Page 119 of Brutal Heir
“Damn right you will,” my uncle mutters.
Papàpushes back from the table, signaling the end of the meeting. “Matteo, dig deeper. Find out where Conall’s money is moving. If he’s paying bounty hunters, someone’s getting paid through a channel we can trace.”
“And if we find him?” I ask.
My father meets my gaze. “Then we remind him what happens to men who come for what belongs to the Geminis.”
The moment the boardroom doors click shut behind me, I exhale through my nose, shoulders still tight with the weight of everything that just went down. I’ve faced gunfire, knives, firebombs. I’ve crawled through the ashes of my own skin.
But nothing guts me like the thought of losing her.
The soft tap of boots on polished marble draws my gaze down the corridor. Rory. Leaning against the wall like she’s barelyholding herself together, arms wrapped around her middle. Her face is pale beneath those scattered freckles.
Her eyes meet mine and something inside me lurches. She looks broken.
“Hey,” I say quietly, walking toward her.
Her arms drop to her sides, but she doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Not until I’m standing right in front of her.
“I heard shouting,” she whispers. “Your dad. Your uncle. Matteo.”
I nod once. “They’re pissed. But it’s handled. For now.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Because of me.”
“No.”
She laughs bitterly, hugging herself again. “Don’t lie to me, Ale. Not now. I know how these things play out. I know what Conall’s bounty means, what it could trigger. Every Irish thug in this city will come sniffing. And if anything happens to you…”
Her voice breaks. She turns her face away, like she doesn’t want me to see the tears she’s trying to blink back.
“Rory—”
“I’ll turn myself in.” The words tumble out of her like a gut-punch, wild and breathless. “I mean it. If it keeps you safe, keeps them from coming after your family, I’ll go. I’ll hand myself over to Conall. Maybe he’ll call off the hunt. Maybe?—”
“Stop.” My voice is sharp, unforgiving. Her words send a chill straight through me.
She flinches but keeps going anyway. “If he hurts you because of me, Ale… I’ll never survive it. You don’t understand. He destroyed everything I ever was. Everything I ever had. And somehow,youput me back together. You made me believe I was still worth loving. And now I’ve dragged you into the crosshairs of the worst monster I’ve ever known.”
“I’m not in the crosshairs,” I say, stepping in, cupping her face with both hands. “Iamthe crosshairs.”
“Ale—”
“No.” My voice cracks, but I don’t care. I press my forehead to hers, the way I always do when the world’s about to fall apart. “You listen to me, Rory Delaney. You’re not going anywhere. You’re not handing yourself over to that sick bastard. Do you hear me?”
Her breath hitches. “But?—”
“I’d rather die than lose you.”
She jerks back just slightly, eyes wide and glistening.
“I mean it,” I rasp. “I survived a goddamn explosion. I can survive a war with the Quinlans. But not a world without you in it.”
Her lips tremble, and then she’s in my arms, burying her face in my chest like she’s trying to disappear into me. I hold her tighter than I probably should. My healing shoulder screams in protest, but I don’t let go.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into my shirt. “I’m so, so sorry for all of it.”
“I know.” My voice is hoarse. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re mine. And no one, not Conall, not the Irish, not anyone, is going to take you from me.” And I know just how to ensure that.
