Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
RONAN
My phone buzzes on the desk with an incoming call from Brennan. I’m surprised to hear from him so soon, considering we only had the meeting at Kieran’s less than twenty-four hours ago, which means he’s either found something or killed Kieran.
I’m not a gambling man, but I’d always bet on the second option. Kieran just has a way of bringing out people’s murderous sides when he’s around.
I rub a hand over my jaw as I hit accept the call. “Yeah?”
It’s been a long day, and I’ve spent the majority of it chained to my computer at Sullivan Investments trying to catch up on paperwork that has been ignored due to my preoccupation with my father’s encrypted payments to the McCarthys.
“Ciara just left some guy’s place.”
“What?”
“They looked really cozy. They seemed to know each other quite well.”
My spine straightens at his words. “Who the hell is this guy?”
“No idea. He was tall with dark hair.”
“That narrows it down.”
“Look, she was in his apartment for a while, so I thought you should know. It seems whatever they were talking about wasn’t nothing.”
I grit my teeth as the blood starts roaring in my ears. “Send me the address.”
Brennan hangs up the call, and a few seconds later my phone pings with a new message, but I don’t open it. Instead, I stare at the screen like it might offer up an explanation that doesn’t involve Ciara screwing around behind my back.
I know I should give her the benefit of the doubt, so before I can warp this narrative any further, I unlock my phone and dial her number.
“Hey.” Her tone is a little too casual. “Everything okay?”
“Just checking in. What have you been up to?”
There’s a pause. It’s brief but enough for me to catch the slight shift in her tone when she answers.
“I had lunch with Mila in the city. We tried that new little café down on 5th. It’s cute, I think you’d like it.”
I breathe through my nose, trying to stay calm, because she sure as hell wasn’t at a café with Mila today.
“Yeah? Sounds nice.”
“It was. We just sat and talked, nothing particularly exciting to report, I’m afraid.”
“Right.” My voice is clipped, but my rage is starting to boil over.
“Will you be home soon?”
The hopefulness in her voice hurts even more, considering she just outright lied to me.
“I have a few more things to do. I’ll see you later.” I hang up the call before I say something I’ll regret. “Fuck.” I toss the phone on the desk and run a hand down my face.
She flat-out lied, which can only mean one thing: she has something to hide.
Jealousy coils in my gut as I think of Ciara with another man.
I trust her, or at least I want to, but I could hear the hesitation in her voice. This wasn’t just some harmless lie. That was a cover story, so whoever this guy is, he clearly means something to her, because she knows what will happen to her if I find out the truth.
And that’s a truth I have every intention of finding.
I program the address Brennan sent through into my GPS and follow it to a faded red-brick tenement building in the East Village. It looks shady as hell, with entire chunks missing from some of the bricks, and the rusted fire escape that snakes down the side is barely holding on.
The thought of Ciara being here completely unprotected turns my blood cold.
As I approach, I notice the lock to the main door is hanging off, so I easily slip inside and take the stairs two at a time to the second floor.
Swallowing my rage, I ball my hand into a tight fist and rap it against the chipped green door.
Footsteps sound on the other side, and I take one last deep breath before it swings open, revealing a man in his early twenties with sharp, angular features and messy dark hair that falls into his eyes.
He frowns as he looks up at me. “Can I help you?”
I don’t answer.
Instead, I grab the front of his shirt, shove him back into the apartment, and kick the door shut behind me.
“What the hell!” he yells, stumbling backward.
“How the fuck do you know my wife?” I growl as I stalk toward him, letting him see the rage in my eyes.
The guy freezes and recognition dawns on his face.
It seems he knows who I am.
“I asked you a question.” I take another step toward him.
The apartment is more of a studio, which means there isn’t much room for this guy to escape me.
He holds up his hands as the color drains from his face. “I’m Max. Mila’s brother.”
For some reason, I see red at this extra information. If this guy really is Mila’s brother, it means he has history with Ciara. Perhaps they dated back in the day, or were even still seeing each other when I forced her into marrying me.
Whichever one it is, I don’t care to find out.
All I care about is sending him a message.
