Page 108 of Bound Lies

She chuckles. “Just don’t tell Ronan, or he’ll have my head.”

“He’ll have to go through me first.” Ciara is already reaching for the chocolate.

As soon as Elena disappears, I dive into the snacks as Ciara finds a romantic comedy on one of the streaming services on the enormous TV.

“This is amazing,” I say between a mouthful of popcorn.

“What’s crazy is that this isn’t even the media room.” Ciara laughs. “If you think this TV is big, you should see the one in there.”

“What is it with the Sullivan men and their obsession with having the biggest of everything?”

“I know, right? You would think that they were overcompensating for something, but if Kieran is anything like Ronan, there is no overcompensating necessary.”

I almost choke on my popcorn. “I think you would get on well with my friend Lucy.” I chuckle. “You have the same sense of humor.”

“You should invite her over next time. And I can have my best friend Mila join us too. That way it’s a proper girls’ night.”

“I’d really like that.”

We talk during the movie and laugh through the ridiculous parts and as the time passes, I relax. My shoulders aren’t clenched, and my chest doesn’t feel like it’s caving in. For the first time in weeks, maybe longer, I feel like I can actually breathe.

As I lie there, stretched out across one side of the couch half-buried under a pile of blankets, I can almost imagine what it would be like if this wasn’t temporary. As if Ciara and I lounging around like sisters at a slumber party while our husbands do whatever dangerous, secretive things they do, was my real life.

I imagine summer afternoons in this mansion, with kids running barefoot down the hallways and Ciara yelling from the kitchen while I help set up for dinner. I imagine Kieran showing up, his sleeves rolled up and a scowl firmly in place, only for it to melt the second he sees me.

It’s not a fantasy full of fireworks or epic romance, but something quieter and safer.

It feels like a real home.

I haven’t felt anything close to that since I was fourteen. Since the last time my mom and sister were alive and our house smelled like cinnamon rolls and my mom’s perfume.

The ache starts to bloom in my chest again, but I push it down, not wanting the familiar sting of grief to cloud the fun I’m having with Ciara.

By the end of the second movie, Ciara and I are both in a full-blown sugar coma, curled up on opposite ends of the massive couch with a half-empty bowl of popcorn balanced between us.

“You know,” Ciara mumbles as she fights sleep. “I think you will like being a part of this crazy family, Riley.”

I smile, my eyes heavy and my heart full in a way I didn’t expect. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

KIERAN

It’s just after nine A.M.

I’m sitting at my desk, sifting through reports, when the screen of my phone lights up with a number I don’t recognize. But the Irish country code gives me an idea of who it could be.

I answer without saying a word, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down on my desk.

“Kieran Sullivan.” The voice on the other end is sharp and composed, and I’d recognize it anywhere.

“Sean O’Keefe.”

“You and yer brother must think yourselves clever. Dragging some poor girl into this charade. I’ve seen desperate power plays before, but this? This is low, even for yer family.”

“And yet, here you are. Calling me. Sounds like you’re feeling the pressure.”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “No, Kieran. I’m making it clear that if this facade continues, there will be consequences.”