Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I pulled away from Niamh, and waited to make sure I hadn’t woken her. I made my way over to the door, opened, closed it, and then went to my spare bedroom. Ivan was already waiting, the door was open, and I stepped inside.
“Niamh okay?” he asked.
“You gave her a fucking choice?” I asked. I wasn’t going to lead with that, but I didn’t like it.
“In case you didn’t know, Niamh is a very rich woman and she can do or be anything she wants. She doesn’t need you or me, and yes, I have given her a choice. It’s what she deserves.”
I was so fucking pissed off, but I didn’t comment. I couldn’t.
“I want to kill her father,” I said.
“I know.”
“What do you need from him?”
Ivan’s got this look, it’s hard to explain, but it’s that look that says he’s got something planned but he’s not going to tell me what it is exactly, and that was even more irritating.
“For fuck’s sake, Ivan, what more is it going to take for me to prove to you that I’m not here to make waves?” I was past caring about protocol or showing respect. There were no soldiers around.
Ivan was my friend, at least that was the assumption I had.
“Some things are best left unsaid,” Ivan said. “There are plans in place. I need Finn Byrne to be exactly where I need him to be for now.”
And once again I was frustrated.
“You know, if you have a problem with me giving Niamh a choice, which you clearly seem to, maybe it would be in your best interest to give her a reason to make the right choice.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“If you love her, then let her know it.”
“I don’t do love.”
Ivan smiled. “You know, we as men make those excuses all the time, but it’s only when we’re really tested and we finally lose something or someone we love, that we realize how precious it is.”
I stared at Ivan. “Have you lost someone?” I asked.
“Good night, Peter.”
And he moved toward the door, which told me that was all I would get tonight.
Chapter Eighteen
Niamh
I was tired when I woke up the following morning, but I was also happy there was no sign of Peter. I didn’t know why I suddenly cried last night, but I just couldn’t stop it.
It had been years since I last sobbed in that way, and certainly never in front of anyone. I think the last time I had cried like that, had been on my eighteenth birthday. My mom had forgotten, Dad had hit me with his belt, and, well, there had been no cake, no celebration. Just pain and that coldhearted reminder that I was alone in the world.
After going to the bathroom, I fixed a robe around my body and stepped out into the main penthouse, only to come to a pause when I saw Ivan sitting at the dining room table. At first, I was perfectly still.
I’d already seen that I looked a mess in the bathroom. My eyes were still poofy and slightly bloodshot.
“You’re still here,” I said.
“Good morning to you too.”
“I’m sorry.” I noticed a mug already in front of him. “Coffee.”
“I’m already full. There is breakfast waiting for you in the oven.”
“You cook?” I asked.
“Sometimes, but Peter made this for you, and he told me to tell you to eat.”
Peter was trying to take care of me. I thought back to last night—how he walked back into the bedroom and then just wrapped his arms around me, like he didn’t want to let me go. I didn’t want to let him go, not for a second.
Walking into the kitchen, the scent of coffee was too good to resist. One peek in the oven and it looked like baked oatmeal. I got it out of the oven and scooped some into a bowl, before taking a bite. It was delicious with a hint of sweetness, apple, and cinnamon. A favorite of mine.
Loaded up with breakfast and coffee, I was tempted to stay in the kitchen, but I didn’t want Ivan to see me as I attempted to hide.
Stepping back into the main dining room, Ivan was still at the table. He looked so calm, so collected, and underneath that exterior of coolness, a monster was waiting to be unleashed.
“No one knows you were married before, do they?” I asked, knowing I’d already asked this before, but he didn’t give me an answer. I didn’t think he was ever going to give me one.
“No.”
“You don’t want them to know?”
“No.”
I nodded. “What do I do if Peter asks?”
“Simple, you don’t tell him what you know.”
“But that is keeping secrets from my husband.”
Ivan shrugged. “Will he still be your husband for long?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. I took a sip of my coffee and then scooped some of the oatmeal. Like I knew it would be, it was so good. I closed my eyes and savored every bite. “It was good.”