Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aria
She was in shock. That was the only possible explanation for why she didn’t punch him in his stupidly pretty face the moment he helped her to her feet. Or for why she didn’t immediately go running for the front door when he guided her out of his basement and up to the main floor.
But even though she couldn’t find the strength to make a break for it, her gaze traveled every inch of the stunning marble floors, the curving staircase with the wrought iron scrollwork in the banister.
Soaring ceilings gave the space a much more open feel than the basement, and on the walls hung what she imagined were carefully curated pieces of art.
Everything about the home whispered of wealth. And not the new kind that begged for attention, but the old, established kind that had been accumulated over generations and simply commanded respect. Comfortable, yet powerful enough to open doors that were closed to most people.
Even her father.
If there were guards, they were well-trained enough to blend into the background, which would present a problem when planning her escape. Navigating this fortress of a house was going to be difficult enough without having to guess where his goons were hiding.
“Killian!”
Turning toward the furious voice, Aria watched in continued shock as a woman descended on them, her expression full of the same fury as her voice, her long dark hair billowing behind her with every step.
There was something familiar about her, but Aria didn’t have time to ponder it before the woman was on them, drilling a finger into Killian’s chest.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” A hint of Ireland whispered in the woman’s words, reminding Aria of how Killian had sounded the morning he’d discovered who she really was.
“I have to find out from Lochlan of all people that you had him kidnap the mother of your child and hold her hostage in our basement?”
Hope exploded in Aria’s chest, so bright and strong it was painful. Was this her guardian angel, come to rescue her?
But just as quickly as it bloomed, that hope withered and died with the woman’s next words. “I can’t believe you didn’t let me help! You know I love a good snatch and grab.”
What. The. Fuck.
Capturing the finger still jabbing him in the chest, Killian did the last thing Aria expected of him.
He smiled.
“I would have told you, but I was under the impression you were, ah, otherwise occupied this morning.”
The woman’s mouth kicked up in a smirk. “I was, indeed. But still. You could have at least texted.”
“Next time, I promise.”
Looking somewhat mollified by his words, the woman shifted her gaze to Aria, her dark eyes warming with curiosity. “Well, aren’t you a stunning little thing? I can see why my brother’s so taken with you.”
Brother. Right. She could see the resemblance now, around the eyes, though the woman’s were a deep brown rather than her brother’s vivid green. And the mouth, especially with that teasing smile on her lips.
“He’s only obsessed with me because he knocked me up.”
More of that curiosity filled the other woman’s gaze, along with a smug sort of knowledge that had Aria fighting back a wave of temper. “I’m sure he’s perfectly willing to let you believe that.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
But before she could ask, the man next to her let out what could only be described as a growl. “Behave, Reagan.”
“Why would I, when the alternative is so much more fun?”
“Reagan.”
“Oh, all right.” Rolling her eyes at her brother, Reagan reached for Aria’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you up to your room and you can tell me all about how much of an overbearing asshole my brother is.”
Beside her, Killian sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me, anyway. Give me at least an hour to get to know my future sister-in-law before you come storming the gates.”
Telling herself she was only going along with Reagan to get away from Killian, Aria let herself be led up the gorgeously curved staircase to the second floor.
“Killian’s room is that way.” Reagan pointed to a hallway to the left at the top of the stairs before turning right. “He thought you might be more comfortable with some distance between you, so you’re down this hall with me.”
Stopping in front of a closed door halfway down the hall, Reagan turned and pinned her with a look that was so reminiscent of her brother, Aria’s stomach exploded with nervous butterflies.
“But don’t let that fool you into thinking you’ll be able to slip out undetected.
I’m a very light sleeper and there will be a guard posted at your door every night. ”
“Yeah, so I’ve been told.”
Lips twitching, Reagan turned the knob, pushing the door open to reveal a stunning bedroom all done up in different shades of blue and green.
A canopy bed stood against one wall, and an image flashed in Aria’s mind of her, limbs akimbo and tied to each of the four posts while a certain dark-haired criminal worshiped every inch of her body the way he had at the club.
Praying her face wasn’t as red as it felt, Aria stepped into her room—no, scratch that.
Her prison.
Because that’s what it was. No matter how beautifully appointed it was, no matter how ridiculously comfortable that bed looked, this house was a prison and this room her cell.
Not for long. I’m getting the hell out of here as soon as humanly possible.
“I know this all probably seems very extreme.” Reagan’s voice was quieter now, soft with understanding. “But our world is one of extremes, and if Killian says this is necessary to keep you safe, then there really is no other option.”
Turning, Aria pinned her with a bland stare. “Are you always so willing to do your brother’s bidding, or am I a special case?”
A grin stretched across Reagan’s face as she shrugged and made her way over to the canopy bed, where she propped herself up against the headboard, looking for all the world like some Grecian goddess with her generous curves barely concealed by the dress slacks and white button up shirt she was wearing.
