Page 134 of Lawless Rivals

He checks his gold cufflinks and smooths his tie.

“He knew exactly what he was doing with you. Those brief moments that made you think you could trust him.”

He prods my chest. “That was him getting in here so he could do exactly what our dad is trying to do.”

My heart beats faster, and I hate him for aiming at it.

“He ordered you off his yard,” Fionn reminds me. “Remember that part before you romanticize it.”

I swallow hard and remember Saint’s expression in those final moments. The way he shut me down as if I meant nothing to him. I can’t forget being shoved back over the line I wanted to cross with him.

“He told me to go because the deal had been finalized.”

“No, Keira. He discarded you.”

“Oh yeah? Well, Saint never hurt me like you hurt Sera.”

Fionn straightens, his muscles going rigid, and his jaw locking tight.

The change in him is immediate and ugly, the smooth brother vanishing beneath something harder.

He comes closer, towering over me. “Do you think I did that to her?”

The question zaps the anger out of my mouth. Fionn watches me think about my answer, and whatever he sees there makes his voice drop.

“Or did they want you to believe I did?”

My grip tightens around the lipstick. I think of Sera. Of the story as it reached me. Of every person in his family choosing the story of what happened to Sera that suited them best.

“How about you tell me the truth?” I say. “Did you hurt her?”

Fionn stares right into my eyes.

“Did she tell you that herself?” He frowns. “Did Sera tell you I hit her? Busted her lip. Bruised her face?”

I think about the night she returned and try to piece everything together.

“She told me not to say your name,” I say. “But she didn’t actually accuse you of hurting her.”

His expression changes, the tightness lifting a little as he slots a hand into his trouser pocket.

“Good to hear not all Tallons are liars.” He pats my shoulder. “The best way to get back at them for kidnapping you is to talk to Dad. Saint doesn’t care about you, Keira.”

When he walks to the door, my stomach drops.

Maybe he’s right.

Chapter 35

Keira

Dinner is already underway by the time the conversation drifts to me.

I’m placed halfway down the table with Fionn across from me and my mother at my father’s right hand, where she always sits, one pale hand curved around a champagne flute as if the glass is part of her evening wear.

She’s not even touched the food in front of her, but the alcohol keeps lowering and rising, a ritual she performs between smiles.

Tonight, six guests have joined us. Men in suits with watchful partners next to them, all waiting for me to say something scandalous about the Tallons over roasted lamb and candlelight.