12

"I'm not your private chef! Next time order something from a friggin' delivery service and let me do my work!" she snapped at him. Killian chuckled to himself. Her freckled nose always wiggled when she was angry. Still, he didn't make the mistake not taking her words seriously.

"I thought your employment contract said cook."

"My contract of employment says don't bother me or you'll put rat poison in your next meal!" Killian didn't elaborate on the fact that she was basically agreeing to cook for him again. In any case, she wasn't entirely wrong. Her job was to prepare snacks and, if necessary, a quick cup of tea for his guests. While she was just as good at complicated things, she was always disgruntled as soon as he ordered them from her - or one of the guests.

"Ok. Has arrived. Thanks anyway," he said, raising his hands reassuringly as her scowl returned to him.

"Don't you eat it! The child needs something on its ribs!" the woman exclaimed bitterly, before she walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind her with a bang. Killian winced inwardly. It was always a pleasure for him to close with her. Most of the time it was exhausting, but most of the time it put a grin on his face. Her nose was just too cute.

But today he stopped laughing before it could set on his lips, because Samantha came out of the bathroom freshly showered. Killian drew in a sharp breath. She was still wearing that shirt she had stolen from him the night before. However, it clung to her torso like a second skin and he really didn't have to look that closely to notice the soft pink breast tips that showed through the damp fabric quite well. He quickly turned his head away and set about arranging what little his kitchen had on the table in such a way that it looked like a breakfast looked like.

"I'll tell Thomas to get you something from your room, you can't walk around in my shirts forever," he said, trying to get that weight off his shoulders that was weighing him down. And not to put his hand out to her and doing something that wasn't right at all.” She nodded as she sat down and Killian thought for a moment that she hadn't understood what he was saying.

Suddenly he saw the tears. Small, silent tears rolled down her cheeks and her otherwise beautiful, clear, blue eyes reddened at the memory of the home she had lost. He couldn't take that grief from her, the only thing he could do was hold her while she suffered through this torment. He got up, went to her on the other side of the table and pulled her sideways to his upper body. Immediately, her sniffles cut through the morning silence and Killian struggled to support her body while she shook with tears. The seizure lasted only a few minutes, then Samantha pulled herself together and broke away from her brother.

"Are you okay?" he asked and Sam nodded completely automatically. He knew this automatism about her and didn't believe this stupid answer for a second. Of course, she wasn't feeling well and that would stay like that for quite a while. He could for even asking her that, but her tears had always been his Achilles' heel.

He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to her feet before hugging her with both arms. She was so much smaller than him. Her head rested at the perfect angle against the hollow of his neck and when he bowed his head he could smell the wonderful floral scent of her hair. She began to cry again, which he acknowledged with a tender rubbing of her spine.

"Shhhhh. I know it hurts, but she will never have to suffer again." He firmly believed that. Her life had been full of cruelty. She had never been able to break free and now she was finally free.

Samantha buried her hands in the fabric of his chest and looked up at him with teary eyes, which he took as an invitation and he stroked her face with her hand. She had bitten her lip dozens of times to quell the grief and her sweet mouth looked so deliciously swollen as if she had been kissed into oblivion. As if he had kissed her unconscious. Killian quickly dismissed the thought. At least he wanted to, but then she licked her lips and he lost control.

His hand slid down the back of her neck, cupping her silky hair and he was about to force his lips onto hers, but Samantha got there first and planted a loving kiss on his jaw.

"I honestly don't know what I would do without you, Killian. You're wonderful," she exclaimed and brought her brother back to reality. He left his hand where it was, enjoyed the warmth of her body and swallowed his own grief. He couldn't deny it: he grieved for his mother. However, he was more uncomfortable with his sister's tears, which he had almost allowed himself to be hypnotized by.

Not correct. So wrong. And yet nothing felt righter than in this moment. At least until his cell phone loudly demanded his attention. Samantha let go of him, sat back down at the breakfast table and smiled at him understandingly. He apologized anyway, ran his hands through her hair and grabbed his phone without looking at the screen first. If only he had done it better.

"Hey babe. I just found out. I'm so, so, so sorry. I hope you don't have too many problems because of this. How are you?" asked Viktoria's bubbly, feverish voice. He whispered a curse under his breath and fled to the other corner of the room, smartphone in hand, so Samantha wouldn't notice.

"All right, don't worry. I just need a moment to myself," he replied, trying to prevent this woman from stepping foot into his club and living in Samantha's home. He wasn't ready to fully reveal his secrets.

"Of course, babe," she continued trilling happily, "Would you like me to get you something, right Samantha? I'm sure she could use a good friend right now." Nice try.

"No. Just give me a little time to get some things straightened out. Then I'll be completely at your disposal again." He. Only him. She shouldn't dare dig her finely manicured fingernails into Samantha.

"Of course. I understand that. Until then babe, I love you." She said the last sentence with a certain pressure in her voice that made him realize where he belonged. He felt like a leash had been put around his neck. Which was kind of the case. He gave a murmur of agreement and quickly ended the conversation.