Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 120240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
I stop at the bottom of the stairs.
Why am I disappointed it isn’t… him?
Am I falling for him?
Bronwyn McCarthy stands in our foyer like a beam of light in a dark room. She’s wearing a soft-pink coat and cream-colored trousers, her light brown hair perfectly styled in loose waves. She looks like she stepped out of a magazine, effortlessly elegant in that way I’ve never managed.
“Hiya,” she says softly, offering a gentle smile.
“Hiya,” I echo, suddenly aware of how disheveled I must look.
My mother hovers nearby, clearly uncomfortable. The McCarthys don’t just drop by. This isn’t how our families operate.
“I’ll leave you girls to it,” my mother says, though her tone suggests she’d rather stay and spy. She disappears into the kitchen, but I know she’s listening.
“Would you like to come up to my room?” I ask quietly. Is that what people do?
Bronwyn nods, relief flashing across her face.
I lead her upstairs and close the door behind us. My room is exactly as I left it this morning—books stacked on every surface, my laptop open on the bed, a half-drunk cup of tea gone cold on the nightstand.
“Sorry about the mess,” I mutter, shoving a pile of clothes off the chair so she can sit.
“Don’t apologize. This is lovely.” She settles into the chair with the kind of grace that seems innate to her. “Your room suits you.”
I perch on the edge of my bed, tucking my feet under me. “Not like yours, I imagine.”
“Mine’s all white and gold. Looks like a hotel room.” She wrinkles her nose slightly. “This actually feels lived in. I like it.”
She sighs and smiles, then asks the last thing I expect her to.
“How are you? After… everything?”
My cheeks flush. Does she know I went to The Craic? Does the whole family know?
“I’m fine,” I say automatically.
“Erin.” Her voice is kind but firm. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” She smiles in a way that makes me feel weirdly emotional. “We’re going to be sisters.”
Why haven’t I thought of that before now? She’s right, of course. I’m not just marrying Cavin. I’m marrying into the whole family. I’ll have sisters and, for the first time in my life… brothers.
Oh god.
“I don’t know if I’m fine,” I admit quietly. “I don’t know what I am. It’s just a bit much.”
She nods slowly. “That’s fair. This is… a lot. All of it.”
“Did Cavin send you?” The question comes out sharper than I intended.
“No.” She reaches into her handbag and pulls out an envelope—a thick manila envelope that looks stuffed full. “Well, yes and no. He asked me to bring you this.”
She hands me the envelope.
It’s heavy. Substantial.
“What is it?” I ask, though something in my gut already knows.
“Open it.”
My fingers fumble with the clasp. I pull out the contents, and my breath catches.
Money. Stacks of it. Euros, neatly bundled in groups of five hundred.
“What—” I can’t finish the sentence.
“It’s eighteen thousand euros,” Bronwyn says quietly. “He wanted you to have it.”
I stare at the money in my lap like it might bite me. “Why?”
“He said to tell you it’s wedding money. For shopping, or whatever you need. But Erin…” She leans forward, her blue eyes intense. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s his fight purse. From the other night.”
The room tilts slightly. “His what?”
“He went to the ring… after whatever happened at the club. He fought Tommy O’Sullivan and won. This is what he earned.”
My mind races. I saw him. I saw him in that ring, bare-chested and bloody, fighting like something feral and beautiful and terrifying. I left quickly because I couldn’t process what I was feeling.
But I could’ve watched Cavin fight forever.
“He gave me his fight money?” My voice sounds small.
“All of it. Every cent.” Bronwyn’s expression is soft. “He made me promise to tell you it was from me. That it was family money or wedding money or whatever would make you take it.”
“But you’re telling me the truth.”
“Because you deserve the truth.” She reaches out and touches my hand. “Erin, my brother is… complicated. He’s rough and violent, and he’s done things that would horrify you. But he’s also…” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “He’s trying. In his own broken way, he’s trying. And soon, you’ll be his. His to protect. I think this is one way of him doing that. He probably knows that even though your family has money, it isn’t necessarily yours. But this is.”
She rises. “Have some fun with it, Erin. Do some shopping.”
“Buy some of the fancy yarn and the nice puzzles, hmm?” I say, then quickly wish I could take the words back. Was that too awkward? But she only laughs, kisses my cheeks, and heads to the door.
“I’m sorry, I need to go. Just wanted to give this to you in person.”
I stare at the money. I know exactly what I’m going to do with it. And I smile to myself.