Page 109 of Royal Beast
“Clary. My office.”
That’s it. No greeting, no explanation. Just his usual clipped tone, colder than the weather outside.
I grab my notepad and head to his office, smoothing down my skirt as I walk. Rory Brannagan doesn’t take kindly to lateness, sloppiness, or any sign of weakness. Working for a Mob boss isn’t for the faint of heart, and some days I question how I ended up here.
If it wasn’t for the paycheck, I wouldn’t still be here. Rory pays well, really well, actually, and I need the money. It’sthe only way I’ll ever be able to escape the stranglehold my stepmother has on my life.
Kate’s always been the bane of my existence–controlling and demanding for as long as I can remember. Even after my father died, she made sure I was financially tethered to her, despite how much she seemed to hate me. It’s always about what I owe her, how I should be grateful she kept me after my dad died. But her generosity comes at a price, namely, my time, my freedom, and my life.
Every dollar I save brings me one step closer to being free of her once and for all. That is theonlyreason I put up with Rory’s constant orders and ice-cold glares.
I knock lightly before stepping into his office. He’s standing by the window, his back to me, broad shoulders framed by the sunlight streaming through the glass. His tailored suit is perfect, as always, looking immaculate.
“You called?” I ask, keeping my tone professional.
He turns, his piercing hazel eyes meeting mine. I hate that my heart skips a little, even now. There was a time when that look made my knees weak. Now it just makes me mad.
“I need you to plan a baby shower for Darcy,” he says, his tone clipped.
I blink. “A baby shower?”
“Yes,” he says impatiently, as though I’m the one being ridiculous. “For Darcy. Rose’s mother. Kellan’s wife. Your friend. Is that a problem?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s just a little unexpected.” Especially coming from Rory.
“You’re organized, and she trusts you. It’s logical.” He waves a hand dismissively and turns back to the window.
I grit my teeth, biting back a retort.Organized? Sure. But being his assistant is like trying to roll a boulder up a hill.Impossibly hard. He never thanks me, barely acknowledges my existence
“Anything else?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” he says, already focused on something else.
I turn to leave, but his voice stops me. “Clary.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Yes?”
He hesitates, his jaw tensing up like he’s struggling with whatever he wants to say. But then he shakes his head. “Never mind.”
I roll my eyes the second I’m out of his office. That’s just like him, refusing to let anyone in, tell anyone anything more than what’s absolutely necessary.
Back at my desk, I try to focus on the daily tasks in front of me, but my mind keeps drifting to the bigger task on my list. Planning a baby shower for Darcy will be fun. She’s sweet and easy to work with, unlike her bossy, brooding brother-in-law. But the thought of Rory asking me to do it—no, ordering me to do it—grates on my nerves.
It wasn’t always this way. When I first started working for Rory, I had the biggest crush on him. How could I not? He’s tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome, with that magnetic energy that makes everyone sit up and pay attention. It’s no wonder he runs the city. Everyone who ever meets him falls over themselves to do his bidding.
But it didn’t take long for reality to set in. Rory Brannagan is as cold as the suits he wears, as demanding as he is infuriating.
Still, he wasn’t always like that. Not entirely.
The memory sneaks in before I can stop it—the car accident.
I was driving Rose home from the hospital after we went there to visit Darcy’s father. It was cold out, a little icy, and I’d tried to be extra cautious, knowing I had precious cargo onboard. But then that big, black SUV appeared out of nowhere,tailing me so closely I could feel its headlights glaring in my mirrors.
I tried to stay calm, to keep driving, but they pushed me, forcing me through the intersection. I didn’t see the other car until it was too late. The impact was like a bomb going off. My car spun out, glass shattering, metal crunching. I remember screaming, then nothing.
When I woke up under the watchful eyes of the first responders, Rory had been there. He’d stormed in like a man on a mission, barking orders, demanding I be taken to the hospital immediately, even though the police needed my statement to try to locate Rose. He stayed by my side, his usual cold expression replaced with something I couldn’t quite place. Worry? Guilt?
That night, I’d seen a side of him I didn’t think existed. I was shocked at how different he’d been, how much nicer, more tender.
