6

Killian kept his word. He took her to the door, said goodbye in brief words and told her to lock the door carefully while he was gone. A hint that Samantha dismissed exactly three seconds after his disappearance and let the door slam shut behind her with a snort.

The apartment that presented itself to her was a typical bachelor pad, which strictly speaking consisted of only one room, which was given something like elegance by modern room dividers. Not much had changed since her last visit. While the bed was in one corner and a small seating area including a television right next to it, the other part of the apartment was still where there were still rice mats on the floor in meticulous order and a punching bag hanging in the middle. Samantha wasn't even sure exactly how many martial arts her brother knew, but she knew that he could be deadly, deadly even without weapons, so she was surprised to actually find firearms of all kinds lining the walls of the training area.

But she decided at the same moment to dismiss them as decoration and not to think any further about what the blood on Dominik's skin meant. Perhaps it was foolish and naïve for her to turn a blind eye to what she had suspected all along since opening this club: her brother was involved in criminal affairs that were anything but right. But she didn't care. Killian was her brother and he was the only thing she had in the whole world.

He could be a serial killer and Sam would still stand by his side. Blood would always be thicker than water to her. With a mixture of tiredness and the effects of the alcohol, Samantha collapsed onto the huge bed, hugged the soft covers to her chest, sucked in her brother's uniquely masculine scent and then stared at the ceiling.

This was the nicest thing about the whole apartment. A huge glass window that allowed a perfectly clear view of her hometown's night sky. Sam reached out for the huge silver sphere that dominated the sky at this hour and smiled, remembering how Killian had once told her her hair looked like liquid moonlight. He kept saying such cute things to her. Beautiful words, which revealed a glimpse of a man other people would never see.

For as long as she could remember, he had always been tough, unyielding, and almost cruel around other people. But he showed her that he was more than just a cold businessman. He was kind to her, sensitive and everything a girl her age would want in a man. He was just Killian.

She hugged his duvet tighter to her chest and then realized too late that she had forgotten something crucial. She hadn't brought any spare clothes. Cursing softly, Sam rolled off the mattress, dragged himself wearily to the dark wardrobe and pulled one of Killian's neatly folded shirts out of a drawer. Unlike her, he had always been very orderly. Even if it obviously didn't suit a man like him, it was only a logical consequence considering that he had practically raised her. He had made her lunch and packed her satchel. He had combed her hair when her mother forgot one more time and made sure that she was in her classroom on time. Order, control and self-discipline had been a prerequisite for this. She sniffed the shirt before contentedly laying it on the already rumpled bed and getting rid of her own things.

She put her jeans and t-shirt together with her bra on the seat of a modern armchair and then pulled the much too large shirt over her bare skin when, at that very moment, there was a knock on the door. Hesitant but not a bit afraid this was Killian's club after all, she walked towards the door and opened it a crack. In front of her stood Veronika, who looked at Samantha with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

"Oh." She uttered curtly, nervously tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She had touched up her makeup and Sam could have sworn the dress she was wearing was a tad shorter, than what she was wearing when she arrived. And a lot more outspoken. Samantha had to admit that the brunette had a strikingly beautiful figure, with luscious curves, and more bust than her delicate physique allowed for.

She was slightly taller than Samantha - which is because of those dizzyingly high heels she wore on her slender feet. She wore a coy smile that didn't seem typical or natural. On the contrary, her chocolate-colored eyes even sparkled with anger.

Was she upset that Sam was now basically screwing up the tour for her? If so, Samantha would be making fun of teasing her.

"Killian isn't around and if he is, I'm sure he'll be . . . busy with me." She let the theatrical pause sink in and sucked her lips between her teeth to emphasize the wicked undertone.

What her brother didn't know: She was also very good at keeping potential girlfriends away from him. You only had to unsettle them enough to make them run away on their own. And nothing unsettled a woman more than a little sister, who clung to her brother and came almost forbidden close to him.

To reinforce this impression, Samantha leaned against the door frame and presented her outfit. It must have been strange to see your lover's little sister in a would-be lover's attire. Certainly. And Samantha wasn't ashamed of it for a second. For years she had heard from friends and acquaintances, directly or indirectly, that she and Killian were unnaturally close, even for siblings. There had been tons of mean rumors in her old school, all of which boiled down to the same charge: incest, incest, and everything in between.

And in all imaginable variants. One said Killian was forcing it on her, the next said she had seduced her brother. Samantha had hated those rumors.

She loved her brother and didn't want that love to be judged by anyone. That their love was dragged through the dirt. They had just had a difficult childhood, only had themselves and couldn't even imagine life without each other. It was not their fault, nor could they do anything about it.

So, at some point Samantha had just started to taunt those rumors with just playing those kinds of games.

"You're staying at his place?" Veronika asked, still undeterred, obviously trying not to interpret these obvious innuendoes the way they were meant. if you sort of confirmed it and usually felt as embarrassed as if they had been caught in a perverted fantasy.

"Yes. I assume you're here to challenge me for my spot in his bed?” Samantha asked pointedly, causing Veronica's cheeks to turn pink even under the tons of makeup. She took a step back and Samantha had to bite back a laugh. Somehow, she almost felt sorry for her – but only almost.