Before Max can even react, my fist connects with his jaw, and his head snaps to the side as blood starts pouring from his lip.
“Fucking hell—”
I land another punch, this time to his stomach, and Max doubles over.
I only intended on threatening the guy, but the sight of his blood, mixed with the dull ache in my knuckles, only fuels my adrenaline.
“Do you think you can sneak around with my wife without me finding out?” I growl as I land another punch to his stomach, which sends Max to his knees, groaning.
“I didn’t. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You tell me.” I grab him by the collar and haul him to his feet before slamming him against the wall, knocking the air from his lungs. “What did you two talk about? What are you hiding?”
“She came to me for help, you psycho! Nothing happened!”
My knuckles collide with his cheekbone, and the skin splits, causing more blood to pour down his face.
“Stay the hell away from her,” I snarl, my face barely an inch from his. “If you even so much as look at my wife again, I’ll make sure you disappear. Do I make myself clear?”
Max’s head sags as a deep groan spills from his lips, but he manages a faint nod.
“Good.” I throw him to the floor.
He’s barely conscious, with blood gushing from his nose and lips and his cheekbone already turning purple, but I think I’ve made my point.
I leave him there on the floor and slam the door behind me.
The drive back to Washington Heights only gives me time to stew in my rage. By the time I walk through the front door, my skin feels like it’s on fire, and my cock aches with the need to be inside Ciara.
I didn’t think I was particularly territorial, but the thought of another man so much as looking at her makes me see red.
I find her in my office, sitting behind my desk and typing away on her laptop, a frown between her eyebrows.
When I enter, her eyes flick up to meet mine, and something flashes behind them.
Guilt.
She gets to her feet and walks to me. “Ronan, I have something to tell yo—”
I take her face in my hands and crush my lips to hers in a punishing kiss, forcing my tongue into her mouth and stroking it against hers.
She stiffens for a moment, but then her hands fist in my shirt, and she kisses me back like she’s starving for my touch.
But I don’t give her mouth the attention she craves. Instead, I break the kiss and reach for the hem of her sweatshirt and lift it over her head.
Her soft little gasp as I undo her bra and toss it to the floor to expose her perky breasts has my cock straining in my pants.
I want nothing more than to mark every inch of her body so she can never forget who she belongs to. But for right now, I’ll settle for burying my cock inside her.
Without saying a word, I bend to slide her leggings and panties off in one go, leaving her completely bare for me.
“Sit on the desk.”
Her breath hitches, but she does as I say, leaning back on her hands, and eagerly parting her thighs as her green eyes glaze over with need.
I have no intention of staying on my knees…but I do have every intention of teaching her a lesson.
I take her lace panties and ball them up in my fist as I climb to my feet and stand over her. “Who do you belong to?”
“You.” A faint blush creeps over her chest.
My gaze flicks down to her bare pussy, my cock throbbing painfully in my pants as I see how wet and swollen she is for me, just from my kiss.
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m yours.”
“Then open your mouth.”
She blinks but does as I ask.
I let her see the feral need in my eyes as I stuff the lace in her mouth.
“Now, give me your wrists.”
Her eyes are wide with a mixture of fear and need as she holds out her wrists in front of her.
I tug at my tie and remove it from around my neck before wrapping it around her delicate wrists, giving her no room to break free.
“Now, lie back.”
When she gives a muffled whimper as she lies against my desk, I swallow a groan.
I make quick work of unfastening my pants before I pull my aching cock free and move to stand between her thighs.
“You belong to me,” I growl as I sink my fingers into her ass cheeks and slam my cock inside her with one punishing thrust.
Her back bows off the desk as I stretch her pussy. But I give her no chance to adjust before I’m sliding my cock free and thrusting back inside her once more.
“I want you to feel me for days. To wince every time you take a step because of how hard I fuck you.”
She tries to moan, but the panties in her mouth make it hard for her.
It could have been enough just to restrain her, but I wanted to teach her a lesson.
If she thinks she can get away with lying, I’ll take away her ability to speak. It’s as simple as that.
“You can’t tell me what you want.” I chuckle darkly as I slam my hips into her. “Which means, I get to decide for you.”
