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Hayes smirks, winking. “What’s wrong, Junior? Mad Collins is in my bed, and not yours? Or maybe,” he drawls, cracking his knuckles. “You’re afraid of her. I’m sure you heard what she did to Finn?”
Roman’s face pales, shoulders dropping. “That wasn’t her. Collins—”
“My fiancée,” he corrects. “And oh, she did. It was beautiful.” He looks down at me. “Who would’ve thought I was into the deranged type?”
I shrug. “It fits their aesthetic. All of them are a little unhinged.”
He nods, laughing. “You have seen nothing yet.”
“Valentina,” Roman snaps, drawing us back to the present. “Who did you marry? Did you give up your virtue?”
He’s panicked, swallowing and shifting uncomfortably. The hairs on the back of my neck lift. Something is wrong.
“I’m an O’Brien now,” I declare. Roman’s knees buckle, but he stays upright. “I married Briar; it’s all legal. I came back to get my things and to return to my new home. You can’t touch me.”
Sweat drips from his nose. Now that I look, his collar is damp. His shirt is wrinkled, pants mussed. My eyes scan the guards, looking around the room.
Everything seems normal—but these men; they’re not my brother’s guards. They’re bigger, scarier. They don’t look at me, but keep their gazes locked over my head, opposite to the leers Roman’s men would cast my way.
“Take it back,” he seethes, stepping forward. He tries to grab my ring, jerking my hand, but Hayes and Ello push him away. “Renounce the marriage. If you do it now—”
“No.” My voice is like steel. “I’m in love, brother. I will not end my marriage because you demand it.”
“You don’t understand,” he barks. “We are drowning. When you marry, the money—”
“What money?” I ask sharply.
Briar said there was an offshore account. Roman knows something. He freezes, eyes wide, jowls trembling. Hayes, taller and bigger than us, stalks closer. He’s a panther to Roman’s skittish mouse, and he inhales his fear, smiling.
“We saw the records, Junior.” He eyes the men and their weapons. “Where’s the money coming from?”
His jaw snaps shut, teeth clashing together.
“Whose account is it?” I ask. My heart skips a beat as Roman exhales.
But he doesn’t cave. He smiles, scratching his forehead.
“Well, shit.” He withdraws his gun and points it at us. The rest of the men draw their weapons. Hayes and Ello retreat with me at their back, but more guards come through the front door.
My throat closes up. We’re trapped.
“Roman, don’t,” I plead. “If you kill me or Hayes, the captain will not show you mercy.”
“That cunt?” he scoffs. “She won’t be able to touch me when I deliver you.”
“Deliver me?”
“Think it through,” Hayes reminds him. “She blew up your money fronts because you killed one of her runners. She would’ve killed you more than once for the shit you’ve pulled. If you touch either of us, you’re dead. Probably in the most gruesome way possible.”
Roman sucks on his bottom lip. He knows Hayes isn’t lying. But is it worth enraging a psychopath, or playing it safe?
He cocks the gun.
“I found your little chest,” he spits. “All Mama’s notes. I’m sure you already know where the money is from.”
My mind blanks, trying to concentrate. Why would I know where the money is coming from through Mama’s notes? There are hundreds in that box. I haven’t read through them all.
At my confusion, he huffs.
