Page 4 of Haunted Nights & Savage Sins
Father sighs and looks up at me as if his patience is wearing thin. “Brenna, when will you understand? Appearances are everything in this world. It doesn’t matter if this will have any effect on the business; it only matters what it looks like.” He has the nerve to smirk at me.
The anger inside me wins out. I’m not going down without more of a fight.
“You can’t make me stay there. Even if you send me away, I’ll just run. No one is going to make me stay somewhere I don’t want to be.”
The smile slides off his face. “Then you will return home with the edge of my blade. Don’t think of this as a punishment, Brenna. Think of this as your salvation. Now you have a chance to atone for all your sins. To finally put this family above everything else, even your childish wants and needs. You will marry, you will be the devoted wife, and you will make sure this allegiance stays strong.”
There’s no way out of this.
I can either get married and shipped off like a broodmare, or I can rebel and be killed. At this point, death may be the best of my choices.
“Who? Which one of those bastards agreed to this?” I question, my voice much softer than I want it to be.
The fight is already gone from me. I don’t have any other options. Such is my life as the daughter of a mafia king.
When I was younger, I never understood why I never made any friends. Why all the other parents forbade their children from getting close to me. I’m the princess of the Doyle Crime Family. There has only ever been one path my life would take. Destruction.
Of course, the kids were scared of me. One look from my father and their entire lives would be destroyed.
“What does it matter? He’ll be here shortly. Why ruin the surprise?” My father has the nerve to actually sound joyful, as if this is the type of surprise that I’m interested in.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
“I don’t want any surprises, Father. I just want to know who my new captor will be. At least give me that much.”
With another sigh, he reaches forward for another letter. “Cormac O’Sullivan.”
My mouth goes dry and my eyes widen.
Out of all the possible suitors, Cormac O’Sullivan is the absolute worst option. I’ve heard horrific stories about him, though I’ve never seen him in person.
They say he’s a monster, horribly disfigured and heartless. Crazy. Definitely not looking for a wife.
He’s the eldest son of the O’Sullivan family, the one everyone knows not to cross. And I’m about to be married to him.
“Father, no, please. I’m begging you. Not him. I couldn’t bear…”
He doesn’t let me finish. Apparently, he’s through listening to me beg.
“You will! That’s the end of this conversation. Now, if I were you, I’d get started packing your things. Cormac isn’t known for being hospitable, so unless you want to spend the rest of your life in burlap sacks, you’d better prepare.”
That is truly the end of the conversation. No matter what I say to him now, it won’t change the end result.
I turn on my heel, walking more slowly than usual as I make my way to my bedroom. The bright blue and white décor of my space is in direct contrast with the rest of the large home.
This room has been my safe space for as long as I can remember. Tears have been shed on that frilly pillow. Clothes have been thrown in those corners when I couldn’t find anything to wear. Hours have been spent sitting in the small nook by the window while I wished for a different life.
I guess I’m going to get my wish.
A different life is steaming straight for me like a freight train.
2
CORMAC
I can’t rememberthe last time I went outside.
It’s of my own doing, and the mere fact that in this day and age I can get everything I need delivered to the door.
