Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
KIERAN
Riley wants a contract, and something about that doesn’t sit right with me.
She says she wants everything in writing to protect herself from me. As if I’m the one with something to hide.
But if anyone is going to be the one to get stabbed in the back, it’s going to be me. She’s Declan Walsh’s daughter, after all. That blood runs deep, no matter how many pretty speeches she gives about not being like her father.
Maybe Ronan’s ready to forget that because she showed up on his doorstep looking helpless and scared, but I’m not him.
I don’t forget.
Her timing is a little too convenient if you ask me. I mean, she shows up only a few weeks after Ronan shot her father dead, and now my brother is handing over access to our family with only a sob story to go on?
I’m not buying it, and I’m tired of pretending I do.
By the time morning comes around, I’ve already decided I’m not going to let this go.
I show up at Ronan’s office at Sullivan Investments unannounced with a couple of black coffees in hand in the hopes of getting him to finally see sense after a full night's sleep.
The office is vast, with its floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the New York skyline.
I haven’t been here since my father died, and to my surprise, it looks exactly the same. I would have thought Ronan would have gutted the place and brought in his own things, but no.
He’s sitting behind the enormous glass desk in the leather chair that our father occupied for over three decades, which feels like a kick in the teeth.
But that’s an argument for another day.
“You’re not getting out of this marriage,” Ronan says as I walk in unannounced.
He doesn’t even look up from his computer, which only pisses me off.
“I know.” I shut the glass door behind me with my foot.
“Then, why are you here?”
“What? Am I not allowed to bring my brother coffee?”
Ronan glances up at me then and frowns. When he doesn’t say anything, I let out a long exhale.
“All right, fine. I’m here to talk about Riley.”
Ronan sighs, shutting down his laptop and leaning back in his chair. “I figured as much. What has she done?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay. Then, what’s the problem?”
“She wants a contract.”
“So, call Jackson.”
“That’s not the issue.” I take a seat across from him and set the two coffee cups down. “I already got the three of us an appointment this afternoon to sit down and hash out the details of our arrangement.”
“I’m failing to see this issue.”
“The fact that she wants one at all is suspicious.”
“Why? Ciara and I had a contract.”
“Will you just quit making rational arguments for a second and listen to me?”
Ronan leans forward and takes one of the coffees, waving a hand to let me continue.
“She just showed up in the middle of the night, dropped a few breadcrumbs about Sean, and now we’re bending over backwards to keep her safe.”
Ronan exhales and sets his coffee down on the glass desk.
“You’re still stuck on this?”
“I’m not stuck on anything. I’m saying maybe we shouldn’t rush to trust someone who’s been raised by one of our biggest rivals. You think Declan didn’t teach her anything? You think she hasn’t learned how to manipulate people?”
“You think I’m being manipulated?”
“I think Riley is smart and desperate, which makes her dangerous. You’d do well to remember that.”
Ronan fixes me with a steady look. “You need to let this grudge go, Kieran.”
“It’s not a grudge.”
“No? Then, what is it?”
I glare at Ronan.
I knew that this conversation would be pointless, and yet a part of me still hoped that he would listen to me not as the head of this family but as my brother. Though, I should have known better. Because there’s not much difference between the two these days.
Maybe there never was.
“I really don’t have time to convince you to do the right thing for this family.
Look, I don’t need you to like Riley. Hell, you don’t even have to be nice to her.
But you will honor the deal we made because if she gives us real evidence on Sean, this whole thing becomes worth it.
So, trust her, or don’t trust her; I really don’t care. Just play your part.”
Ronan opens up his computer in a silent dismissal.
I get to my feet and leave his office feeling like a disgraced school kid who got sent to the principal's office.
The moment I step back outside on the sidewalk, I pull out my phone and make a call.
It’s easy for Ronan to say to just let this go, but he’s not the one who’s going to be living with Declan Walsh’s daughter for the foreseeable future.
I know I’m right about Riley. I just need to prove it, and there’s only one person who can help me.
“Whose legs do I need to break?”
Aiden Clark is an ex-cop turned private investigator. When he realized the badge didn’t pay half as well as the dirty jobs, he decided to come over to our side, taking on the kind of cases that never make it to court.
“No one’s right now. But I do need a favor.” I start making my way through the onslaught of pedestrians.
It’s only a ten-minute walk from Sullivan Investments to my penthouse, but it’s also peak tourist time in New York, which means I’ll be lucky if I make it home in an hour.
“How serious are we talking?”
“I need this one off the books.”
“You got a name?”
“Yeah, Riley Walsh.”
“As in Declan Walsh’s kid?”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, shit. This just got interesting.”
“I need to know if she’s clean.”
“I’m guessing not just from STDs?” Aiden chuckles. “You planning on sticking your cock in places you shouldn’t, Sullivan?"
“Not if I can help it. But I want a full background check. Pull her high school transcripts if you have to. If there’s dirt, I want to know about it. Oh, and Aiden? Keep this to yourself.”
“I assume your brother doesn’t know you’re calling me.”
“Ronan’s made his choice, and I’m making mine.”
“You got it. I’ll dig around and see what I can find. It might take a couple of days.”
“That’s fine. Just don’t leave anything out.”
I hang up and tuck my phone into my pocket, feeling marginally better.
If Riley’s hiding something, Aiden will find it. And if she’s not? Well, then maybe I’ll start believing that she’s really on our side.
I decide to take a few detours on my way home and stop in on a few of the clubs that my brothers and I own. Some of them are above board, but the majority of them serve as fronts for various business ventures that we prefer to keep off the books.
By the time I get home, it’s almost lunchtime. I made an appointment with our family’s lawyer for this afternoon, so I can get him working on this ridiculous contract for Riley.
