CIARA
I’m halfwaythrough stirring sugar into my coffee in the hopes of making it taste better when Ronan stalks into the kitchen without so much as agood morning. Not that I’d expect him to act nice after what happened between us last night, but the silence still feels heavy between us.
His eyes weigh on me as I load my breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, but I refrain from glancing over my shoulder at him.
If he’s waiting for me to apologize for slapping him, then he’ll be waiting a long damn time. He deserved a hell of a lot worse for what he said about my father.
Just thinking about the conversation has my blood boiling, so I snatch up my coffee mug. It’s best to lock myself in my room if Ronan’s planning on hanging around the house today.
When I turn around, he’s leaning against the island, his arms folded and a deep crease between his eyebrows. His all-black attire only adds to his dark cloud of a mood, although for a brief second, I let myself admire his broad frame andthe swell of biceps that look as if they’re about to burst through the material of his shirt.
“I’ve decided to let you try.” His tone is clipped.
I blink out of my fantasy and force my eyes to meet his. “Try what?”
He fixes me with that unreadable stare that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. “Working for me.”
I almost drop my coffee mug. “Are you serious?”
He nods once, though the muscle in his jaw ticks, which tells me he’s not doing this out of guilt for what he said last night.
What on earth could Ronan Sullivan need my help for?
“You said you wanted something to do, but first I want you to prove you can be useful.” He pushes off the counter and strides to the coffee machine. “So, you’ll start tomorrow.”
I turn to face him, clutching my mug between my hands like it’s a lifeline. “What made you change your mind?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he just grabs himself a mug and pours a black coffee as if we’re not in the middle of an important conversation that could potentially shift our marriage dynamic.
“Ronan.”
He ignores me again as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Seriously?” I scoff.
“I said you could start tomorrow. Don’t push it.”
This is so typical of him, acting like he’s offering me some huge favor that should have me falling to my knees in gratitude.
“Fine. What’s the job?”
“I’ll give you something minor to start with.” He sets down his mug and faces me. “If you prove yourself useful and trustworthy, we’ll see about giving you an actual job title.”
My pride bristles at his condescending tone, but I plastera smile on my face regardless. “Thank you. For taking a chance on me.”
His eyes flicker at the sarcasm under the surface of my words, but he doesn’t call it out. Instead, he finishes his coffee and leaves the room without another word.
As soon as his footsteps fade, I exhale as the house turns silent once more.
Working for Ronan as well as being married to him sounds like a recipe for disaster, but this might be the only way I can earn his trust, which is essential if I have any hope of finding anything I can use to take him down.
A family like the Sullivans doesn’t build this kind of empire without breaking a few rules, and tomorrow, I can officially start digging.
I’mdue to meet Mila for coffee in the city in an hour, so after showering and getting ready, I head back downstairs and open up my phone, ready to order an Uber, seeing as my car wasn’t one of the personal belongings Ronan thought would be necessary to have brought over here.
His heavy footsteps approach.
“Speak of the devil…”
