Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
CIARA
I roll all of the windows of the Range Rover down and let the crisp autumn air fill the car as I make the drive into the city.
Ronan has been hovering over me like a storm cloud ever since I found those additional encrypted payments, his moods dark and unpredictable, so for the first time all week, I finally feel like I can breathe.
I’m trying my hardest to break through the encrypted payments, but between the pressure he’s putting on me and my own frustration at my lack of progress, I’m ready to claw my own skin off.
I just need some space. Just an hour or two where I’m not thinking about coded transactions or my husband’s glowering stare.
What I need is some girl time.
I call Mila on my drive into the city. "Please tell me you’re free for lunch."
She laughs, the sound instantly cheering me up.
"I’ve just gotten out of a meeting, and I was about to go and grab some food.”
“Oh, thank god. I’m about ten minutes out of the city.”
“Meet at the usual place?”
“Of course.” I chuckle.
I park a few streets over from the little deli we used to frequent back in our college days. As I walk down the street and spy the navy-blue awning and metal tables and chairs, a wave of nostalgia mixed with grief for the girl I used to be back then hits me.
If only I knew what was to come…
Mila is already waiting for me, sitting at one of the outside tables with a couple of iced teas. She’s dressed in a black pantsuit with a fuchsia blouse that perfectly matches her lipstick, looking effortlessly chic as always.
“That was quick.” I chuckle as I take the seat opposite her.
She pushes one of the iced teas toward me. “I needed to get out of the office. My boss is driving me crazy.”
“Me too, except my office is my house, and my boss is my husband.”
Mila’s shoulders shake with laughter, and I roll my eyes.
“Go on.” She waves a hand. “Vent. I could use something to take my mind off work.”
“It’s nothing you haven’t already heard before. He’s being his usual hot-and-cold self.” I sigh before taking a sip of my tea.
"Did you give any more thought to what I said the other day?"
Of course, I did.
Her voice has been in the back of my mind ever since that conversation last week where she suggested getting to know Ronan instead of fighting him.
It’s what led me to cooking dinner for him in the hopes of spending some time together, and in some ways, it worked, seeing as we ended up in his bed.
But then just as quickly as the connection formed, it was once again severed by his temper.
"I thought about it. I even tried to give things a shot. But Ronan... He’s impossible.”
“These things will take time—”
“The annoying thing is that there is definitely something there, Mila.” The words come spilling out. “I can feel it, and I know he does too. But every time we get close, he slams the door in my face, and we’re right back to where we started."
She gives me a knowing look. "That sounds exhausting.”
"It is."
"So, what are you going to do?"
I shake my head before tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I don’t know. Right now, I’m taking a break from thinking about him.”
“How’s that going?” Mila laughs.
“Clearly, not great. Please tell me what’s going on with you. I need to talk about some drama that isn’t mine."
She grins as she leans forward to squeeze my hand. "Oh, I have plenty of drama to fill you in on.”
We sit outside the deli for an hour, laughing and gossiping like we did back in college, splitting a turkey sandwich and a plate of fries as Mila fills me in on her own dating life.
Spending time with her feels like slipping into another life, one that doesn’t involve secrets and encrypted bank transfers, and for the first time in days, I feel like myself.
I wish she didn’t have to go back to work so we could spend the entire day in the city, but at some point, I’ll have to go home and face Ronan and whatever mood he’s in.
Yet, it seems the universe might have other plans, as the moment I climb back into the car after waving goodbye to Mila, my phone buzzes.
I wonder if perhaps Mila has decided to call in sick the rest of the day after all, but then I see my brother’s name on the screen, and my good mood instantly vanishes.
Callum: Can you stop by? Need to talk.
I hesitate, my thumbs hovering over the screen.
I’ve not spoken to Callum since the wedding, and not because I don’t care about him, but it’s kind of hard to forget he’s the very reason I’m married to Ronan.
Why did it have to be me who had to save us? Wasn’t there some spoiled mafia princess out there who he could have tied himself to instead?
I grind my teeth as I read Callum’s message once more.
What the hell could he possibly need to talk to me about?
I’m tempted to just not reply, but then my only other option is to go home, and I don’t particularly want to do that either. So, I guess I’m going to pay my brother a visit.
Me: On my way.
I cringe as I pull up outside my family’s run-down estate in Ronan’s ridiculous car. Then I glance up to the window in the center of the second floor, the one my father used to look out of when he was working, and my chest tightens.
As if marrying a Sullivan wasn’t enough of a kick in the teeth to his memory, now I’m flashing their wealth around without giving it a second thought.
What’s happened to me?
I switch off the engine and climb out of the car, trying to ignore the bitter taste in my mouth as I lock it behind me.
The house looks the same as it did the last time I was here, yet it feels so much smaller.
As I unlock the front door and head inside, I’m surprised when I don’t feel that familiar calm wash over me.
