Page 40 of Legacy Of Ashes
"Before..." He gestures weakly at himself. "Family... needs... protection."
The betrayal burns through me like poison. "You sold me. While I was becoming everything you claimed to want, you were trading me like a prize mare."
His good hand fists the sheets. "Family... first."
"I am family. I'm your daughter, your blood, your heir." My voice turns deadly quiet. "Not your bargaining chip."
"Petrov... powerful. Alliance... necessary."
"Then make a business deal. Don't pimp out your child."
His eyes flash with the temper I inherited. "You... will... do... duty."
Twenty-six years of believing I mattered to him as more than a womb with the right bloodline. All delusion.
"No." The word rips from my throat. "I won't."
"Family... honor?—"
"Fuck family honor." The curse shocks us both. "I won't be sold to buy your Russian protection."
His face twists with fury, but his weakened body can't match his rage. "You... will... obey."
I back toward the door, my whole body shaking. "Watch me."
I find Conall in the estate's gym, destroying a heavy bag with brutal force. Sweat coats his bare chest as he drives punishing blows into leather. Each strike echoes my heartbreak, my fury, my desperate need for someone who sees me as more than property.
He senses my presence and turns, gray eyes immediately reading my devastation. His hands drop, muscles still coiled with unleashed power.
"What happened?"
"He sold me." The words come out shattered. "To Valentin Petrov. Marriage alliance, arranged before his stroke."
Conall goes deadly still. Pure murder crosses his face. "He told you this?"
"Made it crystal clear." I step closer, drawn by the raw strength radiating from him. "I'm to marry a Russian to secure protection. My duty to spread my legs for the family."
"Over my dead body."
The fierce possessiveness in his voice makes my cunt clench with need. This is what I crave—not gentle comfort, but matching fury. Someone who'll claim me the way I want to be claimed.
"Will you fight him?" I challenge, moving closer until his masculine scent fills my lungs. "Will you fight for me?"
His control shatters. One heartbeat I'm standing, the next he's backing me against the mirrored wall, his body caging mine with delicious dominance. His hands slam against the glass on either side of my head.
"I've wanted you since you turned twenty-one," he growls against my ear, his breath making me shiver. "Watching you grow into this gorgeous, brilliant woman while knowing I could never touch you. Watching other men look at you and wanting to rip their throats out."
His confession sends molten desire through my veins. "Conall..."
"Do you know how many nights I've stroked my cock thinking about you? About your mouth wrapped around me, your tight little pussy squeezing me while you scream my name?"
My knees buckle. "Tell me more."
"Every night for five years." His mouth hovers above mine, sharing breath. "Every night imagining how wet you'd get for me, how you'd beg me to fuck you harder."
I grab his sweat-slick shoulders, nails biting into muscle. "I touch myself thinking about you too. About your hands on my body, your cock stretching me until I can't think."
He makes a sound like a dying man. "Jesus Christ, Saoirse..."
