Page 94 of Shattered Hearts
The fact that the De Lucas attacked Riley and Cian tonight, the fact that Enzo De Luca told Shane himself it was time for me to pay for what I did to Matteo, puts our entire situation in a new light.
The De Lucas killed Brianne as a means of revenge. I killed the head of their family, who sanctioned her execution. Years went by. I remained at the top of their hit list. What would be the cruelest way to force me to suffer for my crimes?
Destroy all hopes of marital bliss,again, by kidnapping my wife-to-be the day she’s supposed to meet me at the altar. Andnaturally, when they saw that kidnapping Harper didn’t stop my wedding day or my “marriage,” they came after Riley and me to try again.
From the perspective of those dumb bastards, it makes perfect sense. And it was a good plan too. Nothing terrified me more on our wedding day than knowing Harper might be in danger so long as her future was intertwined with mine. If I’d known on that very day that the De Lucas had kidnapped her, that they were harming her because of their hatred for me…nothing could have gutted me more.
Either that, or the De Lucas figured out Harper skipped town, Riley is posing as her sister, and now they’re after Harper. Hell, maybe they’re after herandRiley.
My worst nightmare is repeating itself.
I want to terrorize my father’s office, to tear the place apart in sheer frustration and fucking fear. Riley thinks Harper just got cold feet and disappeared. But what if that’s not the case?
What the fuck am I going to tell Riley?
Sorry I wasn’t there for you today. By the way, both you and your sister’s lives are in danger.
What if Harper’s already dead? What if I get another box with a severed hand inside? My mouth dries.
Enemies closing in on all sides.
The Red Hill boys are up my ass for no reason, coming after Riley and me, and now the De Lucas have returned?
Attacking my friends and the woman I…
I scrub my hand down my face. Now is not the time to analyze my affections for Riley. There’s too much shit going on to let that distract me. My first goal is to keep Riley safe. The second one? Locate her sister.
“You need to warn Riley what’s coming. Once we have a meeting, I’ll task Cian and Rory with locating Harper.” My father’s husky baritone echoes my thoughts exactly. “On thechance that Enzo isn’t aware, let’s not let news of Harper’s disappearance spread outside of our circle. So for now, the only people who should know Riley’s pretending to be her sister are Thomas, Donal, Cian, Rory, and Darren.”
A prudent decision.
I only manage a single nod when a shoulder brushes mine. In walks Donal and Thomas.
Dad gives me one last look before blotting out his cigar. “You’re dismissed.”
Somehow, I stumble out of the office. I stand there for a few minutes, stuck in a nosedive. Like a fighter jet going down, thoughts, concerns, and contingencies spiral violently through my mind.
What if they have Harper? What if they get Riley too?
I visualize that package…that haunting brown square box that Brianne’s severed hand arrived in. I can’t get a package like that again. How many times can I die inside before my body gives out?
How will I explain everything to Riley?
She’s probably back in my suite by now. All I have to do is walk down the hall and go inside and see her.
But I can’t. With this much rage actively burning through me, I’mthis closeto being set off. I need to go calm down before I see her. We have a lot to unpack, and I don’t need to lose my temper.
Instead, my listless feet roam the estate grounds to prolong the inevitable. I do two laps around the gardens. I never go to the garden, but this evening, I do. I need to get away from this house and other humans for a little while.
The night air does me good.
By the time I return to my suite, my rage has decreased by a quarter, and I actually feel like I’m ready to get some things off my chest.
“Riley?” I kick off my shoes by the door and venture farther inside, but I receive no reply. We’re back to the silent treatment.
I pad toward my den, but when I round the corner and glance toward the couch, my blood pressure spikes.
Riley’s made up my sofa with a pillow and a blanket from her apartment.