Page 50 of Possessive Mafia Vows

“No. I made a coffee and checked my phone. I was waiting for you to come home. You went into the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and went to bed.”

“I always take a glass of water to bed with me. But I can assure you that I was home a little after midnight. I peeped into your room, and you were sound asleep, so I didn’t wake you. You must’ve heard me when I got up in the night because I was thirsty.”

The toaster pings, and he catches the slices of bread as they pop out. He turns his back on me to spread the butter.

I’m confused. I was awake all night and I didn’t hear him come in. And I’m positive that I’d have heard him open my bedroom door.

“I didn’t sleep.” I’m frantically trying to recall if I did doze off or not. “My brain wouldn’t switch off.”

He grins at me from over his shoulder. “Next time, I’ll record your snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

“I’ve got news for you, sweetheart: you do.”

I’m too tired to argue with him. I know what I heard, and I know what I saw, but now I’m questioning whether he’s telling the truth, and I did maybe doze off for a while without even realizing.

“I’m going to the gallery.” I grab my purse.

“Wait for me to finish my breakfast. I’ll come with you.”

12

KYLE

“I wentto Nick Morris’s clinic this morning.” Mom’s gaze flits between me and Terry from the couch where, for once, she has a cup of creamy, sweetened coffee in front of her. “He isn’t there.”

“Okay, Mom. Firstly, what the hell were you thinking?”

When I discovered Nick’s identity, my initial reaction was that he was coming after his half-brothers. Jealousy maybe? He has his own clinic, a lot of his clients are wealthy women, and while he doesn’t move in celebrity circles, his reputation means that his income will keep him in regular Caribbean cruises and skiing vacations.

But it doesn’t compare to the Murray fortune. So, I convinced myself that this wasn’t about Mom. If, however, he’s looking for a way in and Sienna isn’t playing ball, Mom might be next on his list of targets, and that’s another risk I’m not prepared to take.

“I needed to see it for myself.” Mom raises her coffee to her lips, a distraction from what she knows is coming.

“See what?”

“Him. Caelan’s son.”

My chest tightens. I didn’t need to use my inhaler while I was in Ireland. I’ve not been back for two weeks, and already I feel that restriction in my lungs, as though they shrunk in the wash.

I glance at Terry. His expression is unfathomable, but his eyes register a mixture of emotions: fear, surprise, resignation. Guilt blossoms inside my chest, adding a little extra strain to my wheezing airways; I should never have asked her to meet me for lunch. If I’d kept her away from Nick, she’d have been blissfully unaware of my half-brother’s existence.

“How did you know?”

“There was something in his eyes. Something cold.” She’s looking straight through me to the past, to memories of the man we’ve spent our lives protecting her from. “I knew that he looked familiar, but I couldn’t attach a name to the face. It was the feeling in here—” she places a hand over her tummy “—that jogged my memory. That sickly sense of foreboding that something bad was coming.”

She blinks, snapping herself out of her painful reverie.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

I slide my inhaler from my pocket—I’ve carried it with me ever since my last asthma attack when Sienna was abducted by Olivia Dragonetti and Ivan Petrov—and place it between my lips. I suck in a deep breath and hold it in my lungs.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me, but it wasn’t your secret to keep, Kyle. Or yours, Ter.” She faces my stepfather. “How can I protect myself when I don’t have all the information?”

“We thought it was for the best.” Terry rubs his jawline with one hand. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you. I made that promise when I met you, and I’ve never let you down, have I?”

“No,” Mom concedes. “But this is different. This is personal. That man is here for one reason, and it isn’t to reduce women’s breast sizes.”

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