Page 88 of Revenge
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” I end the call and dial Angus.
“Ceannard,” Angus answers.
“Where are you?”
“The mansion.”
“Is Fiona there?”
“Aye.”
“Full lockdown. I don’t care what you need to do, but Aisling is not to leave the mansion under any circumstances.”
“Aye.”
I haven’t figured out exactly what I’m going to do. I know I can’t have Ava under the same roof as Fiona, but I won’t let Fiona take Aisling. She doesn’t care for her as a mother should. She would never be a proper mother to Aisling, and I won’t risk Aisling’s future or her life. But I’m aware I need to tread carefully. I have my children and the woman I love to protect, and I refuse to let them be caught in the middle.
The gates open, and I drive in. The mansion looks like a military base, exactly how I expect it to be. There are men carrying M4s everywhere, ready for anything that comes to our doorstep. I stop at the entrance, shut off the engine and take a deep breath. I’m a tough man—and ruthless—but I won’t harm Fiona. She’s still the mother of my child. Despite whom she is, she gave me Aisling, and I can’t forget that.
“Angus, where is she?”
“She’s in the baby’s bedroom.”
“It’s good to hear you speaking English again,” I mock him gently.
“Aye. Grams has gone back to Scotland.”
“Good. People might actually understand you for a change.” I walk to the front door.
“Congratulations on your mac.”
“Thank you. His name is Nikolas, and he and Ava will be here in an hour.”
“Aye,” he acknowledges as he leaves.
I’ve never had to tell Angus what I need. He always seems to know. His years of service and loyalty mean that he’s like another brother in many ways.
The house feels cold, and I’m looking forward to having Ava bring her warmth. I head straight to the stairs because there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable. Upstairs I hear Fiona’s voice.
“Are you sure? Impossible. When? You have to be kidding. Do you know where? I’m not sure. He said he was coming. If he thinks I’m letting him be with that whore he must be demented. I’d rather see them both dead.” Aisling’s door is open.
“Is that so?” I enter the bedroom, startling her. She ends the call. “What nonsense are you spouting now?” I demand.
“I don’t know what you mean, but I’m glad you’re home,” she replies with a smirk.
I look in the crib. Aisling is sleeping peacefully.
“We have to talk,” I announce, softening my voice, not wanting to wake Aisling.
“I bet we do, but I can’t right now. I’m watching our daughter,” she sneers, looking down her nose at me. I grab her arm, pulling her out of the chair. “You’re hurting me. Let me go,” she cries loudly. I pull her out of the bedroom and close Aisling’s door. “What do you want?” She crosses her arms.
“You’re leaving.”
“What do you mean leaving?” Her voice is loud. I grab her and pull her toward the stairs.
“Let’s talk in my office.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she shouts. I open the door to my bedroom and push her in. “Is this what you want? It took you long enough.” Suddenly she’s acting like a coy seductress. She tries to close the gap between us.
