All Chapters of The Silence Of His Vows: Chapter 281 - Chapter 290

Killian shoved the hem of my dirty sundress up around my waist in one quick motion. His fingers hooked into my panties, yanking them down my legs and tossing them aside. Cool air hit my already slick pussy, making me shiver."Killian—" I started, but the words died as he parted my thighs wider over his strong legs. One arm banded tight around my lower back to hold me steady. He leaned in and pressed his hot mouth directly between my legs.A loud, shameless moan tore from my throat the second his tongue dragged slowly through my folds. He was messy with it—licking broad, wet stripes up and down my pussy, sucking my swollen clit into his mouth and flicking it fast with the tip of his tongue. Obscene, slick sounds filled the study as he ate me out, his saliva mixing with my wetness, dripping down his chin onto his thighs. He thrust his tongue inside me, fucking me with it in deep, curling strokes, then moved back up to suck hard on my clit while his nose rubbed agains

The suffocating silence stretched on for several long seconds.Viktor did not seem bothered by the murderous aura rolling off his nephew. He leaned back into the leather sofa, keeping his dark eyes fixed on Killian."Twenty years, Killian," Viktor said, his gruff voice breaking the heavy quiet. "Twenty years since your father and brother were put in the ground. The men who pulled the triggers are getting comfortable. They think the Alatorre bloodline has lost its bite."I sat perfectly still, my hands folded tightly in my lap. I didn't know what he is was talking about, but the raw, dark weight of the words made my stomach twist.I risked a small glance up at Killian.His pale gray eyes had gone completely dark. He was staring at his uncle, but he looked distant, pulled back into the violent past Viktor was dragging into the room. For the first time in months, the softness he saved for me was completely gone from his face. He looked like the Butcher—a man consumed by the ghosts of his

Luna stood in the center of the quiet study. The heavy silence of the room pressed against her skin.She took a small step closer to the desk. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly in the dark. "Tell me."Killian did not answer right away. He remained seated in his heavy leather chair, his large hands resting flat against his thighs. The pale gray of his eyes slowly shifted, losing focus on her face and drifting toward the dark, empty corner of the room.He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees."I was fourteen," Killian said. His voice was terrifyingly flat. "My father was the Pakhan. The head of the Russian syndicates. My mother... She was the only thing he loved more than the Bratva. We were supposed to go on a holiday that day."He stopped. The muscle in his jaw feathered under his skin."I had gone back upstairs," he murmured, his voice dropping into a harsh, hollow scrape. "My little sister had forgotten her favorite doll. I went to get it for her."T

A single, low-wattage lamp burned in the far corner of the drawing room, casting long, sharp shadows against the dark oak paneling. The air inside the closed space was thick and gray, smelling heavily of bitter Russian tobacco. Viktor sat deep in a heavy leather armchair. He raised cigarette to his lips and inhaled, the brief glow of the orange cherry catching the thick, brutal scars along his jawline. He exhaled a slow plume of smoke toward the ceiling.Carmina stood a few feet away. Her dark dress blended into the shadows of the room. Her spine was perfectly rigid, her hands clasped so tightly in front of her that her knuckles were entirely white."You have to do something, brother," Carmina said. Her voice cut through the quiet, sharp and tight. "That girl is poisoning his mind."Viktor kept his pale eyes fixed on the frost gathering at the edges of the windowpane. He took another slow drag of his cigarette, the paper crackling faintly in the silence."He humiliates his own blood

I ran toward him blindly. My foot caught the edge of the thick rug, and I tripped, pitching forward toward the hardwood floor.Killian moved fast. He caught me before I could fall, his large hands gripping my waist firmly and pulling me flush against him.“Doll, calm down,” he said, his voice exhausted but steady.My shaking hands hovered over his ruined shirt. I searched his chest frantically. “Are you hurt? Where is it?”“It is not my blood,” he said quickly, catching my wrists. “I am fine.”I took a deep, shuddering breath, my legs weak with relief. I pulled out of his grip and grabbed his hand, leading him straight to the bathroom.Under the bright lights, the blood looked even worse. I reached for the hem of his shirt and gently pulled it over his head, tossing the soaked fabric onto the tiles. We stepped into the large glass shower together. I turned the water on hot, taking a washcloth and wiping the blood from his chest, his arms, and his bruised knuckles. My thin nightgown in