Chapter 3
CORMAC
A private flight to Ireland is just one of the perks of having a wealthy family.
True, the jet isn’t exactly mine. I had to rent it out from a company, but the fact that I’m able to drop this amount of money for private accommodation is a treat I’m sure many others will never get to experience.
Instead of being relaxed or at ease as we make our way to Ireland, I can’t get my mind to shut off. I rehearse what I will say to my father over and over again. Each time, I change certain aspects to further prove my point and to anticipate what he will say.
The more I agonize over the conversation I’m sure he isn’t expecting, the more anxious I get. By the time the plane touches down on the tarmac in Cork, I’m nothing more than a ball of nerves.
Killian offered to come with me when I told him that I was going to fly over here, but I turned him down. Right now, I wish I would’ve taken him up on the offer. I could use some support. Even if I already know what’s going to happen.
My father is going to get one look at me and hear nothing of what I have to say, but he’ll still find a way to convince me that his plan is the best plan. That my life as a single bachelor is better being over.
There are only a few people at the airport, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t want to deal with the stares. I’ve spent so long staying away from them. Every time someone looks at my face, it feels like the burn starts all over again.
I manage to arrange for a car to pick me up and finally feel a bit more at ease when I’m in the back seat.
There’s a partition, and the back of the car is dark.
The windows are tinted, and the upholstery is all inky black.
Now that I feel safe, knowing no one can see me, I’m able to take in my surroundings as they pass by the windows.
Ireland feels like another world. The last time I was here was after my mother died.
Father decided that she would want to be buried here, in her birthplace.
I have a handful of cousins and one uncle, not that it matters.
I don’t have any sort of connection to them besides the blood running through our veins.
Still, I have to admit that the greenery of the countryside and the simplicity of the towns and folks has a bit of charm that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced at home.
“We’ll be there shortly.” The driver’s voice sounds through the intercom. The deep Irish accent solidifies the fact that I’m not in America any longer.
I don’t respond.
There’s no need.
No more than five minutes later, we’re turning down a dirt road. Sheep and goats roam around perfectly gated areas.
There’s a scattering of trees, but nothing that would block the line of sight to the house. The windows themselves are covered on the inside, I’m guessing with dark drapes. My father has always been big on privacy. He never wanted anyone to see anything he didn’t want them to see.
It’s a quirk I’ve carried with me my entire life.
The car pulls into an empty space right in front, and if I ever wondered whether or not my father was still as serious about his security as before, the moment I step out of the car I have the answer.
Four large men, all of them holding weapons, converge on me. The car behind me reverses so fast its tires skid and kick up dirt as the driver rushes to get away.
“Who are you?” one of the men barks in my direction.
I sigh, clenching my teeth so hard I swear I crack one of my back teeth.
“I’m Cormac O’Sullivan. Niall’s son.” I announce and wait for any form of recognition.
I don’t get it.
In fact, the group of them all look at me as if they had no idea the man they were here to protect fathered any children. One of the guards in the back steps away, pressing a finger to his ear and talking. I assume to whoever is in the house closest to my father.
The wait seems endless as I rethink all the reasons I was so determined to come over here and do this.
“Turn your head.” The guard in the back calls out. Revulsion gurgles up inside of me. Of course this is how my father would prove I am who I say I am.
His mark.
Slowly, I turn my head and show the group of them the burn I’ve been trying so hard to keep from being the center of attention.
This meeting is already starting off on the wrong foot. I should’ve expected my father to humiliate me. It’s just one of the many ways he likes to show he still has all the power.
From the corner of my eye, I see the men in front of me fight back looks of revulsion. I do my best not to let it get to me, but it still stings.
“Aye, that’s him.” The one who had to check in with whoever was on the other end of the intercom says, and with that, everyone moves aside and lets me enter the house.
The minute I step foot inside the large home, it hits me how similar this place is to the mansion back in the States. Sure, it’s not as big, but the décor is almost identical.
Part of me wonders why my father would choose to decorate like this. Is it because there’s a sense of nostalgia, or is it simply because he wants a reminder of some of the evil deeds he’s done in the past?
