Page 185 of Three Irish Kings
If this is the way he treats his own daughter, what has he done to Isla?
I swallow hard and wrack my brain for another stalling tactic.
“You hid her away for all these years? Why? To protect her?”
Cormac snorts. “No. Because I’m ashamed of her. Would you let the world know you have an ugly, stupid daughter?”
I grit my teeth. “I guess not.”
If Isla’s baby is mine, I’m sure it will be beautiful, but even if it isn’t, I would still think the same way.
Sympathy spreads through me for the poor little girl. But still, Cormac made her name his password, so I suppose he has some feelings toward her.
Either that or he just knew it would be difficult to guess.
A commotion sounds from outside, and Cormac opens his desk drawer and pulls out a gun before I can even react.
Fuck.
I hold my hands up, playing dumb. “What’s going on?”
Cormac grins wider. “You’ve come after your girl, aye?”
My blood runs cold, and I can practically feel the blood drain from my face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I keep my hands in the air.
He wiggles the gun as if gesturing to me. “I’ve seen you, had surveillance at that old cottage your father always used as a safehouse. He and I used to be close, you know.”
I did know that. In fact, Cormac and my father had built their empire together and then had a falling out. Over a woman, allegedly—Cormac's wife, who was once my father’s mistress.
Cormac had married her, kept her locked away for years other than when he paraded her around at events. She hadn’t been allowed to even go to the bathroom without a guard, but the cancer took her anyway.
What I didn’t know was that he had eyes on us this whole time.
“You’ve been fucking her, haven’t you? Our Magpie. She’s quite the looker, isn’t she? Bonny.”
“Listen, all I want is the girl. Your fight is with my da, not me.”
“Not much of a fight at all in his condition. I’ve seen his medical records, boyo. Dementia.” He tsks. “Hell of a thing. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy—who also happens to be Ronan.”
“You know that if you kill me, my father will come after you.”
He barks out a laugh, which echoes in the quiet room.
Where the hell is Cillian?
Panic rises in me.
I have to keep stalling. If Cormac kills me, we’ll never rescue Isla.
And something must be terribly wrong.
Cillian is a machine, but Reese O’Connell is huge and well-trained.
Maybe it was him?
I still. “Where’s Reese? Doesn’t he usually do your dirty work for you?”
