Corrupted Union (The Byrne Brothers #2)

by Jill Ramsower

new Italian bride, Noemi. Their marriage solidified an unprecedented alliance between the Irish and Italians. And a year earlier, Oran, the eldest of the Byrne grandchildren, had married a Donovan girl to unite what was left of their dying clan with ours. The next key maneuver was to give us a better grip on law enforcement, thus my visit to Evan Alexander. With a little more finesse, all the stars would be fully aligned, and we’d be untouchable.

inside. A seat at the table. What better way to do that than actually sit at the governor’s family table?”

Oran had been the only one to know Brody changed his plans that day. It could have been a coincidence that the Albanians happened upon him leaving the club, but my gut told me it had been a setup.

I squeezed her arm. “No rush.” If I were her, I wouldn’t want to hurry back to Oran’s side either. I had a really fuckin’ bad feeling things with him were going to get ugly … sooner rather than later.

I performed the spot-check in a blink but otherwise avoided mirrors whenever I encountered them. I didn’t like to see what stared back at me. Who stared back at me.

What kind of person was aroused by a man holding a knife to their throat? It was a question I didn’t want to answer.

Granted, it wasn’t a passionate kiss, but Keir hadn’t kissed me at all, and my insides had swum with feeling.

I realized I was scanning the area for a short-haired, tattooed version of Thor lurking in the shadows.

his eyes touched me. “I told you, I’m auditioning right now, so unless you want to dance, leave,” he ordered in an arctic tone wrought with challenge. If he thought throwing down the gauntlet would send me running, he was mistaken.

“I dance, then you listen. Agreed?”

I began to sway and arch and roll my body in perfect harmony with the music. Up on that stage with the seductive pull of an electric guitar filling the air, it was easy to summon my sexiest moves. I simply imagined that Keir was the only other person in the room. That I was dancing for him alone—to tease him to the brink of madness.

That’s right, pretty boy. I have your girlfriend on speed dial.

“Watch your tone, Wellington,” I said with lethal calm. I didn’t care how upset he was; he didn’t get to talk to her like that. “Rowan wants you to know it’s over between you. My relationship with her is irrelevant.”

I hurried down to the second floor and had one foot on the main stairs before I realized I wasn’t alone. My entire body froze—heart and lungs and internal organs all suspended in time—as I registered that Lawrence Wellington was walking up the stairs with another man. A man with a gnarled scar stretching from his left temple to the corner of his mouth and frigid eyes so light blue, they looked bionic. A hailstorm of questions rained down in my mind. Why was he here? Who was the scarred man? Were they going for the girl? Had they seen that I’d come from the wrong direction? Even if they hadn’t, if they went to her room, they’d surely notice that the door had been left unlocked.

Then again, if he was going to hang around me for long, he needed to get used to it because that was what I did. I brought devastation to the world around me. It was only a matter of time before my dark influence touched him as well.

“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve your kindness. And besides, my cock’s been inside you. That means he no longer exists.”

I huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “You might as well tell me to do the opposite. I’m already halfway to freaked-the fuck-out. What the hell happened? Was I drugged?” The muscles in his jaw flexed with strain. “You were, and more importantly, we got married.”

I woke the following morning just as the sun warmed the horizon, providing me with the opportunity to watch my new wife sleep yet again.

“When you came to ask for my help, I looked into Wellington. I even sat outside his goddamn house watching him, and that’s when I saw men in possession of guns I’m confident were acquired from my family. Dangerous men with guns they shouldn’t have going into Wellington’s house like welcome guests. That’s why I dragged you from class the next day to tell you I’d help. Because if this had all been about getting to your father, I would have seized the opportunity the second you walked into Moxy. You were easy pickings. But I didn’t because I never wanted to put you in the middle. You think I would fucking marry just anyone to protect them? I did this for you because I fucking care—more than I should, it would appear.”

“That’s my girl. My wife. You’re mine, Rowan Byrne. All. Fucking. Mine.”

“That’s sweet o’ ye lass,” Nana said. “But for now, just hit me with a quick shot o’ whiskey, then I’ll listen in on the current state of affairs.”

“And what’s he goin’ to do te me, Jimmy Byrne? Put me in time-out? I’m eighty-five, and I’ll have a nip if I feel like it.”

Oran shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the desk on his way up. In the same heartbeat, Torin, Conner, and I drew our guns. “I did NOT set my father up to die. Losing him fucking gutted me, and if taking a bullet is what I have to do to prove that, then pull the goddamn trigger.” Oran’s eyes blazed. Seconds ticked by. Five. Ten. Fifteen. I slowly lowered my gun, though my cousins kept theirs raised. “Then how do you explain it all, Oran? Because we need some fucking answers.”

“I know you have a lot of old scars to heal, and we didn’t start down this road in the most conventional way, but the one thing in this world I never want you to doubt is me and my commitment to you. I don’t care what you did or didn’t do in the past. I don’t give a fuck about what your father does or how you ended up in my club. All that matters is that I chose you, and I will continue to choose you so long as you’ll let me.”