I close my eyes, for once wishing Brigit weren’t so outspoken.
His eyes narrow, but his lip quirks up as if he’s amused by her. “Take Brigit to her room. You’re both to stay there.”
Brigit takes my hand. “I don’t want to leave Keira.”
Phoenix's lips curve into what might pass for a smile, but his eyes remain cold. "You have no choice."
The casual way he says it sends chills down my spine. There's no mistaking the underlying threat, the absolute control he now wields over all of us.
Fiona hesitates, her gaze darting between Phoenix and me. I give her a slight nod, knowing we have no choice.
"Come along, dear." Fiona gently pries Brigit's fingers from my arm. "Let's get you comfortable downstairs."
"But—”
"Now, Brigit." The steel in Phoenix's tone brooks no argument.
Brigit's bottom lip trembles as Fiona leads her away. She looks back once at Phoenix. “You’re mean.” She disappears with Nanny Fiona.
The silence stretches between me and Phoenix, thick with unspoken accusations. The stillness feels like a noose tightening around my neck.
Phoenix's fingers grip my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "How long did you think you’d be able to hide them up here?”
As long as it took. “They’re innocent in your vendetta. Let them go.” The idea of losing Brigit nearly brings me to my knees, but if I have to let her go to save her, I will.
“I suppose you want me to think this is where you were going last night.” His thumb traces my bottom lip, the gentle touch at odds with the fury in his eyes. “Clever ruse, really. Once again, I’ve underestimated you.”
“Phoenix—”
His grip tightens, not enough to hurt but enough to remind me who holds the power. "I don't want to hear your lies."
“You don’t seem to want to hear the truth, either.” I can’t say where my bravado is coming from. Desperation to save Brigit, I suppose.
"You know what happens to people who keep secrets from me?"
Before I can respond, his phone buzzes. He steps back, never taking his eyes off me as he answers.
"What?" His expression remains passive. “Good. Have everyone gather in my office. Now." He ends the call, tucking the phone away in his pocket. "Time to find out exactly what's been happening under my roof."
I nod. “I’d like to go to Brigit?—”
He laughs. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you’d like to do. You’re coming with me. It’s time to discover your secrets.” His smile is sinister as he gives me a push toward the exit. “This should be fun.”
8
PHOENIX
Iscan the faces of every staff member gathered in my office, searching for signs of guilt or deception. The girl in the attic, Brigit, has thrown me off balance. Her existence here makes no sense. When Blaise was undercover here, he’d mentioned Brigit saying she was a god-child of the Keans. Hampton and his wife had two children, but to my mind, it was more out of duty than the love of parenthood. Why would they take in a child who wasn’t theirs?
I recall Blaise saying that Keira was the one who gave the child the most attention. But whose child is this? The daughter of someone they killed? The Keans strike me as people who’d send a kid into foster care, not take them in.
Maybe she’s Ronan’s kid. He definitely wouldn’t want to be a father, but perhaps duty required that he keep the child. Where’s the mother? Now that Ronan is dead, the Keans apparently still feel a duty to keep the kid.
What I don’t buy is that Keira was sneaking out to see the kid last night. First, it was the middle of the night. Second, she was dressed for sex. So for now, the kid takes a back seat to finding out who’s been fucking my fiancée.
"I'll make this simple." My voice echoes through the room as I force Keira to stand next to me. "Someone here has been meeting with Miss Kean in secret. Step forward now, and I might let you keep your job. Maybe even your life."
The staff shifts uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances. A maid near the back wrings her hands in her apron. The butler's face remains impassive but sweat beads on his forehead. Only Blaise at the back of the room is unaffected, although a quirk of his eyebrow suggests he’s surprised by my assertion.