I shudder slightly as I make my way down the hall, praying that the ghosts I’ve left back home haven’t found a way to follow me here.
My father steps out of a side room, stopping me in the hall. “I’d like to say that this was a welcome surprise, but you’ve interrupted an important meeting.” He glares at me.
“Apologies. I thought this conversation would be better to have in person.” I pull my shoulders back, unwilling to show him any fear.
“So be it.” He waves me forward, and I follow him into a room that looks to be used as an office.
In the corner is a woman. She is dressed in a see-through gown with bright red lipstick and unnatural red hair. She looks more like a clown than a beautiful woman. Her beauty could never compare to my mother’s. I think my father must know that. Maybe he’s chosen to spend time with her on purpose.
“You can wait in the room. I’ll be along shortly.” My father dismisses her, and I watch as she scurries out.
“Don’t worry, there’s no stepmother in your future.” My father smiles at me almost gently as he takes a seat in the chair behind the desk.
“That’s good to hear. Though I’m not here to talk about your marital status, but mine.” I grab the seat on the other side, sitting up straight with my hands folded patiently on my lap. I’m trying to be as calm as possible, though everything inside me wants to rage at him.
“What about it? It’s already planned and taken care of. Honestly, you should be thanking me. I’ve managed to secure you a live-in slut to take care of your needs. It’s a gift, really.”
“A gift?” My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. There’s no possible way he could think that. “It’s not a gift I want.”
“Too bad.” He shrugs.
“Father, choosing a wife for me is going to do nothing but bring problems. I can take care of my part of the family business without a ball and chain holding me back. It’s foolish to have a stranger in the house with me.”
“She won’t be a stranger. She’s going to be your wife. There’s a difference.”
“Not to me. I don’t know this woman, and the last time I checked, her family wasn’t very happy with ours. How do you know this woman isn’t being sent in as a spy or something worse? Why take this risk?” I continue trying to fight this losing battle.
“Even if she is, you’ll be able to punish her accordingly.”
I close my eyes and let my head drop. “And if I don’t want to punish her?”
“Then she’ll be your downfall. It’s like that with women sometimes.”
The conversation is only just beginning, but I can already tell the outcome. I won’t win this battle.
“Cormac, you’re my firstborn son. It’s your duty to me and the family to further our name.
Your duty is to make this empire stronger than when you were born into it.
Brenna Doyle may not have been your first choice, but she’s a good match, at least for our purposes.
For once, stop thinking about yourself and do what needs to be done. ”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. For once? I don’t remember the last time I’ve been able to do anything for myself. All I have left that is truly mine is my solitude. Now he’s asking me to give that away too. Hasn’t he already taken enough from me?
“Of course, I want to do right by the family.” I say, giving up my useless argument.
“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Put it this way. You only have to be married to her long enough to solidify the alliance. If, after that time, you still find yourself burdened with her presence, I’ll look the other way if you get rid of her.”
My eyes jerk back up to his. Get rid of her? I’ve never been much of a mind reader, but it sounds like he just gave me permission to kill my wife after a certain amount of time.
His head tilts slightly as he continues to take in my form.
“That scar has healed up nicely. Barely noticeable.” His smile widens, and I turn my face away from him.
Of course he wants to remind me what happens to people who don’t do what he asks.
I have less of a choice in this matter than the precious Brenna Doyle.
“I’ll get the arrangements all set up at home. I just need some time.”
“Nonsense. Nothing needs to be arranged. I’ve done it all for you. You’ll be married by tonight.”
My heart drops to my feet. Tonight. I thought I had more time. So much for coming over here to talk him out of it. Seems like I just sped up my execution date.
All I can do is nod and wait for my sentence to pass.
brENNA
“Father! No!” I kick at the back seat, darting from side to side, looking for a way to get the door open. I should’ve known he was up to no good when he decided to open his wallet to get me a new dress.
Any other day I would’ve cherished the long white peasant dress that I have on, but right now it feels like it’s made of the heaviest chains.