Page 35 of Black Wedding

Eventually, I manage to get Ryleigh seated on the bed that Freya is leaning on, and their tears begin to dry up. Silence fills the room, but I just don’t know what to say. I’m the one that dragged them here and made them witness that horrific incident. If I hadn’t returned, they wouldn’t have had to either. It’s my job to protect them, and I failed. So how do I find the words to say I am sorry?

Before I get a chance to say anything, Freya lifts her head and addresses Bree. “You must be the bride-to-be?”

“Yeah...sorry it wasn’t a great first meeting. I’m Bree,” she mumbles, clearly not sure how to talk to my sisters right now.

I can tell by the slight shake of her hand that she is trying to hide, the pink tinge on her cheeks, and the way she is chewing on the inside of her lip that she is nervous. She knows how important my sisters are to me, and it’s obvious she is worried they won’t like her; she doesn’t have to be.

“You are kidding, right? Girl...you are a badass. The way you stood up to that asshole. We have been trying to learn how to do that for years. I’m Ryleigh, by the way.” Ryleigh states as she pulls herself away from my hold, looking embarrassed by the wet stain she left on my t-shirt.

“I’m Freya. I don’t know how you have the balls to do what you just did, but thank you,” my eldest sister says as she holds her arms out, asking permission to hug Bree. She quickly obliges, and it’s not long until my youngest sibling throws herself on the floor to get in on the group hug. Their joint laughter is like music to my ears.

As they pull away from the hug and start to giggle, I feel my heart starting to fill even more than before. How has a girl I never saw coming managed to fit into my life so perfectly?

“Before we go down for breakfast, can I ask something? Why does your father do this to you?” Bree asks, and both the girls look away as though they are embarrassed. They have no reason to be.

I start to answer, but Freya cuts me off. “When we were younger, we were literally both his favourites. He adored us and showered us with more love than he did all the boys, more than we thought he was capable of. Then one night, when I was about fourteen, Dad was drunk, ranting and shouting at Mammy. Normally, she just lets him get on with it, but she was equally as drunk this one night and couldn’t take any more. It turns out that night was the anniversary of the death of their child. She would have been born before me, after Liam. Evan was only four at the time, so none of them remembered there was a baby. Apparently, Mammy did not take the baby’s death well, and to cut a long story short, she had an affair. During this drunken argument, Mammy let slip that we are not really Desmond’s daughters. She has never revealed who our father is, which is a good decision because Desmond will have him slaughtered. But since that day, he stopped seeing us as his daughters, and we became a commodity. He has to benefit from our existence somehow, and he decided that sex is our only asset. He also knows that he can use us to get to Mammy, which is why he drops a lot of sexual innuendos when she is around. If Liam hadn’t gotten us out when he did, we would have ended up worse for wear as Desmond was planning to auction off our virginity,” Freya explains, and with every word she speaks, I watch as the girls change. Freya and Ryleigh look more embarrassed as they try to avert their gaze from her, but Bree, her face, morphs more and more with anger. I can almost feel the anger vibrating off her from here.

“Fuck, that’s so fucked up. Has he ever tried it on with you?” Bree asks sheepishly like she’s not sure if she should get that personal.

“No way. I think there is a part of him that still sees us as his daughters. But his pride is what’s controlling him now,” explains Ryleigh. “I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Finally, a statement we can all get behind. A knock on the door pulls us out of our moment, and Finn walks in, reminding us of our breakfast appointment. Then Bree and I need to find out exactly what my father is planning, and if he is the person responsible for the threats.

Listening to the girls talk about their horrific experiences makes my blood boil. I hate that anyone would treat them like that, but to get it from your father is something I just can’t understand. He raised them for most of their life. I have learnt very quickly that blood isn’t always thicker than water. The bonds we choose for ourselves are often the strongest. Thankfully, they will always have Liam, and now me.

Thankfully, breakfast passes by in a blur. It was very uneventful, which for this family, I have quickly learnt, is a novelty. We all wait for Desmond to dismiss us, as nobody can leave the table without his prior approval. As everyone else goes off to their respective rooms, he instructs Liam and me to his office. Liam takes my hand and gives me a small smile. That’s enough for me. It tells me my Liam is very much here, and that he’s not the zombie in Desmond’s office from yesterday.

