Page 147 of Bride By Coronation

Bridget scoffs. "What's that?"

"Your daughter will always be protected. I will die making sure no one ever touches her."

"No one but you?" Bridget hurls out in a mix of disgust, horror, and fear.

It's so intense it almost cripples me.

She orders, "You need to divorce my daughter. This marriage cannot become public, and you know it."

The air in my lungs turns stale. I reply, "I'm sorry, but I won't ever do such a thing."

Dante roars, "You know a Petrov cannot be married to an O'Malley!"

Frustrated, I rub my hand over my face and release an exasperated breath. "I know this is hard for you."

Bridget cries out, "Don't you say that to me. What your family has done to..." She stops and looks away.

The tension grows thicker.

I've never felt so guilty or horrible. I know the role my family played in Sean's demise and what they did to her, and it's haunted me since it happened. I've always blamed myself for not knowing about it so I could have tried to prevent it.

Fiona questions, "Done to whom or what?"

I look at her, ordering, "Leave it."

She jerks her head back and glares at me. I can't blame her. I told her there would be no more secrets, but I would rather die than tell her what I know.

Bridget's voice shakes. She barely gets out, "You know everything?"

I clench my jaw, meeting her gaze.

Horror, shame, and agony fill her expression.

Dante barks, "Enough of this. Whose side are you on, Fiona?"

Her hand trembles.

I grip it and answer for her, stating, "She's not on any side. She's the same person she was before she married me."

"She married a Petrov," Dante says with disgust.

"Yes, we've already established that fact, and we're going to all have to get over it," I claim.

Dante roars, "Get over it? You don't get over it."

My stomach flips. Before I can think, I hurl, "Then you're going to disown Fiona?"

A tense, disturbing silence fills the room.

Fiona rises, and her voice quivers. "I think I know the answer to that question. Don't worry, Dante, you won't have to deal with me now that I'm a Petrov." She turns to me. "Let's go."

I rise. "Fiona, we can't leave like this."

"I said I want to go. They've made their position clear," she firmly asserts.

I glance at Bridget, declaring, "You cannot disown your daughter."

Her gaze darts between Dante and Fiona. Her mouth hangs open, and no words come out. Tears drip off her chin.

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