“Yes, Daddy.” The words fell out before I engaged my brain. For a horrible moment, I cringed, but the way his eyes turned molten told me he liked me calling him ‘daddy’. And from the way my pussy clenched, I did too.
Conal sat up on Ronan’s other side and yawned.
“Dammit, I need coffee. Lots of coffee. Jet lag is a bitch.”
“Then go find a coffee machine while I help pixie shower.” Ronan snuggled into me.
“If you help princess shower, we’re never getting out of this place,” Declan grumbled.
“Spoilsport.” From the way Ronan’s hold on me tightened, he wasn’t about to let me go in a hurry. Before I could protest, the screen door slammed, and we all heard claws tapping on the tiled floor.
A few seconds later, the bedroom door flew open.
“Mama says food!” Ferg shouted as he scrambled onto the bed. A massive hairy face appeared behind Declan and I almost screamed. Petal sniffed Declan’s shoulder and rumbled ominously, depositing some drool on his arm.
“That fucking dog,” he gritted out, snatching his arm back.
“Fucking dog!” Ferg yelled as he bounced on the bed. Ronan yelped.
“Adiosballs,” he groaned.
“Tell Mama we’re coming,” I said to Ferg. He bounced twice more and hopped off the bed, scampering away while chanting ‘fucking dog’ on repeat. Thea was going to love us.
Petal threw one last baleful glare at Declan before she followed Ferg.
“Sadly, I won’t be coming ever again,” Ronan whimpered. “The kid has one helluva left foot.”
“Should have got your ass out of bed already, dickhead.” Conal punched his twin in the shoulder and pulled me off the bed. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s take a shower.” He threw a taunting look at Ronan. “You snooze you lose!”
I sighed.
Would they ever stop fighting over me?
Probably not.
63
Verity
48 hours later
The light in Sicily made me wish I had artistic talent. Lemon groves groaned in the heat, sagging branches pregnant with ripe fruit. The gravel drive leading up to our old house had become pitted and choked with weeds in the last decade. Ahead, the wrought-iron gates that marked the imposing entrance to my father’s estate came into view. I noted the thick chain and a padlock, along with a rusty metal sign warning trespassers to keep out.
“Why are we here?” Memories of the past threatened to overshadow my buoyant mood, leaving a foul taste in my mouth. I hated this place.
“Because it’s yours.”
“What?”
Declan didn’t reply to that question.
Ash jumped out of the car idling behind us, bolt cutters in hand. He snipped the chain holding the gates shut and tossed it aside. A minute later, we passed the empty guard house and approached the house.
I stared in shock at the blackened remains of my childhood home. While the exterior walls were mostly intact, the roof had partially collapsed, leaving the interior open to the elements. Birds cawed and rose as one into the sky when the car stopped outside the tall oak doors.
“Tell me what’s going on.” This was the last place I wanted to be. I still thought of Sicily as my home, even though I hadn’t lived here in years, but this house? No. This had never been my home. It held too many painful memories.
“The authorities confiscated the estate after your father’s trial, like all his other assets. It’s been empty ever since. The land has some residual value, but after arsonists set fire to the house, prospective buyers have shown little interest.”
