2. Ryder
It’s half past ten when Ronnie walks into my office like he won the damn lottery. “All done boss,” he quips proudly.
“What is the final number?” I ask, not looking up from my laptop.
“Four million.”
“That’s less than what we anticipated. What changed?” It’s common knowledge that Declan Sullivan is as greedy as they come. I sent the guys out with a budget of six million.
“You always underestimate me. I started at three. Anyway, they are going to facilitate the mergers we presented and I think you’ll be happy with the other arrangement,” he cocks a brow my way, “The girl practically jumped at the chance to marry into the family. Her brother wasn’t too happy about it, but -”
“What do you mean ‘her brother’?” I stand, my curiosity peeking. We were presented with a couple of options before the meeting. None had siblings that I remember and none were supposed to be at the dinner, or I would have made it a point to go myself.
“Devina Sullivan.”
This was a surprise. I hadn’t even considered her an option. Declan keeps her under lock and key. Intrigued, I shoot an email to my younger brother, Philippe, to do some research. He’s our resident computer nerd.
From our prior research, Bridget seemed like the best option. While they both were fairly attractive, Declan’s cousin Bridget seemed like the best candidate. The other just looked like trouble.
“Well, that’s interesting. I wonder what’s wrong with her. I’m not sure if someone could pay me enough to marry off one of my siblings.” I raise a brow.
“That’s the odd thing, boss. She volunteered. I could tell Declan was just as surprised as we were when she did. She is in a completely different league than the other two that were offered. Nothing is wrong with her. Actually, there was something intriguing about her. I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He walks over to the bar cart to pour himself a celebratory drink.
The bottom line is that it doesn’t matter who marries into the family. My father is looking to step away from the family business and leave it to one of his children, but only if we are married. Something about commitment to the family and a display of maturity. As if we hadn’t been groomed our entire lives to be cunning and savage.
The four of us have already discussed how operations would work, running it as a team. Something my father doesn’t want to hear about. So, for now, we’ve agreed that one of us will suck it up and get married. In the end, we will change things how we see fit, but we need the old man to step down first.
I’m partially relieved that the transaction went smoothly, but there is a part of me that feels unsettled. It’s no secret that our families have had their share of differences over the decades. So, why was Declan so eager to cast his baby sister away? Maybe she can’t have children. In our situation, it’s a nonissue. We don’t need her to produce a child. We aren’t in the fucking Middle Ages and we don’t view women as cattle. I also have two younger brothers who will eventually get married and have children of their own.
Perhaps there wasn’t anything wrong with her, but there had to be a reason she was so willing to volunteer.
What are you hiding, Devina Sullivan?
“Thanks, Ronnie,” Raising my glass, I nod dismissing him.
* * *
Taking my thoughts to the balcony, I light a smoke and try to figure out our next move. I agreed to marry one of the women from the Sullivan clan. Not that I wanted to. Dealing with Declan was the last thing that I wanted after what transpired with Michaela, an unfortunate loss I’ve spent years trying to forget. Now he was here, asking for help when he should be begging for forgiveness. Coward.
The ping of my phone interrupts my thoughts and a photo of Devina Sullivan flashes on the screen with a note from Philippe.
Philippe: Nice.
Tossing my cigarette in the ashtray and heading back to my desk, I pull up the rest of the file he prepared.
Yes, she is ‘nice’. She’s fucking gorgeous. Scanning through the file I learn that she is twenty-four. She’s probably a better fit for Philippe based on age. It appears she works at one of her brother’s offices. A newspaper clipping shows an article from several years ago. A house fire – no known cause, but a few family members perished. Interesting. What’s more interesting is the amount of ownership she’ll inherit once she’s married. I wonder if she’s aware.
I glance at the only photo occupying my desk. Torn on the edges and creased, it is forever preserved in a silver frame. My sweet Michaela and I. We were so young in this photo. It was taken about ten years ago. It was when our friendship was blooming. Before I knew we were to be wed. Before she was taken from me.
Declan is the reason we are even searching for a bride. Declan is the reason our territory is being invaded by Bratva. Declan fucking Sullivan is the reason I now have only the memory of the woman I was supposed to marry.
There has to be something I’m not seeing. Would he be dumb enough to plant his sister in our home to gather information? Well, I’m sure he is, but I’m not sure what he’s looking for. Like the serpent whispering promises in the garden, a thought enters my mind and it is too delicious to ignore. Mr. Sullivan took everything from me that night and after years of waiting for the right time to strike, a stunning opportunity has presented itself. An eye for an eye, Mr. Sullivan.
Originally, I needed this deal to gain shares in the Sullivan Corporation. But if I can get Devina to sign over her shares, we’d have the majority vote. By the time I’m done with her, she’ll be more than willing to sign them over. Women are easy. Flippant creatures swayed by romance and a good fuck. I should have her eating out of the palm of my hand in no time. It will be the biggest fuck you to Declan before they both take a bullet to the head.
I glance back at my screen to the image of Devina, dialing Philippe. She looks so innocent and unknowing. Her eyes are what captivate me. Guarded with a hint of fragility. Pure.
“Who is Devina?” He asks instead of greeting me.
“Declan Sullivan’s sister,” I answer.
He sighs, clearly irritated with me. “Obviously. Why am I looking her up?”
“She’s the bride.”
There is a brief silence before he responds. “Are you okay? What do you need me to do?”
The ideas run through my mind until I land on my newest desire. “I want to break her.” I fill him in on the plan to take over Sullivan Corporations.
“You know she has nothing to do with this. She was just a kid, Ryde.”
“He’ll pay,” I pinch my brows together and close my eyes, trying to overcome my conscious, who isn’t accepting my desire to ruin an innocent woman. “She’s the price, and he will pay. I need to know everything there is to know. Not just her birthday and her fucking job title. No detail is too small. I want to know her fucking favorite flower. Get me something I can use.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He isn’t happy, but he’ll do it.
My mind is made up. I’ve resolved to jump into this marriage with a lot more enthusiasm than originally anticipated.
What is the saying? Killing two birds with one stone?
And what a beautiful little sparrow she is.