Page 139 of Brutal Heir

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And he sold me.

“He didn’t mean any harm?—”

“No harm?” I choke out, voice raw. “He sold me. His own sister. For what? A fucking pile of cash?”

“He thought he was saving himself. Saving us all. You’ve no idea how desperate things got after you left. Conall took everything. Our money, our men. Blaine made a deal to bring you home and Bran helped. No one knew how far Conall would go.”

“I did,” I hiss. “That’s the difference. I knew exactly what kind of monster you were handing me over to. That’s why I ran across the damned ocean to get away from him.”

Da’s face is tight, lined with guilt that’s far too late.

I sink onto the edge of the bed, the weight of betrayal crushing me from all sides. From Blaine. From Da. From every man who’s ever said they loved me and still let me burn.

“I’m marrying a monster today,” I whisper, eyes glassy. “And the people I did it for are the same ones who threw me into the feckin’ fire.”

Da doesn’t say anything. Just stands there with the ghost of shame on his face. But I don’t want his shame. I want my life back.

IwantAlessandro.

But tonight, I’ll be Conall’s bride. Unless I find a way to stop it.

And I will. If it’s the last thing I do.

CHAPTER 53

BURN THIS CITY

Alessandro

The Belfast winter air cuts like a knife the moment I step off the jet. Damp, grey, and laced with something acrid like the spirits of old wars and grudges. It seeps into my bones, dragging every buried rage and fear to the surface.

“She’s here,” I mutter, jaw clenched as my boots hit the tarmac. “I can feel it.”

Matteo follows close behind, pulling his coat tighter against the wind. “And so is he. Let’s not forget that.” Something unreadable surges across my cousin’s eyes. It’s not fear; Matteo isn’t scared of anything. It’s like he’s seen a ghost amid the rolling hills of Belfast.

I open my mouth to ask what’s got him spooked, but he cuts me off before I get a word out. “Fucking Conall Quinlan,” he growls.

And just like that, all thoughts of his worries are replaced by my own. Every part of me wants to rip this city apart brick by brick until I find Rory. Until I have her safe in my arms again.

It’s not until we reach the black SUV waiting at the hangar that it occurs to me this is the first time I’ve stepped across a tarmac since the explosion in Milano. I hadn’t even considered it because I’d been so consumed by my fear for Rory.

Before dark memories of the past make their way to the surface we’ve reached the car. Burying any fleeting trauma to the far corners of my mind, I focus on why we’re here and forget my grisly past.

“Any sign of the car that picked her up from the airport last night?” I ask as we climb into the SUV.

We’re only a few hours behind them. They can’t have gotten far.

“Not yet. My guys are working through the security feeds,” Matteo replies, tapping away at his phone. “But I’ve got our overseas crew already posted at every major exit from the city. Ports, airfields, even the ferry stations. If Conall tries to move her anywhere, we’ll know. They’re currently searching his warehouses, store fronts, pubs, all known addresses…”

“Good.” I run a hand through my hair, frustration surging. “I don’t want to wait for him to move her. I want to strike first.” Because knowing that sick fuck, there are plenty of things he can do to her right here in Belfast.

Matteo nods. “I’ve already reached out to our Irish contact, Finlay Morrow. Runs a nightclub in the Cathedral Quarter. He’s loyal. And pissed at the Quinlans.”

I grunt. “That’s one thing we’ve got in common.”

The SUV speeds through the winding countryside roads, hedgerows blurring past in streaks of green and grey. Every second that ticks by feels like sand slipping through my fingers. She could be anywhere, locked in some stone-walled estate, bruised, broken… alone.

The thought nearly undoes me.