CHAPTER TWENTY
Ava
G riffin brings Ares and me to a sunroom overlooking a nice manicured yard with square stones inlaid to make the whole space look like a checkerboard. Three bricked walls make up the fence line between the neighbors on all sides. And I immediately consider if I can scale those walls.
Then where will I go?
Griffin mentioned Brandon’s allies are out there, and his death needs to be announced. I doubt he’ll credit me for the kill to protect me. But Brandon is dead because of me and his allies will want me dead regardless.
Shit, it looks like I’m safe here for the foreseeable future.
“Do you want me to stay while you talk to your brother?” Griffin asks like he’s on my side.
Running a hand through my dull hair from a shower where I washed it with a bar of soap, I blink up at Griffin.
I just shake my head, but as he walks away, I squeak out, “Thank you, Griffin.”
He freezes and turns to me, but looks at Ares like this fractured submission is some kind of massive victory. “You’re very welcome, Ava.”
The plate-glass door to the sunroom clicks shut, and I face my brother. “Where were you?”
He cinches his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Why did he rescue me and not you?” I don’t want to owe Griffin anything. “That’s a debt I have to pay because I have honor.”
“We didn’t know where you were. No one did.” He circles me. “The Quinlans are keen investigators. Something we don’t have. And even they took months to find you.”
I struggle to remember the bits and pieces of information that everyone slammed into me today. All that sticks is how long Griffin and his brothers knew where I was. Or rather, where Brandon was.
We got to that broken-down apartment building in the middle of the night nearly a month ago, after moving around. His cash was running out, so someone found the abandoned building and next, I was tied up against a pipe in that basement while they built a cage.
But I won’t bemoan any of that and look weak to Ares. “Griffin doesn’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry him.”
“That is why it’s an arranged marriage. I agreed. He agreed.” Ares stands over me. “As soon as Troi died, and Griffin stepped in as head of that family, with word of a marriage deal, tensions calmed. And your abduction by Troi’s bastard finally ignited sympathy in their cold blue eyes.”
“Leave it to you to take advantage of that situation and milk it.”
“Leave it to me?” He fingers my crunchy, air-dried hair. “We have the same blood running in our veins. We’re more alike than you and Alexander ever were.”
I’m so tempted to ask him if he would have done what Alexander did, sent me away. Or hand me over. Oh yeah, he’s handing me over right now! “Whatever.”
“Battle lines are clearer than ever before. Those who openly mourn Brandon’s death will be taken out.”
“Can I—”
“No.”
“You don’t know what I’m going to ask.” Every second that I’m safe, warm, and in clean clothes, my strength comes back.
Ares steps back. “I’ll take the marriage deal off the table right now if you tell me to my face that you weren’t going to ask if you could take them out.”
I could lie, but he knows me. “Damn right, I want to take them out. They’re the reason I stayed abducted. All those loyalists.”
Ares smiles. “You belong to Griffin. If he says you can ride along and swing a bat, shoot a few rounds, blow a few heads off, be my guest.”
I scoff and look out the window at the pretty yard, doubting any of that will happen, no matter how cool Griffin is. My life is going to be planting daffodils to make table arrangements so I can serve my husband dinner wearing pearls.
Kill. Me. Now.
“I’ll talk to my fiancé, ” I say, owning Griffin because I think it will anger Ares.
And... Yeah, that ticks my brother’s jaw. “I’m not sure if you’re playing with me, Ava. Let me remind you of that billion-dollar land deal.”
There’s a price tag on this peace. And I’m the collateral.
“How’s that going?” I figure I’d ask.
“It’s going, and we’ll leave it at that.”
“Because I’m a woman?”
“Because you’re an assassin and you don’t give a fuck about paperwork.”
“Finally.” I throw my hands up. “Take me home. Get me out of this. No one’s going to fall for the lovey-dovey We Are Family anthem.”
“That is where you’re wrong. The Irish aren’t bankers with Crypto accounts, taking selfies for their Instagram. These are salt-of-the-earth people who believe in loyalty, family, and promises. Ava, I stopped a war your brother died fighting.”
“My brother...” I shake my head.
“Blood isn’t running in the streets every morning from the gang violence overnight,” he keeps going. “It’s quiet. And I’m fucking tired. You will marry Griffin and—”
“Am I really safe?”
“From the Irish?” He looks around. “You’ve been here for an hour and you’re still alive.”
I’m ready to argue more, but Atlas and Ambrose walk into the solarium.
Ambrose rushes to me. “Fuck, Ava.” Hugging me, his squeeze feels genuine.
Only in his arms do tears threaten to leak from my eyes. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“You look terrible,” Atlas says and glances at Ares who stands there with cold eyes.
Griffin’s brothers have been more polite to me than Ares, and they’re supposed to be the savages. I cannot wait for a woman to bring Ares to his knees.
“Are we killing anyone today over what they did to her?” Ambrose bares his teeth.
“No. Not today,” Ares answers.
“Griff said we’re meeting here tomorrow at noon?” Atlas asks Ares.
I snicker into my hand. So much for the time Ares wanted.
“Griff?” Ares roars. “He’s Griff to you?”
“Calm down, God of War,” Atlas toys with him.
Ares snorts. “We will talk privately about how pretentious they are with this Quinlan Empire . We are the Gods in this equation.”
It hits me, my last name will be Quinlan. And if my husband runs an empire, that makes me an empress.
If I recall, plenty of those were killed off, except ones married to strong emperors.