Right now, she feels like a live grenade who’s been strategically placed inside my apartment, and I want to stick a pin in whatever secret plans she has as soon as possible.
When I step off the elevator into the penthouse, I find Riley sitting at the kitchen island, eating a turkey sandwich.
I try not to bristle at the sight of her tucking into all of my groceries that I have specifically brought in from my favorite delis throughout New York.
It’s bad enough that she’s staying with me, but now she’s eating my food?
This girl is walking a very thin line.
“Finish up. We have to go.”
“Where?” she asks through a mouthful of food.
“You wanted a contract, so I’m getting you a contract. Let’s go before I change my mind.”
Riley hastily climbs off the stool, which instantly draws my attention to the fact she’s wearing another one of those pastel-colored tennis skirts that shows off her long, toned legs.
Her skin is pale and creamy and ridiculously smooth, and I get the sudden urge to run my hands all over those thighs.
As my eyes trail up her body, I notice for the first time since she arrived that she’s not wearing her enormous hoodie. Instead, she’s wearing a matching strappy tank top in the same shade of lavender, and it turns out that Riley Walsh has quite the rack on her.
“Are you done?” She folds her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide her breasts, but it only pushes them together until they’re practically spilling out of her top.
“Not even a little.” I let my lips pull up into a smirk as I eye the swell of her breasts.
“Pig.”
“I don’t recall calling you such horrible slurs when you were checking me out yesterday.”
Riley’s eyes widen as her cheeks flood with color. “I was not checking you out!”
“Sure, you weren’t.”
“Unlike you, I don’t objectify people.”
I purposefully let my eyes roam over her outfit once again just to piss her off. “You’re welcome to objectify me all you want, princess.”
“Urgh, enough with the princess crap. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly dripping in diamonds and gold.”
I tuck my hands into my pockets. “Is that your way of saying that you want a different nickname?”
Riley Walsh might be trying to implode my life, but I can’t deny that winding her up is starting to quickly become a favorite pastime of mine.
“I’d rather you just called me Riley or nothing at all.”
“How about Wifey instead?”
Riley’s eyes turn murderous as she places her hands on her hips, once again drawing my attention to her mouthwatering curves.
“Excuse me?”
“What? You’re going to be my wife, after all. You might as well embrace it.”
“We’re pretending. And that nickname is obscene.”
“Obscene?” I laugh under my breath. “Sweetheart, if you think Wifey is obscene, you’re gonna have a real hard time surviving this marriage. But fine, what about Sugar Lips?”
“I will smother you in your sleep.”
“Kinky.”
“Are you always this vulgar?”
“I’m not sure, but I’d be willing to test the theory.”
“You know what? Go back to Princess. At least that one doesn’t make me want to scream.”
“I’m sure it could, in the right context…”
Her breath hitches, and I know I’ve taken the upper hand.
Riley Walsh might think she has all the power here, but I’m starting to learn which buttons to push that have her body reacting to me in a way that I know makes her want to submit.
While I have absolutely no intention of taking her to my bed, that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with her outside of the bedroom…
“As much as I’m enjoying this little back and forth, we need to get going. My lawyer bills by the second, and unless you’re willing to cover the check, I suggest you get your ass in the damn car.”
Riley scowls before snatching up the second half of her sandwich and coming to meet me by the elevator.
“You’re not eating that in my car.”
“But I’m hungry.” She looks up at me under her lashes.
“You can starve.” I’m not falling for the sad puppy eyes.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I snatch the remaining half of a sandwich out of her hand and wolf it down myself.
“Kieran! What the hell!”
“I was hungry,” I say with my mouth full.
“I’m putting a clause in this contract that protects all of my future sandwiches from your greedy hands,” she mutters under her breath as we step onto the elevator, and I smother a laugh.
Ronan, Riley, and I sit at the conference table at a discreet office downtown while Jackson flips through a stack of printed documents.
The last thing we need is for Sean O’Keefe to catch wind of the fact Riley is with us before our deal has been solidified in writing.
The heat from my earlier discussion with Ronan still taints the air between us, so we keep quiet, and Riley looks like she’s seconds away from throwing up or passing out. Or both.
“I’ve drafted the preliminary framework.” Jackson slides copies to each of us. “We’ll keep it simple with no shared assets and no legal entanglements beyond the appearance of marriage. We’re not trying to actually bind you together, but we do need to make it look convincing.”
Riley glances at me before flipping through her copy, but I keep my gaze on Jackson.
I reach up and undo another button on my shirt, the collar suddenly feeling too tight around my neck.
“As far as your story goes, we’re keeping it straightforward,” Jackson continues. “You and Miss Walsh have been dating in secret for months, but her family’s attempts to force her into a marriage pushed you to make things official. Romantic getaway, elopement, that sort of thing.”
“And the paperwork?”
“Brennan’s handling it,” Ronan chimes in. “We’ll have a marriage certificate that will pass inspection, along with travel records and staged photos. If Sean O’Keefe wants to question it, he’ll find nothing but confirmation.”
“And what about her family?” Though I already know the answer.
“I’ll talk to them myself and make it known that supporting this marriage is in their best interest.”
I lean back in my chair. “And if they don’t?”
“Then they can take their chances with the consequences.”
There’s a ping from Ronan’s phone on the table. When he turns it over to check the notification, he mutters a curse before getting to his feet.
“I’m late for Ciara’s OBGYN appointment. Are you good to finish this with Jackson?”
“Yeah. We’re pretty much done anyway.”
Jackson gives a small nod. “I’ll finalize the contract and send it to both of you for review tonight.”
I sneak a glance at Riley and notice the tension in her shoulders.
She’s trying to keep it together, but it’s clear as day that she’s out of her depth.
Good.
Maybe that will keep her honest.