29. Elle
ELLE
I wake up alone. I’m not sure how I feel about that. There is the scent of fresh coffee and toast, and when I turn my head to the side, I see the silver tray with breakfast and a diamond bracelet.
I glare at it and sit up, scooping up the diamonds, ready to throw them back in Lorcan’s face, when I see the note.
Saw this and thought of you.
Fin.
I snort, half in amusement at the unoriginal note and half in annoyance. But then I remember his words last night. I fucking love you.
My heart thumps in the silence of the room. It’s everything I always wanted to hear, but I froze.
I froze because I don’t believe a man like Fintan Keane would love a woman like me with more baggage than Heathrow.
But what if he does?
The thought terrifies me more than anything else that’s happened in the last few days. I can survive being locked up, their threats and their possessiveness. I can even survive the truth about my parents and Harry being dragged into the light of day.
What I can’t survive is believing someone loves me and then discovering it was a lie.
Carefully, I set the bracelet down on the tray and pick up the toast instead. It’s still warm. The coffee is hot, and I drink it black, grateful for the bitter kick that helps clear my head.
A knock at the door startles me. I wait for whoever it is to walk in, but nothing happens.
“Come in?” I croak it out as a question.
The bedroom door opens, and I expect Fintan. Instead, it’s Lorcan. His face looks worse than it did yesterday.
“You look like shit,” I say.
“Good morning to you too.” He walks to the window, opens the curtains, then puts his hands in his pockets, looking out at the grey London morning.
He doesn’t turn immediately. His back is a broad wall of expensive cotton and tension.
I set the toast down, the appetite I had a second ago vanishing.
Every time he walks into a room, the oxygen seems to leave.
The silence stretches.
“Why are you here?” I ask finally, setting the coffee cup down.
“Can’t I check on you?”
“You could. But you don’t strike me as the checking-in type. Besides, you didn’t ask about me.”
He turns from the window, and the morning light catches on the purple bruising around his eye. It’s spread further overnight, creeping down his cheek in shades of yellow and green. “Fintan told me what he said to you.”
My stomach clenches. “And?”
“It’s what you wanted.”
“What you said you can’t give me.”
“Would that satisfy you, Elle? To be loved by Fintan. Would it be enough?”
“No.”
“No,” he repeats softly with a slow smile. “You want me to love you.”
“I want you to understand it’s not a difficult concept to get your head around. What you do after that is up to you. I’m no one’s keeper.”
“But I am yours.”
I grimace. “Touché.”
“I have to leave for a couple of days. Tiernan and Fintan will still be here.”
My blood runs cooler. “Where are you going?”
“Work.”
“Work takes you away?”
His smile this time is arrogant. “Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
He considers that for a moment. I see him consider lying to me, but eventually he breathes out a fraction and says, “The Cayman Islands.”
“Oh.” I don’t acknowledge it in any other capacity but that flat one syllable.
His eyes narrow. “Do you have something to say?”
“I know it’s used for offshore banking and tax evasion,” I say carefully. “My father—”
“Don’t say anything else that can incriminate him,” he interrupts. “Not now.”
“You would use it?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you evade tax, Lorcan?”
He chuckles. Hard. “Avoidance is the term, and yes, I do. Most people with any substantial wealth do.”
“Rude,” I say, but make no further comment because what do I know? “Two days?”
“Maybe less.”
“Is it important?”
“Very.”
“So you have to go?”
“Yes.” He searches my eyes. “Do you not want me to go, Elle?”
Now it’s my turn to think about his question. “Not really. I don’t know where you will be or who you will be with.”
His gaze darkens. “You still don’t trust that I want only you.”
“I don’t trust jack shit. Trust gets you shattered.”
“I am going for business. Nothing more, nothing less. Why would I want to sink my cock into an inferior woman when I have you, locked up and waiting for me with your legs wide open?”
“Say it like that again, and I will lock my legs together so you never get sunk again.”
“Rude,” he says with a soft smirk, repeating my word back to me.
“Is that what you came for? A quick fuck before you go?” My temper flares, but it’s only half activated.
“No.” He takes a step closer to the bed. “I came to tell you I’m leaving. So you know I haven’t abandoned you, and that I’m coming back.”
My heart stutters painfully. He knows how to make me feel safe, and most of me wishes he didn’t.
“I want you to know that while I’m gone, Tiernan and Fintan will keep you safe.”
“I’m locked in a penthouse. How much safer can I get?”
“There are always threats, Elle. Especially now that you are on a radar.”
My blood chills. “What does that mean?”
“It means that the moment you walked into our lives, you became a target for anyone who wants leverage over me or my brothers. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t control everything from the Caymans.”
“Watch me.”
“Tell me again why you’re going?” I whisper. Something is off about this. I just can’t place my finger on it.
His blue eyes stay locked on mine. “Business.”
“What kind of business?”
His mouth curves into a slow, arctic smile that never touches his eyes. “Nothing you need to know about.”
“Too stupid to understand?” I goad him.
“Too precious to know. Plausible deniability, Elle. You don’t need to know the details.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “That’s convenient.”
“It’s the truth.” He moves closer until he’s standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at me with that infuriating arrogance. “I protect what’s mine, Elle. That includes protecting you from information that could put you in danger.”
“How noble,” I mutter, picking up my coffee again just to have something to do with my hands. The warmth bleeds through the cup into my palms, grounding me.
“It’s practical.” His hand reaches out, and I freeze as his fingers brush along my jaw. The touch is gentle, at odds with the bruising on his face. “Two days. Maybe less. Then I’m back.”