Even when I used to spend a few nights at Mila’s after a heavy weekend partying, coming home always felt like a breath of fresh air.
It might not have been the grandest house, filled with expensive antiques and a stream of staff to dote on me hand and foot, but it was home.
But now? Not so much.
“Callum?” I peel my eyes away from the dust-covered piano hidden beneath the stairs.
“In here!”
I follow the sound of my brother’s voice into the sitting room, where I find him pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace with an empty rocks glass in hand.
His blond hair is disheveled, and the usual stubble that coats his jaw has almost grown into a full beard.
His dark navy slacks and white shirt look like they could do with a good dry clean too.
In other words, my brother looks like absolute shit.
When he catches me watching him, he straightens as his eyes flick over me.
“Good, you’re here.”
I roll my eyes. "Nice to see you too." I try my best to keep my tone light. "What’s going on?"
He gestures for me to sit on the couch, but I don’t.
Something about his energy is off, and from the half-empty decanter of whiskey on the coffee table, I have a feeling whatever he wants to talk to me about isn’t good.
“Spit it out, Callum.” I fold my arms over my chest.
To my annoyance, he remains silent as he sets his glass on the coffee table and pours himself another drink.
"How are things with Ronan?" he eventually asks.
“Is that why you made me come over here? To ask how my marriage is going?”
Callum’s expression hardens as he looks at me over the top of his glass, and I let out a sigh. “It’s fine. We’re…figuring things out.”
He nods slowly as he looks down at his drink and swirls the amber liquid around his glass.
"I’ve been thinking…”
“About?”
“That there might be a way out of this for you."
“Out of what?”
“Your marriage.”
Now I wish I’d been sitting down as my legs almost buckle beneath me.
"W-what do you mean, a way out?"
He dips his chin toward the couch, and this time I do as he asks, collapsing onto the worn leather as my heartbeat starts to pound in my ears.
He could get me out of my marriage?
"I’ve got something in the works." Callum’s voice is low as he moves to take a seat in the armchair closest to me. "It’s not ready yet, but when it is, I wanted you to know that you’ll have options."
My stomach twists. "Options to do what, exactly?"
"To walk away from him. From all of it."
“B-but I thought the only way we could save our family was if I married Ronan? What’s suddenly changed?”
“The deal isn’t working out as I hoped.” His tone is clipped.
A strangled laugh escapes my lips. “Of course, it isn’t. You made a deal with a Sullivan. It was never going to work in our favor, Callum. Everything is on their terms.”
“Not anymore.” He leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his whiskey. “I’m sick of those fuckers calling the shots.”
Not sure I like this. "What are you planning?"
"Trust me, Ciara, I’ve got this handled."
"Callum, this isn’t just about me. Whatever you’re thinking of doing could start a war—"
"Maybe a war needs to be started."
Does my reckless brother seriously think he can solve our problems with a power play against the Sullivans of all people?
I stare at Callum, unsure whether to scream in his face or simply walk away. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” I shake my head. "I’ve given up everything to keep this family from going under, and you want to go ahead and blow it all up? Are you fucking insane?"
He’s on his feet in an instant, looking like he wants to launch his rocks glass at the wall. "We need a new plan—”
“Have you considered that maybe you’re not the best at deciding what’s right for this family?” I get to my feet too.
His expression turns murderous as he glares at me, but I don’t back down. If I can handle Ronan’s moods, then I can handle anything.
"If you’re planning something, I don’t want to know about it."
Callum’s jaw tightens. "You used to have my back.”
"I married a man I hated because you told me to, so if someone has anyone’s back here, it is me. But I also don’t want to sit around and watch you get yourself killed, because that’s what will happen if you go up against Ronan.”
“Are you sure that’s the reason?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He opens his mouth to respond, but he must see something in my face because he quickly snaps it shut and pours himself yet another drink, so I take that as my cue to leave.
It’s clear we can’t have a civilized conversation about this when he’s half a bottle of whiskey deep. Maybe I’ll stop by again in the morning when he’s sobered up and he can actually think rationally.
Once I’m behind the wheel and driving back toward the Sullivan’s estate, my thoughts run wild as I try to make sense of Callum’s plan.
I thought the only way we could save our family’s reputation was by marrying me off to the Sullivans, but now that Ronan isn’t playing by Callum’s rules, he wants to throw in the towel?
“Idiot,” I mutter under my breath.
Callum should have known that Ronan wouldn’t make this easy for him. The Sullivans haven’t gotten to be one of the most powerful families in the country by handing out favors, but Callum is stubborn and impatient, two qualities that could cost him everything if he plays this wrong.
Which means I need to consider warning Ronan about this.
I might not know Callum’s plans, but I’m sure Ronan would want to know if my brother was plotting against him. It would be the smart move to make…but the idea of betraying my brother and handing him over to Ronan like a pig about to be slaughtered makes me sick to my stomach.
How the hell am I supposed to choose between betraying my brother or my husband?