I will own her body, her broken heart, her unwavering spirit.
I’ll help her take her rightful place in her family’s business while satisfying my craving for her.
Chapter 15
WINTER
Stepping off the plane, the ground feels foreign beneath my feet. A month ago, this was home. Everything was familiar.
Now it’s a reminder of what I’ve lost.
I keep my head held high as I walk to the mansion. The front door opens, and Dana, the housekeeper, begins to smile until she sees the three men behind me. Her eyes dart back to mine, and I see the questions form on her face.
I stop in front of her and shake my head. “It’s just me. They’re dead.”
Dana’s lips part with shock, and unable to care about her feelings, I start to walk toward the stairs. I climb them with heavy feet, and only once I turn down the hallway, and I’m out of sight, do I stop again.
The devastation of the past twenty-four hours pulverizes my heart into a bloody mess in my chest.
My feet begin to move, and I find myself opening Dad’s bedroom door. My eyes scan over his belongings, and it increases the incessant ache in my chest.
He was mostly gone on business throughout my life, but the time we did spend together was priceless.
I take the key out of the lock, and pulling the door shut, I lock it. I walk to Sean’s room, and this time I step inside.
God, I can still smell him.
I pick up the shirt lying next to the laundry basket and stare at it.
I’m so sorry, Sean.
My chin begins to quiver as tears blur my sight. Before they can fall, I set the shirt down and walk out of the room. I lock the door, not wanting anyone in their personal space.
Glancing to my left, my blurry sight focuses on Cillian’s door.
Every muscle in my face tightens as sorrow overwhelms me. My feet find their way to his room, and when I push the door open, a soft sob floats over my lips. I step inside and shut the door behind me. Slowly, I glance over his trinkets, and his favorite coat draped over the back of a chair.
There’s only one framed photo on the bedside table. It’s one Mom took. Cillian and I are walking across the backyard at our property in Ireland.
Seeing him, so young, his posture straight and ready to protect me breaks the last of my willpower. A tear spirals over my cheek, and taking a quivering breath, I glance around his room. My eyes land on his stereo system, and moving closer, I check what CD he has in.
The Wailin’ Jennys.
I select The Parting Glass and press play.
As their harmonious voices fill the air, I close my eyes, and the tears start to fall.
Cillian.
You were supposed to be with me until the very end.
My protector.
My friend.
Since my first memory, you were there. Every day.
You loved me more than anyone.
How am I supposed to do this without you?
You didn’t teach me how to live without you.
My sorrow engulfs me as my shoulders begin to jerk, and I allow myself to mourn the loss of the person I loved above all else.
As the last chords of the song play, I whisper, “Goodnight, Cillian.”
The door slams open behind me, and I glance over my shoulder as Damien stalks inside Cillian’s sacred space.
“I told you to never leave my side,” he growls at me.
I turn to face him, but everything in me is too raw.
Damien’s eyes drift over my face, and then he closes the distance between us and yanks me to his body.
Everything in me wants to rest my head against his chest, but knowing I can’t, I push against him and glare up at him. “I don’t need your pity.”
His eyes lock with mine, and they don’t seem as cold. “You’ve suffered an unspeakable loss, Winter. This isn’t pity. This is me showing you, you’re not alone. You have my loyalty.”
“Your job description doesn’t include comforting me,” I murmur, still trying to regain control over the sorrow.
Damien just stares at me, and then he slightly tilts his head. “This isn’t just a job for me. I have a personal interest.”
I begin to nod, letting out a humorless burst of laughter. “Right. The debt I owe you.”
“Damien. Winter,” Demitri calls from the hallway.
“Here,” Damien answers as he steps away from me.
Not wanting them in Cillian’s room, I turn off the stereo and walk out into the hallway. As soon as Damien steps out of the room, I pull the door shut and lock it. I pocket the three keys, then turn to Demitri.
“Alexei wants to talk,” he mutters.
Damien waits for me to follow after his brother, and as we walk down the hallway, I begin to feel on edge.
Both the Vetrovs and a Koslov are in my home. Pins and needles slowly spread over my body when I realize my life depends on the most dangerous men in the world.
I have no one on my side. The void Cillian and my family have left has changed my entire world.
Demitri leads us to the dining room where Alexei’s taken my father’s place at the head of the table. His deadly eyes lock on me, and I stop on the other side of the long table.
“Sit.”
Demitri takes a seat on Alexei’s right. When I remain standing, Damien places his hand on my lower back, giving me a soft nudge.
I shake my head. “I’ll stand.”
This is it. This is where Alexei makes his demands, and there’s nothing I can do. He has all the power.
“I’ll help,” he begins.
“What’s your fee?” I ask, not knowing if I can even afford him. Maybe if I sell the island or the property in Ireland? But it can take months or even years to find a buyer and to free up the money.
Alexei’s eyes slowly drift between Damien and me, then he says, “A partnership.” A slight frown forms on my forehead, but before I can say anything, Alexei continues, “If I have an interest in your business, it will give me the incentive to protect it.”
My mind begins to race. I did not expect him to say that. “How much?” I manage to ask.
“Fifty percent.”
God.
Will I be selling my soul to the devil if I agree?
I need them more than they need me, though. I don’t have much of a choice. I know nothing about the business. I need their protection. I need someone to show me the smuggling routes. I can’t deal with the tribes on my own. They’ll probably kill me during the first meeting.
Alexei rises to his feet, and with his eyes burning on me, he says, “I want an alliance, and you’re in no position to decline.”
I know. God, I know.
“Fifty percent of your business for the protection of the Vetrovs and the Koslovs. You’ll be untouchable. Your business will survive. You have everything to gain.”
Everything he says is the truth. I have no choice, but I can’t bring myself to open my mouth even though I have no other option but to agree.
“A marriage between you and Damien.” Alexei’s words don’t register at first.
“What?” the word drifts over my lips.
“A marriage,” Alexei repeats as he begins to walk toward me. “An alliance between the Hemsleys and the Vetrovs. Damien gets half of the business. He’ll run it on my behalf once we’ve taken care of your Blanco problem.”