I want to lean into his touch. I want to pull away. I do neither. I just sit there like an idiot, caught between wanting him and hating how much I want him.
“Fine,” I say finally. “Go do your mysterious business in the Caymans. I’ll be here, living my best life in a golden cage.”
His thumb traces my lower lip, and my breath catches despite my best efforts. He doesn’t say goodbye, or anything else. He just drops his hand and leaves.
Finishing the coffee, I stare at the closed door.
Lorcan is going to the Caymans. For business that he won’t explain to me because of plausible deniability. I’m not stupid. I know what that means. Whatever he’s doing isn’t legal, or at least it’s skirting the edge of legality so closely that knowing the details could make me an accessory.
The question is, do I care?
A cold knot tightens in my stomach, a familiar dread that feels more like home than horror. I’m involved with men who operate outside the law, who lock women in penthouse apartments and threaten violence casually.
I stop that thought before it spirals into full panic.
Because the truth is darker than that. The truth is I don’t know if I care that they’re criminals, or whatever they are.
The truth is that somewhere between being dragged into their world and last night when Fintan told me he loved me, I stopped caring about morals.
I pick up the diamond bracelet and turn it over in my hands. The stones catch the morning light, throwing tiny rainbows across the wall. It’s beautiful in a cold, expensive way.
I clasp it around my wrist and watch how it sits against my skin. It feels foreign and right at the same time, like everything else in this penthouse.
Pushing back the covers, I get up and head to the bathroom.
I’m done sitting around feeling sorry for myself.
There is a study downstairs with shelves full of books.
There is a TV set back into a wall in the living room that is the biggest I’ve ever seen.
I don’t have to treat this like a prison, but a well-deserved holiday from my shitty life.
I shower quickly, scrubbing away the remnants of a deep sleep. My thighs ache, making me flush when I think about Tiernan in the hallway and Fintan in the shower. I press my forehead against the cool tiles and breathe through the memories.
When I’m done, I wrap myself in a towel and head back to the bedroom. The wardrobe is full of gorgeous clothes I have chosen to ignore. This time, I look at them and choose a soft pair of black jeans and a silk shirt that makes me moan with delight when it slides over my shoulders.
The bracelet catches on the sleeve, and I adjust it, watching the diamonds glitter. I wonder if Fintan really saw it and thought of me, or if that’s just what men like him say when they buy expensive things for women they claim to love.
Carrying the tray, I make my way downstairs, my bare feet silent on the cool marble.
The penthouse is quiet. Too quiet. I half expect Tiernan to jump out from somewhere, but the living room is empty.
So is the kitchen. I drop the tray on the counter and clean up the paper plate and cup, looking around to see if anything else needs doing.
It doesn’t.
It’s spotless.
I pull open the fridge and see a raw chicken placed in the middle of the shelf with a variety of fresh vegetables surrounding it and a Post-it slapped on the plastic wrapper.
You aren’t a chicken. This is a chicken. L
I choke back the laugh, which turns into a sob.
“You arse,” I mutter, but I’m pleased in a really basic way that he did this.
I pull it out and place it on the counter.
The vegetables join it, and I find luxury roast potatoes in a foil container, along with a tub of creamy mash.
I could’ve made both from scratch, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll take what I can get.
Turning on the oven to preheat, I prep the chicken, seasoning it with herbs I find in the cupboard. The vegetables are next, going into pots on the stove to par-boil before I throw them in to roast with the chicken.
The silence that bothered me so much before is now more peaceful.
I’m glad none of the brothers interrupt me.
I want this time to myself to do the work and to reap the rewards.
I slide the chicken into the oven with a genuine smile.
There’s something about cooking that settles me, and I haven’t had that for a long time.
The kitchen smells like home. Not my cheap, freezing flat with its damp walls. Not even my childhood home with its marble counters and staff. This is something else. Something I’ve never actually had.
I wander into the living room and stare at the massive TV.
The remote is sitting on the mantel underneath it.
I pick it up and break the silence with the news.
The news anchor’s voice fills the room, a droning recitation of London’s daily miseries.
Traffic on the M25, another stabbing in Southwark, a politician denying allegations I don’t care about.
I curl up on the sofa and let it wash over me, a mundane backdrop to the chaos my life has become.
The bracelet catches my eye again. I twist my wrist, watching the diamonds throw light across the ceiling. Fintan said he saw it and thought of me. The note was simple, almost sweet in its lack of poetry. He just left it there with breakfast.
He said he loved me last night like it was inevitable, like there was no other possible outcome from the moment he met me.
I don’t know what to do with that kind of certainty.
After a few minutes of watching the weather report, I get up, drain the vegetables, open the oven, scatter them around the chicken, and give the tray a shake. Closing it again, I return to the weather report to see a breaking story.
“… Alexander Snowden, heir to the Snowden banking fortune, was seen leaving his Mayfair residence early this morning...”
The camera shows a man in an expensive suit climbing into a black car. He’s handsome in that polished, aristocratic way that screams old money. Dark hair, sharp jawline, confidence that comes from never having to worry about anything.
“… believe he was intercepted at the corner of Grosvenor and Davies Street…”
“Snowden,” I say with a frown. That’s the name that Lorcan kept mentioning, asking if I knew him. And now he’s been abducted.
I sit carefully and stare at the screen, not really hearing anything of any use. The only thing that keeps going through my mind is: who would kidnap him? And why?