She tries to pull against the tie around her wrist, which sends a surge of pleasure down my spine, straight to my balls. Seeing her like this, completely at my mercy, draws me dangerously close to erupting.
“Do you think you deserve to come?” I reach down to rub my thumb over her swollen clit as I move my hips faster, my balls already tightening with my own need to come.
Her back arches off the desk as she tries to cry out, but the panties in her mouth muffle the sound.
She writhes against the desk as she tries to cling to any control she has, but I tighten my hold on her hips, keeping her still as I work her clit in time with my thrusts.
“You’re mine, Tine Bhaeg. You’re mine.”
My words are enough to send Ciara over the edge. Her expression is nothing but agony as she comes, her entire body trembling as she loses the last of her control over herself.
“Fuck,”
Her pussy clenches around me so hard that I come right along with her.
I grip her ass harder, pulling her tighter against me as my hips jerk and my cock spills inside her, giving her every last drop I have.
Only when I’ve fully emptied myself do I slide free and step back to take in the sight of Ciara sprawled on the desk, her hands still bound with my tie. Her pussy is swollen, and her thighs are trembling from the intensity of her orgasm, but it’s the look in her eyes that makes me pause.
She’s not afraid. Just…confused.
I reach forward and take the panties out of her mouth before stuffing them in my pocket.
“What the hell was that?” Her voice is hoarse, as she sits up.
I don’t answer. Instead, I stuff my still rock-hard cock into my pants and refasten them.
“Ronan.”
“You weren’t out with Mila today.”
I glance up and see Ciara’s eyes widen for a brief second before she schools her features back to neutral.
“Don’t lie to me again.” My temper flares. “Were you seeing him behind my back?”
Her mouth falls open in shock. “What? No—”
My phone buzzes on the table.
“Ronan.”
I grab my phone and curse at the name on the screen.
It’s one of my guys who I told to keep an eye on Max, and his sister for that matter, after I left.
“I have to take this.”
Ignoring Ciara’s furious glare as she sits on the edge of my desk, still completely naked with her wrists bound and my cum dripping down her thighs, I hold the phone up to my ear and brace myself for whatever shitstorm is about to hit.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“Max is dead.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I didn’t beat the guy up badly enough to warrant him fucking dying. Surely, this has to be some kind of misunderstanding.
“What do you mean, dead?”
“As in, no longer alive.” His words are completely deadpan.
“I know what fucking dead means. I mean, what the hell happened?”
“We were parked across the street the whole time. No one went in through the front door, but when we went in to check on him like you asked, it seemed like someone got in through the back. From the state of him, the guy didn’t stand a chance.”
“And Mila?”
I ignore Ciara’s panicked expression at the mention of her friend’s name.
“Gone. Dante called to say her place is empty, but there was no sign of a struggle.”
Fuck.
This can’t be a coincidence that the person closest to Ciara is missing and the last person she was seen with, other than me, is now lying dead in his apartment.
It looks like I’m not the only one keeping tabs on my wife.
“Keep me updated.” I hang up the call.
Ciara pulls the tie off her wrists and hurries to get dressed.
My chest tightens as I look at her, my previous rage morphing into a gut-wrenching guilt that feels like it’s eating me alive.
She stops to stare at me. “What is it?”
My pulse thunders in my ears. “Max is dead.”
She blinks at me, but then she must read the truth on my face as the soft pink blush that still coats her cheeks from her climax instantly fades.
“W-what? H-how?” Her green eyes widen with horror. “That’s not possible. I was just with him. He was… he was fine.”
“And Mila’s missing,” I add before I lose my nerve and shield Ciara from this truth.
She looks like she’s about to throw up.
“I had my guys keeping an eye on her, just in case. But she’s gone.”
Ciara staggers backward until the backs of her thighs hit the desk, and she collapses onto it, staring at the floor.
I take a seat beside her and draw her against my side, praying she can’t sense the guilt radiating from me.
I don’t tell her I was the last one to see Max alive. That I left him bloodied and broken and completely vulnerable for someone else to swarm in and finish the job. Added to the fact that Mila is missing, means whoever is behind this just declared war.