“Deartháir,” he greets. Nothing is ever good when he calls me brother.
“Finn,” I respond, taking off my suit jacket and tossing it over the chair. My brother’s nostrils flare, and he stops spinning the weapon on the table.
“You’ve been busy. Where is she?”
“I’ve got it under control,” I deadpan.
My twin brother looks to Declan, who shrugs and takes a seat, pouring his own glass of whiskey. He smirks against the glass as he waits for the drama between us to unfold.
“Do you know how many times Lorcán has complained about how sweet her scent is? How hard he’s had to try to maintain his front when he’s around her?” His voice is cool and calm. It makes everything much worse. I wonder if he’s making the same connection I did when I met her or if he will do anything but admit what she truly is to us. “You smell like you just fucked a bakery.”
“I didn’t fuck her.”
“Not with yourlanger, but your fingers still fucking count. What the fuck is wrong with you? You should have brought her back here immediately. This isn’t a fucking game, Cillian.”
“I didn’t say it was a game,” I sneer.
“You sure seem to like playing with your food before you eat. This is a transaction, nothing else.”
“Da’ agreed to my plan,” I spit, and he raises his glass to his lips with irritation.
“Please, enlighten me.”
“We make her ours outside of the deal and work with the Barbieri’s since Matteo is no longer alive. Anthony can’t even keep a handle on his own sister, let alone all the trade deals we want to make happen. The Omega was the prime reason we wanted to work with him, anyway.”
My brother grabs a cigar, lighting it and bringing it to his lips. “Wrong. It’s why you wanted to work with the Amantes,” he amends.
“You know we have obligations, Finn,” I retort. We need to keep the O’Brien line strong, and we can only do that with a pack and having our own Omega.
“You. You have obligations. I never wanted this.”
“Then consider your hands clean of the fucking situation. Why do you even care?”
Finn glares at me as he sucks on his cigar. Declan is unnaturally quiet while watching the exchange.
Finn avoids answering my question and taps off the ash.
“It doesn’t matter, the deal was made. She belongs to us whether Anthony Amante delivers her in a pretty white dress or we take her ourselves. It’s a matter of principle and not allowing our family to look weak.”
There’s so much that he isn’t saying, so much that Declan and I ignore, despite his shitty attitude, I don’t feel like discussing all of my brother’s darkest secrets at the moment.
“Where is she? Let’s go collect our little prize,” he says sardonically, and I really want to punch him, though it’s a fight I know I won’t win. But when it comes to Elena, I need him to understand my reasoning.
“I don’t want to take her as a captive. I want her to come on her own accord. That’s the only way this works.”
He laughs at me like I’m stupid, and maybe I am.
“That tender heart of yours will get you killed, brother. Tell me where she is, and I’ll collect her myself.”
“If we take her, then neither of the families will want to work with us.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
I enter his space, but he doesn’t even get up from his chair or act imposed by my presence. We may be twins, but we couldn’t be more different.
“For someone who wants nothing to do with her, you seem to care a lot about her whereabouts,brother.”
Finn slowly stands until we’re eye to eye. Dark green eyes, the same as mine, looking back at me. He smacks me playfully against the face and smiles.
