‘Fuck off,’ I mutter, taking a deep drink from the glass.
‘Language, darling,’ my mother calls as she re-enters the room with two bottles of champagne. Her superhuman hearing hasn’t diminished with age.
‘She’s good for you,’ James adds, more seriously than Caelon. ‘I haven’t seen you this… present… in years.’
He’s not wrong, which is precisely why I don’t respond. The pre-Avery version of me would have kept his emotional distance today, would have stationed himself by a window to keep watch on the grounds, would have checked in with security every thirty minutes.
I’ve tripled the security detail today—fifteen men on the perimeter, two by the main gate, and three more monitoring the surveillance feeds. The stalker is still out there, and this gathering of the entire Beckett family presents a tempting target. I have my earpiece in to stay connected, though I’m trying not to let Avery see my concern. Today is for her, for us. She wanted a memorable Christmas, and I’m determined she’s going to have one.
The heavy door swings open again, and my father strides into the room. Alexander Beckett is six-foot-four of imposing authority, even at his age. His steel-grey hair is immaculately styled, his posture military-straight.
The room shifts subtly as he enters—everyone sitting a little taller, conversations pausing briefly before resuming. His eyes find Avery immediately, assessing her in the same calculating manner he sizes up everyone he meets. I feel my shoulders tense involuntarily. At the wedding, they’d exchanged mere pleasantries. This is different.
‘So,’ he says, his deep rich voice booming across the room as he approaches her. ‘This is the young woman who’s managed to accomplish what none of us could.’
Avery turns, her smile faltering slightly under his scrutiny. ‘Sir?’
‘Getting my most stubborn son to join a family gathering without having to be physically dragged here.’ His face remains impassive for a beat, then cracks into a rare smile. ‘Merry Christmas, my dear. So glad you could join us.’
‘Merry Christmas.’ Avery’s cheeks colour in a rare blush.
‘Alex, will you open this champagne?’ My mother brandishes the bottles.
‘Certainly, my love.’ My father rushes to help like a knight in shining armour. It’s Beckett family tradition to give the staff Christmas Day off every year. It’s the one day my mother gets to fuss over us all herself and she absolutely loves it.
Avery watches as my father kisses my mother and relieves her of one of the bottles. Something like awe flashes in her eyes.
I get it. Even after forty years of marriage, it’s impossible to miss the love between my parents. Growing up, it was gross. Now it’s… reassuring.
Avery slopes over to me with a look in her eyes that I’ve seen a hundred times over the past few weeks. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip, and I’d bet my life she’s thinking something filthy. Before I have the chance to ask, Rian pushes his way between us with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
‘Avery,’ he purrs, leaning in to kiss her cheek, his lips lingering a fraction longer than necessary. ‘That dress is absolutely criminal. I thought my brother had better manners than to upstage the rest of us by bringing the most gorgeous woman in Dublin to Christmas lunch.’
My jaw clenches as he places his hand on the small of her back, invading the space that’s explicitly mine. ‘Did it ever occur to you to bring a woman of your own to Christmas lunch? God knows you’ve had enough of them—women, I mean, not lunches.’
Rian winces but recovers quickly. ‘Looks like you found a sense of humour along with your other emotions.’
What’s going on with him? Out of all my brothers, he loves to party, but today, he has an edge to him. Like he’s not drinking for fun, but perhaps to forget. I should know, I’ve done it often enough myself over the years.
‘The Luxor Lounge isn’t the same without you,’ he continues, oblivious to—or more likely, enjoying—my darkening expression. ‘We need to reschedule your guest appearance.’
‘Rian,’ I warn, the word coming out like a growl. He’s well aware of Avery’s retirement from her glamour days. Zack Kiel splashed her resignation all over the press after our conversation a few weeks ago.
Avery shoots me an amused glance over her shoulder before turning back to my youngest brother. ‘I’m retired from that particular stage, but thanks for the offer.’
‘Pity.’ Rian sighs dramatically, reaching out to touch Avery’s bicep. ‘Why are all the best women taken?’
I take a deliberate step forward, inserting myself between my brother and my girlfriend.
‘Touch her again,’ I say quietly, for his ears only, ‘and you’ll need a new hand.’
His laugh is bright and entirely untroubled. ‘There’s the Killian we know and love.’ He winks at Avery. ‘I was beginning to worry he’d gone soft.’
Avery’s eyes twinkle as she slips her arm through mine. ‘He’s not soft where it matters.’
‘Boys,’ Mother calls from across the room. ‘Dinner’s nearly ready. Behave yourselves.’
Rian saunters away. Avery stretches on her tiptoes to whisper into my ear. ‘He’s doing it on purpose, you know.’
I do know.
I press my lips to her temple. ‘Doesn’t mean I won’t kill him before dessert.’
‘Did you get that, by the way?’ Her eyes narrow. ‘All the best ones are taken.’
I didn’t get it, and I never normally miss anything, but she’s right. It explains his weird behaviour. It would seem that my littlest brother is in love with someone he can’t have. But who?
Before I have time to ponder it, the twenty-foot Christmas tree blinks into darkness, thousands of twinkling lights extinguished in an instant. The subtle background music—cuts off mid-note, plunging the room into an unnatural silence. The atmosphere shifts.
James and I lock eyes. He’s the only one here who understands the significance. The Beckett estate’s power system has triple redundancy. The backup generator is supposed to kick in within three seconds of mains power failing. It didn’t. Which means someone deliberately disabled it.
My earpiece crackles to life.
‘Boss, we have a problem.’ Sterling’s voice rings loud and clear. ‘It’s Thomson. He’s been taken out.’
