“You blew her father’s kneecaps off the other day, Eoghan. I think that’s the opposite of slotting in well.”
I glared at Declan, but no one else showed much surprise, which told me news had spread…around my brothers’ circle or into my father’s ears, I wasn’t sure.
“He deserved it.”
“The fucker definitely deserved it for those bruises I saw,” Aidan growled. “Her face was like the fuckingTechnicolor Dreamcoat. I’ve beaten thieves less than what that cunt did to her.”
My temper surged, even as I forced it to flatline. “He isn’t King Dick now.”
“You saw him today? His guards let you in?”
“Went with Inessa.”
“You’re a mean motherfucker,” Brennan rumbled. “Why would she want to see her da like that?”
“Because he’s a fucker? Because her enemy is down?” Conor shrugged. “I’d have thought she’d get closure from the visit.”
“She did. She isn’t afraid of violence. Wouldn’t say she was bloodthirsty, but she’s not frightened of revenge.”
Declan scratched the stubble on his cheek. “That gift of hers was a nice touch.”
“Weird though.”
I snorted at Conor’s statement. “I was as surprised as you were.”
“Aren’t you the lucky one? Now Ma has an open invite, she’ll be around all the time.”
I flipped Brennan the bird, but he just grinned at me. “Might not be a bad thing. Will help her acclimate. She’s out of place. Fish out of water.” I leaned more of my weight onto the elbows I’d stacked on the table. “Seems to think the apartment is some kind of prison.”
“You know what they treat their women like in the Bratva.”
Dec’s remark had me sighing. “Pretty dolls.”
“Sounds about right,” Brennan said gruffly. “Fuckers.”
“I’m sure Vasov is saying the same about us.”
Finn’s lips twitched. “I’d have paid to see you blow his legs to pieces. That fuck makes your da look normal.” He grunted, pulling a face at a memory unique only to him—he’d been the one there when the details for my nuptials had become set in stone.
None of us were strangers to violence, but sweet fuck, for Finn to look a little queasy said it all.
Vasov deserved his fate.
Not that I was feeling guilty or anything, because I wasn’t.
He shouldn’t have hurt Inessa.
If he’d left her alone, he wouldn’t be needing a bag to collect his piss.
As I let my gaze drift up her long legs, to the ass that bounced when we fucked, and to the honey between her thighs as she shifted around when Aoife and her decided to take a seat at a small lounging area by the pool, I knew I was a fucking goner for her.
I wouldn’t say she had my prick in a vise, but for the moment at any rate, she had it in her fist, and I was more than happy for it to be there.
“Another one bites the dust,” Conor commented in a lilting voice that had me shooting him a look.
I didn’t argue though.
What was the point in arguing the truth?