Page 138 of Brutal Heir
Not days. Not even hours to plan.
My breath stutters, chest tightening until it feels like my ribs are caving in. Bile burns up the back of my throat. The room spins slightly, tilting sideways like the world’s just decided to tilt off its axis.
I grip the edge of the table to keep from collapsing.
“No,” I breathe, too low for him to hear. “No, no, no…”
It’s too soon. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.
In a few hours, I’ll be his. His bride. His prisoner. Forever.
I suck in a deep breath, steadying myself. Then that fear morphs into something darker. Anger. Fury. It’s all so feckin’ unfair.
“So that’s it? No apology? No explanation? Just dress up and get shackled to the Butcher of Belfast like a good little daughter?”
His mouth flattens. “You’re doing the right thing, Brigid. For your family.”
A bitter laugh erupts from my throat. “Don’t call me that. You lost the right the day you traded me like cattle. My name is Rory now. I will never be Brigid again. And you were never a father, you were only a coward. A coward who let Mam die. Who let Conall destroy me.”
Da stiffens. “You think I wanted this for you? You think I had a bloody choice? Conall’s been after you since the moment you ran away. You embarrassed him. Made him look weak. I’ve been doing everything I can to keep the rest of the family breathing.”
My voice is ice. “So why did he come for me now?” Now that I was finally happy with Alessandro. “Why not a year ago?”
He shifts his weight, eyes darting toward the curtained window. “He found out you were in Manhattan. One of Mullen’s boys saw you at Flanagan’s. Word got back to Conall, and he reached out.”
“Bullshit.” I narrow my eyes. “He’s been searching for me since I disappeared. I know about the bounty. So why didn’t he act before?”
He hesitates. And that’s when I know.
“You’re not telling me everything,” I whisper.
“I am.”
“No, you’re lying.” My hands curl into fists. The bounty… “Who gave me up?”
His silence is the answer.
I take a step forward, heart pounding. “Who?”
He sighs, dragging a hand through his greying hair. “Conall offered that reward and... He said there’d be a hefty sum for whoever could bring you back in.”
A beat. Then another.
God, no. All the air siphons from my chest. “It was Blaine, wasn’t it?”
His eyes snap to mine, too slow to deny it.
The floor drops out beneath me.
For a second, I can’t breathe. It’s like someone’s punched a hole straight through my chest, carved out my lungs and left me hollow. My knees buckle, and I stagger back until my spine hits the edge of the bed.
“No,” I whisper, but it comes out cracked and useless.
A flash of Blaine’s crooked smile, the freckles on his nose, the way he used to fall asleep beside me during thunderstorms. It all hits like shrapnel.
My baby brother.
The one I was about to sacrifice everything for.
