“What a gentleman,” she snaps sarcastically, surveying the room. “Give the guy a prize.”
“I’m trying to keep you from getting used, raped, and possibly even killed,” I tell her in exasperation. “Why can’t you fucking see that?”
“Excuse me for doubting your intentions. But you have killed half my family. So it’s a little hard to take your words at face value.”
I want to tell her that I kill only when I have to, to protect those I care about. And amazingly, incomprehensibly, she is now one of those people.
But I’ve never been one to share my feelings. And I’m not about to start now.
“I’ll be back to check on you—”
She flies at me before I can finish my sentence. I grab her easily and pull her to my body, pinning her arms at her sides. She responds by headbutting me in the chin as hard as she can, her dark eyes roaring with fire.
“I refuse to stay here.”
“Then you leave me no other choice,” I sigh, losing patience.
I ignore the feel of her breasts pushed up against my chest as I drag her over to a large bondage chair. Leather straps dangle from either side. I use them to tether her hands to the seat while she screams a litany of swear words in my face, switching impressively between Italian, English, and pure nonsense fury.
I don’t say a word the entire time. I don’t engage. Even when I walk back up the stairs, I act as though I can’t hear her.
It’s the best way to piss her off.
When I slip out the black door, I don’t bother locking it. I head straight for my office, in dire need of some advice. I dial Cillian’s number the moment I walk through the door. He answers as I sit down behind my desk. I kick my feet up and try not to stare at the patio where only yesterday Renata and I had fucked like horny teenagers.
“Hey, little bro,” Cillian greets. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Does there have to be a reason?” I ask. “Maybe I just called to check in.”
Cillian sounds skeptical, but he accepts the explanation without question. “How’s the situation going?”
I fill Cillian in on the latest revelation: Renata’s birth mother and her reaction to the news.
“You fucking told her?” Cillian asks when I’m finished explaining, sounding shocked.
“She deserved to know,” I say stubbornly, despite the fact that I already know telling her had been a mistake.
“Well, yeah, maybe, but not now,” Cillian says. “Where is she?”
“Locked in a room in the house.”
“Wow, you sure know how to charm them, don’t you, brother?”
I smirk. “We can’t all have your boyish sense of humor and nauseating charm.”
“Jealousy is unbecoming, Kian.”
“Can we address the elephant in the room?” Saoirse’s voice cuts through both mine and Cillian’s.
“Saoirse!” Cillian bellows. “Private conversation here.”
“Please, like you don’t tell me about every conversation you have with your brothers,” she scoffs. “Sometimes word for word.”
“I knew it!”
“She’s lying,” Cillian lies.
Despite my foul mood, I laugh. “You’re lucky I trust your wife more than I trust you.”