Page 106 of Blindsided
“They were encrypted,” Connor corrects him. “Past tense.”
I can see Mark trying to process this, trying to find an angle, a way out. “And if I agree? You’ll let me go?”
“If you agree and follow through,” I tell him, “You get to keep your comfortable life. Your reputation. Your teeth.”
“But if you ever contact them again,” Declancontinues, his voice soft but deadly serious, “if you ever so much as speak their names...”
I grab Mark by his collar, dragging him forward until he’s teetering on the edge of the piling, the dark water just inches below. “You’ll be swimming with the fish. Permanently. Do we understand each other?”
Terror floods his face as he stares down at the harbor water. “Yes! Yes, I understand! Please, don’t—”
I release him abruptly, letting him fall back against the piling with a thud. “Remember this feeling,” I tell him, my voice low. “This fear. This is what you made them feel. Remember it every time you think about breaking your promise.”
We leave him there, hands and feet tied up, sitting on the dock. Someone will find him eventually—a dock worker, maybe, or a security guard. By then, we’ll be long gone, back at the estate with no connection to whatever story Mark decides to tell.
But then I stop.
Men like Mark never give up. If not Kori or Lana, it would be another woman. I turn around and stalk back to him. “On second thought, it’s a nice night for a swim.”
If nothing ever comes of what is going on between Kori and me, I know I have to do this forher.
I reach over to where Declan stands, grabbing the gun from the waistband of his jeans. Mark visibly cowers as I point it at him. My hand shakes. Despite being a member of a mob family, I’ve never pointed a gun at another human before.
Images of Kori cowering just like he is now when he showed up at the house play through my mind, and it fuels me.
The shot rings out, echoing off the buildings around us, and Mark slumps forward. I shove him with the toe of my boot over the edge. He cries out just before he hits the water with a splash. It doesn’t matter; he will be dead soon enough.
As we walk back to the vehicles, Declan falls into step beside me and smacks me on the back. “I’m proud of you. Feel better?”
I consider the question, searching for the satisfaction I expected to feel. “Not really,” I admit. “What he did to them... this doesn’t balance the scales.”
“It was never going to,” Declan says with the wisdom of someone who’s learned this lesson the hard way. “But they will be safe, and that’s what matters.”
I nod, watching the sunrise paint the sky in shades of pink and gold. In a few hours, I’ll be back at the estate, holding Kori, checking on Lana.In a week, we’ll be in Alberta, facing whatever final surprise Tomas has arranged for us. And after that...
After that is still unwritten, but for the first time in years, I’m looking forward to turning the page.
Chapter 39
Kori
I straighten my seat back as the pilot announces our final descent into Calgary. The flight has been quiet—too quiet—everyone lost in their own thoughts about what awaits us. Lana sits beside me, her bruises now faded to yellowish smudges beneath carefully applied makeup. It’s been a week since Kane and his brothers confronted Mark, a week of healing and preparation for this journey.
“Nervous?” Lana asks, her voice still carrying a slight rasp from the damage to her throat.
“Terrified,” I admit, keeping my voice low. “I feel like I’m intruding on a family pilgrimage.”
She squeezes my hand. “You were invited. You belong here.”
I’m not sure about that. Even after everything—the confrontation with Mark, the nights spent in Kane’s arms, the quiet moments getting to know his siblings—I still feel like an outsider in this world of MacGallan wealth and drama.
Across the aisle, Kane catches my eye and smiles. That smile still does things to my insides, still makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
“What do you think we’ll find?” I ask him, leaning across the gap between our seats.
“Knowing my father? Something dramatic and unnecessarily complicated,” he replies, but there’s less bitterness in his tone than before. Time and distance have softened some of his anger toward Tomas.
The plane touches down with a gentle bump, taxiing to our gate with efficient precision. As we gather our things, I notice the tension in everyone’s movements—the way Declan checks his watch repeatedly, how Kat’s fingers drum restlessly against her thigh, the careful blankness of Connor’s expression.
