Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Anger surges through me. Without thinking, I tangle my fingers in her long red hair and fist the locks, pulling her head back so she’s looking directly at me. “Ye’re not a mother. Ye left her to fend for herself with Patrick. Do ye know what the fucker did to her? And now ye want to come in here and order me around? I’m goin’ ta to make Miren cry, and scream, and she’s goin’ ta feckin’ claw at my skin. And ye know how I’m goin’ ta do that? When I fuck her, over and over again. Because she wants me to.”
Sinéad spits in my face. It hits my cheek. “Ye feckin’ touch her, and I’ll have ye killed. You’ll be feckin’ tortured before ye take yer final feckin’ breath!” The deep, familiar accent returns in her angry retort.
“There it is. There’s the real Sinéad Bragan.”
Offering her a smile, I rise to full height before swiping the saliva from my cheek. Then I press the blade to hers. A worthy mother would have taken her daughter out of love, not out of fear of losing her fuckin’ organisation.
“Where is Patrick?” I ask, even though I’m sure she won’t tell me. I know for a fact she knows where he is because he’s the one she’s been hidin’ from. The woman isn’t stupid.
“Gone.”
“Where?”
She looks up at me as I press the blade into her face. I’m not afraid of makin’ someone talk, especially if the person deserves it. The crimson drips over my fingers and the blade, but I don’t let up. I’ll happily bleed her out right here. It’s the first time I’ve ever hurt a woman. Doesn’t matter who she is, but I know it will be the last time.
For the first time in my life, I’m livin’ up to the dark side of the nickname Ma gave me.
“You don’t realise it. You’re too fuckin’ focused on yer plan for revenge to see the bigger picture here, Monster,” she tells me, but I’m still not sure what the feck she’s talkin’ about. “
“What bigger picture? My folks are dead because of ye.”
“It’s not about you, and it’s not about your folks. It’s about the Royal Bastards. He won’t hurt Miren, and if she’s with you, you’re probably safe. But I’ll tell you somethin’ for nothin’—those girls at your club, watch out because a snake is beautiful to some and lethal to others,” Sinéad tells me before an explosion is set off outside, and I forget about the woman before me and rush out to the one who’s stolen my feckin’ heart.
The two guards who arrived with Sinéad are dead. My two men are on the ground, but they’re alive. The explosion was from the small plane Sinéad arrived in. Thankfully, Miren was beside the hangar when it went off.
Racer nears me, with Miren following close behind. “What the feck happened?” I ask.
My boyo shrugs. “Don’t know. One of the guards had a phone ringin’ incessantly. We moved away from him because it was annoyin’ us, and then suddenly, there’s a feckin’ explosion in the front of the plane. I didn’t see anyone inside, and nobody walked out, so it must have been done before her flight took off.”
We head back into the hangar. I’m tense, my shoulders are hunched, and my hands are fisted. The need for violence is coursin’ through me. I want to kill someone. The woman who’s bound to the chair in front of me is the only person who can give me answers. The bomb would have killed her if they were still in the air. She must have known about it.
Sinéad stares at me before she smiles as I near her, and she says, “I would recommend you go home because the shite is about to hit the fan.”
Miren gasps at her mother’s accent. It’s probably the first time she’s ever heard it. “How…?”
Sinéad looks at her daughter. “I had such high hopes for you,” she tells her. Sirens in the distance alert me that we need to go. When we planned our trip to intercept Sinéad, I called our contact at Scotland Yard. No doubt MI5 will be on their way too. “Your father would have killed you the moment you were born had he known about the will. But now it’s done. You’re free. I did all this for you.”
“Free from what?” Miren asks as confusion creases her brow.
“An heir to a throne is only in line if another isn’t stepping up to take the lead.” Her words make no sense. Miren is her only daughter. There’s no son, we looked into both Sinéad and Patrick.
“I should kill ye fer spoutin’ yer shite,” I tell her as I look down at the woman who destroyed my life. “But rottin’ in prison is just as grand. Ye’ll never get out. Life in there will ensure ye pay, day in and day out. And as you get older, and the shitehole you’re goin’ ta makes you want to kill yerself, I hope you can’t. I hope that you live to yer last breath, and the guilt eats away at ye until you can’t think straight.”