Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I could still save myself.
But I’ve been gone for a very long time, and any chance at clawing back my sanity was lost years ago.
“Let me marry her instead.”
I expect him to look surprised, to laugh and tell me that’s crazy, to give me something.
Instead, he only takes a drink, ice tinkling against the glass.
My jaw works. My heart hammers as blood fills my face. I hate this fucking feeling. Like I’m at his goddamn mercy.
Finn could break me now if he wanted.
But Finn’s a good man.
“You love her that much, don’t you?”
“No,” I whisper, grim and horrible. “I don’t love her at all.”
It’s so much worse than that.
I worship her.
What’s love to a goddess? Love is pathetic. Love is a chemical reaction.
My feather has my devotion. She has my goddamn soul.
“Then why do you want this? If you’re giving me the Marino job, there’s nothing else for you. Except for her.”
“It doesn’t matter. Let me marry her. This is your way out.”
He tightens his grip on the glass. “I know it’s fucked, but I have to ask—are you going to hurt this girl?”
I slam my glass down on the countertop. The bottom shatters and the liquor pours out as I lean toward him. Glass cuts my hand. Blood mixes with whiskey. I stare death at my brother, body trembling with sudden rage.
“I’d never fucking hurt her,” I snarl, so angry that he could even suggest it.
Finn flinches back. For a moment, there’s fear in his eyes.
But he quickly gathers himself.
“Alright,” he says, struggling to maintain his composure. “You’re bleeding on my kitchen.”
“Switch with me. Let me fucking marry her.”
He sighs and gets a paper towel. Without answering, he comes over and starts cleaning the glass shards. I hesitate before helping him. I hold the paper towel against the cuts, gently picking a single shard from my skin.
Once the mess is handled, Finn returns to his spot across the island.
“I’ll think about it.”
I drag in a breath through my nose. “There’s no time for that.”
“I’m pretty sure I have a few hours.”
“I need to know now.”
He shakes his head, staring at me. “Not yet. You’re too worked up right now. Cormac, I’ve never seen you this fucked up before and it’s worrying me.”
I struggle to master myself. I can imagine how this seems from his perspective. “Just please. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I believe you, and that’s what scares me.” He finishes his drink and puts the glass in the sink. “Go home. Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Finn,” I snarl through my teeth.
But he holds up a hand. “Tomorrow, okay? If you still want this, ask me then.”
Fuck. Devastation fills me. He’s not saying no, but he’s not saying yes either.
Will I still be strong enough to ask again in the morning? In the cold light, with the alcohol gone from my veins, can I still do it?
Finn heads back upstairs. “Go home,” he calls out as he disappears into his room. “Big day tomorrow.”
I linger in the kitchen. Pain pulses in my hand and deep inside my chest. I showed Finn the darkest, most pathetic part of me, and it still wasn’t enough.
I’m even more wrecked than I was before.
Because tomorrow is the wedding, and I don’t know who will be standing at that altar.
Chapter 10
Bianca
“How’s it feel being on this side of the wedding?” Lucy buzzes around me, messing with my hair, touching up my makeup, basically fussing all over the place.
I consider that. “Terrible,” I answer honestly.
She laughs lightly. There’s a deep sadness in her eyes. We’re sitting in the bridal suite of a high-end wedding venue deep in the heart of New York, a long way from our usual Philadelphia territory.
“It wasn’t that long ago you were shouting out orders from behind a clipboard.” Lucy sits down beside me with a sigh. I remember that day vividly. My brother married his lovely wife to the sound of a car bomb exploding down below. Their relationship was born in fire and death, but it grew into something beautiful. They’ve got a gorgeous little girl, and they’re still madly in love with each other.
The wedding planner, some random woman the Whelan clan hired, pokes her head in the door. “Ten minutes. How’s the bride feeling?”
“Great,” I snap at her and instantly feel like a jerk.
Lucy’s a little more diplomatic. “She’ll be totally fine. Thanks for the warning.”
The planner smiles and quickly retreats, leaving us alone again.
I stare in the mirror. Everything is just right. My hair, the color of my lips, my eyes, the dress, everything, and none of that changes how I feel.
None of that fixes the dread.
Lucy pours me a glass of champagne. I accept it and drink half down.
“When did you know?” I ask, avoiding her gaze. My stomach’s a nervous wreck.