Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I nod, feigning casualness. "Sure. Sure. But it's not serious, right? Isn't that, like, your whole thing? Not being serious?"
She takes another swig, avoiding my eyes. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.
"Uh. It's... pretty serious," she finally admits.
I frown, a genuine reaction. This complicates things. I was expecting a casual fling I could easily persuade her to end. "But you don't do serious."
She tilts her head at me. "What the fuck, Mads? Why do you care?"
I exhale hard and glance toward the door, debating how to play this. The truth? A partial truth? A complete lie? I decide on something close to the truth---she'll sense if I'm completely bullshitting her, and I need her to believe me.
I lean in close, dropping my voice low, making each word sharp and precise.
"Look, I'm sorry, baby girl, but I need you to break it off with the priest. For your brother's sake."
Her expression changes instantly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What the fuck does that mean?"
I give her a hard look, frustration bubbling up. This would be so much easier if she would just do as she's told without questioning everything.
"Bad guy math," I say, improvising. "You had to go play hero at that dumb Christmas thing and drag your big dumb boyfriend into the spotlight with you and me. Well, guess what?"
I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest, the defensive posture helping me feel more in control. "Some not-so-nice people saw that photo. People I'd rather keep avoiding."
She blinks, looking confused. "We were only out there because of you!" She waves her arm wildly.
"I had it handled!" I wave mine back, matching her dramatic gesture. In truth, I didn't have anything handled that night. I was panicking, desperate to get away from the cameras. But she doesn't need to know that. "Before you brought the fucking Avengers outside and made a front-page-worthy spectacle."
"Who even are these people?" she demands. "And why the fuck would they care about me?"
I level her with a flat look. This is where I need to start spinning my tale. I need to make it convincing enough that she'll do what I want, but vague enough that I don't reveal too much about Pavel or the real danger.
"They don't care about you, dumbass. They care about him. Heir to the richest man alive? Ring any bells?"
I finally remembered why the name Blackwolf was so familiar. Okay, Google helped. But Jesus. Who knew Moira was sneaking around with the son of the richest man in the world without any of us noticing?
Her face tells me she's starting to understand.
"But he gave up his inheritance," she argues weakly.
I laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "Is that what he told you? Because Daddy Warbucks apparently disagrees. Bane is still the heir apparent."
She shakes her head stubbornly. "Okay, fine. Still don't see what any of this has to do with me."
I exhale slowly, like I'm explaining something to a child. "I don't know, blackmail? Someone else wants you out of the way so they can marry their pet chess piece off to Bane? There could be a hundred reasons."
I lean in closer, dropping my voice even lower. The next part is mostly true, and the fear coloring my words is genuine. "All I do know is that the charming sociopaths my father used to make me work for have now tracked me down. And they're working for someone who wants you out of the picture. They've given me a nice little ultimatum: get you to dump the priest and disappear, or they kill me, Domhnall, and you."
She stares at me, speechless.
I stare back, letting the gravity of my words sink in.
"I'm thinking we call it 'rehab,' and you go sip piña coladas on a beach somewhere. Maybe the Riviera. I hear it's nice in the spring."
She lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Kill us?"
"Did I fucking stutter?" I respond, not blinking. I need her to understand how serious this is. Because it is deadly serious, just not in the way I'm telling her.
I can see the realization dawning on her face as she processes what I'm saying. This isn't just some abstract threat; this is real life. Her life.
She slams her hands on the table. "What the fuck did you get us into?!"
I shake my head, my mouth set in a hard line. "Oh, you got yourself into this one all on your own, baby girl. You should be grateful for my connections. At least I've got a way to get us out."
She glares at me, her eyes searching my face. "You're not who I thought you were."
The accusation stings more than it should. I keep my face hard, unreadable. "I never am."
She sucks in a breath, and I can see her pulse racing at her throat. "Do you even love Domhn?"