“I make it a point to give my brother hell whenever possible. But just like him, I don’t mess around when it comes to our family’s safety. ”
“I wasn’t in any danger!” All the frustration she’d felt before came rushing to the surface. Apparently the shock had worn off and she was back to righteous fury. “I was just walking to work, like I’ve done every day for months without any issue. The only person trying to kidnap me was him!”
“And he succeeded.”
Snarling at her captor, Aria paced, her movements jerky, agitated as she moved around the room. “He only succeeded because he knew exactly where I’d be and that I wouldn’t be expecting him.”
“How did he know where you would be?”
“What?” Pausing her pacing, Aria frowned at the woman on the bed watching her with an infuriatingly serene expression.
Reagan raised a dark brow. “How did he know exactly where you would be this morning?”
“Because he’s a creepy fucking stalker.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that. But even then, stalking you would only work if your movements were predictable. If you were, say, taking the same route to work every day so that anyone with enough money and interest could figure out exactly where you would be on a Friday morning at seven-thirty.”
Okay, that was a fair enough point. But as she rolled it around in her mind, the pieces didn’t quite fit. “He only found out about the baby a few days ago. He hasn’t had time to stalk me. At least not enough to learn my schedule.”
Unless… “Oh my god. Has he been watching me this entire time? Since we—” She gestured helplessly, unable to actually say the words.
“I don’t know for sure. But I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“That’s just fucking creepy.”
The corners of Reagan’s lips twitched. “So you said.”
“Goddammit.” Even more agitated now, Aria resumed her pacing. “That’s just fucked-up. And a waste of time. It’s not like he knew I’d end up pregnant. So why the hell would he be keeping tabs on me this whole time?”
“Some might call it obsession. Others might call it love.”
Stopping dead, Aria stared at her. “Killian O’Rourke is not in love with me.”
Reagan lifted one shoulder. “Maybe not. But I believe we’ve gotten a bit off track.
Regardless of his motives for keeping tabs on you, it was nothing for him to figure out your routine, and it was ridiculously easy for him to pluck you off the streets this morning.
Do you really think it would have been any more difficult for our enemies? ”
“No, but nobody knows who I am. Nobody but my family even knows I’m pregnant.”
“Perhaps not yet. But secrets don’t stay secret for long in our world, Aria, and you have maybe another month or so you’d be able to hide that bump. It was only a matter of time before word got around and you became a target.”
“I can protect myself. My father has more than enough money to hire a private security detail.”
Head cocking to the side, Reagan regarded her with an expression that left Aria feeling like she’d just walked into a trap. “So why didn’t you?”
“Because…” Because she’d been in denial that there was any real danger. She’d been so fucking sure of herself. “It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”
“I see. So when do you think you would have deemed it necessary? After someone else snatched you off the street? Perhaps after the Russians decided you were more of a liability than they were comfortable with and they just went ahead and put a bullet in your brain.”
Fear curdled in her stomach and Aria pressed a hand to her torso, right where her child grew, unsuspecting of the dangers her very existence posed. “You’re just trying to scare me,” she whispered, though she knew deep in her bones it was the truth.
“I am,” Reagan confessed with another of those careless shrugs.
“Because some people need things laid out for them in black and white before they can accept the truth.” Rising from the bed, she crossed the room to rest her hands on Aria’s shoulders, her expression a hard mask.
“You’re tied to us now, Aria, in a very real, very permanent way.
Life as you once knew it? That’s done. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’re willing to let my brother do what it takes to keep you safe, the sooner you might be able to win back some of your freedom. ”
Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to each of Aria’s cheeks before releasing her and striding from the room, pulling the door shut tight behind her.
Aria stared at the white wood separating her from the rest of the house for a long while. No doubt there was a guard just on the other side, with orders to report any movement she made to Killian.
Turning away from the door, she strode toward the window, her knees going weak with relief when she easily unlocked it and raised the glass pane, allowing the cool March air into the room as she peered down at the expanse of lawn behind the house.
The drop wouldn’t kill her, seeing as how there was a roof right beneath her window to break her fall. It would be nothing to pop the screen out, jump down onto the roof and then down to the ground. Painful, maybe, and she risked potentially breaking a leg or an arm, but she would survive.
But there was the baby to consider. That kind of fall would be a huge jolt to her system, which would put her child at risk.
Not to mention, she had no plan for what to do after she jumped from the window.
What was she supposed to do, find a way to sneak around the house, maybe through the woods surrounding the giant yard, and make a break for it?
Just for Killian to find her again and drag her right back here?
Assuming one of his enemies didn’t find her first.
She should have listened to her father. Should have let him hire Holden’s people to watch over her.
Or maybe she should have let him ship her back to Oregon like he’d suggested.
But she hadn’t, and now she was here, a princess in a tower with nowhere to run.
Abandoning the window, she threw herself down onto the ridiculously soft bed. And let the tears she refused to show anyone else finally flow.