We approach the door, two big burly looking men with shaved heads and stern but vacant expressions are guarding either side of the entrance. Desmond instructs them to wait outside, which is good for us. He at least doesn’t plan on using his security staff to try and kill us. Sadly, that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to lose his shit and kill us himself.

There are two chairs in the room this time, and he instructs us to each sit, which we do as he slumps into his large, luxurious leather seat behind the desk. I feel his piercing black eyes boring into my skin, almost like he is trying to kill me with just his eyes. But, unfortunately for him, that sort of shit stopped intimidating me a long time ago.

“So, what is it you want to talk to me about?” Desmond asks, indicating with his hand that he gives me permission to speak freely.

Taking a deep breath, I make an on the spot decision that I need to just be honest. Of course, Liam will be pissed because he coached me on what to say, and this is practically the opposite, but I have to do this my way.

“So, I know that men don’t recognise me as a leader, I don’t give a shit about that. I will prove myself with time; that’s all I can promise people. I won’t ask for your trust, but you can sure as fuck trust that I will earn it. I will prove myself to everyone, but to do that, I need to be given a chance. I know I have several enemies. I have enough threats to know I am being targeted by more than one group. What I need to know is who I focus on first. So, how much of a threat are you to me?” I ask, making sure to keep eye contact at all times, so he knows how very fucking serious I am.

His laughter rings through the room as he throws his head back before looking at me again. “I will always be a big threat to you. It is no secret that I want London, and you are naive if you think people won’t capitalise on your weakness, using this handover time as a time to attack. However, I can assure you I have not got any outward plans to attack you. Believe it or not, I have no intention of slaughtering my son. He may be a pain in my ass, but I made his mother a promise, and unless I am forced, I will not break that promise. Besides, Evan reminded me that if I wait for you to provide me with a grandchild, then my family will be in power anyway,” Desmond added. I don’t know which part of that statement freaked me the fuck out more.

“So you want to work with us? Suppose you are willing to accept me as the leader. In that case, I will agree to a truce, and we will open lines of communication to have your family working with mine. Not only will this give you more reach and a financial boost, but you will also have links to London,” I offer, my heart racing as I do.

I try not to glance over at Liam, but it’s difficult to ignore the shake of his head and look of annoyance on his face. Desmond, on the other hand, now is wearing the biggest, and quite frankly most disturbing, grin I have ever seen. “And what makes you think I won’t use that to gain more power and overthrow you?” he asks, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“I fully anticipate that is what you will do, but as I mentioned before, I only want to fight one enemy at a time. So, I offer a temporary truce to you while I take out the Marcushio’s, and then I and you will have our time later. You will never rule London, and Liam will never side with you. So one day, our fight will come, but that day is not today. Do you agree to a truce?” I ask, my voice hitching slightly at the end as doubt starts to creep into my mind.

Initially, I thought Desmond would never be someone who would honour a truce, but then Liam told me earlier that his word is the most important thing. I know he will try to stab me in the back one day, and when that day comes, I will be ready. But until then, I need him to keep his word while I take out the Marcushio’s.

“Fine, Your Highness. You have a deal...for now. But wewillhave our day,” he states, and I reach my hand out to shake his.

As our hand’s touch, his face turns into a leer, and his eyes wander down to my cleavage. He keeps hold of my hand as he licks his lips, eyes still ogling my tits. Liam coughs deliberately to get Desmond’s attention. Desmond makes sure to shoot a smirk in Liam’s direction before letting go of my hand.

“Now that that is sorted, you need to give back the guns,” Liam states, and Desmond looks at him in confusion,

“What guns?”

“The AK47s from the shipment you hijacked,” Liam explains.

I watch Desmond’s face as Liam explains what he means, and the confusion remains on Des’ face. When he denies that he has the guns or knows anything about the guns, I believe him. There’s no way he could have hidden his reaction that well. This guy wears his emotions with pride. He doesn’t try to hide them; instead, he owns them. Looking over at Liam, I see he believes him too.

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