Fiona actually shudders from the iciness in my tone, dropping her eyes to the desk and cringing back into her seat. Ronan adjusts his stance so part of her is shielded from me by his leg.
If I weren’t so fucking intent on knowing what that fucking bitch was saying about Tig, I probably would have found it funny that the Irish Saint appears to have added to his collection of broken things.
“But she started saying Tiggy was getting you to shower her with attention by flirting with your men. By threatening to sleep around with them,” she whispers. Fuckingwhat? I see red, rage surging through me. She’s a fucking dead bitch.
Shoving away from my desk, I stalk around and out of the room. Liam hurries after me, but Ronan stays put, assuring Fiona that she did the right thing in coming to tell me. She should have fucking come to me sooner. But we can chat about that later.
Striding into the dressing room, my eyes fly around wildly until they land on Tahlie. She’s over in front of a full-length mirror, primping her hair. As I stalk towards her, the stupid bitch’s eyes meet mine in the mirror, and she has the fucking audacity to smile seductively at me.
She opens her mouth to speak as I come to a halt behind her, our eyes still locked together in the mirror. Whatever she was going to say is lost when I grab her by the throat, spinning her and slamming her against it, her head hitting the mirror so hard cracks appear like thin spider webs radiating out.
Her eyes are wide and filled with terror, her long, red, talon-like fingers scrabbling against my hand, trying to tug it away from where it is crushing her windpipe.
“What the fuck have you been saying about my wife?” I roar at her. The room falls deathly silent as Tahlie’s mouth soundlessly moves, and she gurgles and chokes, struggling to breathe.
“Jesus fuck, Fitzy!” Connor’s voice rings out as he appears beside me, Paddy on the other side, trying to wrestle me away from this lying bitch.
Shrugging them off, I tighten my grip. Liam and Ronan join the fray, dragging the lads away. This time, when I speak, my voice is low and lethal, petrifying Tahlie even more.
“Your lies don’t just put my wife’s life in danger,” I tell her as she chokes and gasps, “they also put the lives of my lads in danger.”
Paddy and Connor stop struggling, turning disgusted faces on Tahile.
It’s not an exaggeration. Rumors that Tig might be betraying me could be a death sentence for her, as evidenced by the gruesome manner of her own mother’s death at her father’s hands. But they would also be a death sentence for whichever one of my lads she was accused of sleeping with.
Only Paddy would be safe from the accusations. Everyone knows he can’t stand Tig. Even Connor’s life could be on the line. Tahlie hasn’t just endangered the life of my wife and my lads. She’s endangered the life of my cousin. She’s lucky it’s me she is dealing with and not Pa.
I don’t bother allowing Tahlie to explain herself. When I asked her, her eyes told me everything I needed to know.
Jerking her away from the mirror, I drag her by the throat out of the dressing room and down the stairs to the basement to await Niall’s pleasure.
Tahlie screams and begs as I tie her to the table, but I tune her out. Slamming the door behind me, I call Niall.
“Fitzy?” he grunts as he picks up the phone. “I just spoke to Ronan.”
“I want answers, and I want her fucking dead.”
There is silence on the other end of the phone. I have never asked Niall to kill a woman before, but there is a first time for everything, and Tahlie has earned that privilege.
“As you like, Fitzy.”
The line goes dead, and I walk upstairs, my limbs feeling weighed down. Tahlie deserves this, but she’s still a lass. An evil, fucked up, sadistic, psychopathic lass. But still a lass.
Paddy and Connor are waiting in my office, an open bottle of whiskey on the desk beside three tumblers. I guess it’s going to be a long fucking evening.
Niall appears back upstairs around eight.
“It’s done,” he grunts, looking and sounding gruffer than usual. I guess even the Reaper struggled with the idea of killing a lass.
I nod, offering him the bottle of whiskey, but he shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck.
“She figured at the very least ye would set Tiggy aside. I’m not sure what her end game was, possibly to get ye to fuck her again.”
I stiffen at his words. You have to be fucking kidding me. This was all over the possibility I might stick my dick in her again? Thank Christ, the psychopathic bitch is gone.
“Jesus fuck,” I groan, rubbing my eyes. “Didn’t the silly bitch realize she could have gotten Tig killed?”
“I don’t think she cared,” Niall shrugs. “She seemed very fixated on ye, Fitzy. I think she wanted Tiggy dead.”