The thought hardens something inside me. Whether she actively participated or simply stood by while her family murdered mine, the result is the same. She's a Kean. And all Keans must pay for what they've done.
I leave my office and head upstairs to her room, violent energy coursing in my veins. I reach the landing and pause outside her door. Two of my men stand guard, nodding respectfully as I approach.
"Has she been out?" I ask.
"Not since this morning when she saw the kid. It’s been quiet since.”
I dismiss them with a wave, waiting until they're out of earshot before I unlock her door. She needs to understand her position. Needs to feel the weight of what her family has done.
The wedding will go forward as planned. But it won't be the fresh start my brothers seem to think I should give her. It will be the beginning of her reckoning, a public reminder that the Ifrinns always collect their debts.
And Keira Kean owes me more than she could ever repay.
I find Keira sitting at a small table scrolling through a tablet. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. She doesn't notice me at first, too absorbed in whatever she's scribbling in her notebook.
For a moment, I simply watch her. The focused furrow of her brow. The way she bites her lower lip when considering something. Is she planning a wedding or her escape? Perhaps giving her some freedoms was a bad idea.
In three strides I reach her and grab the tablet, looking at the screen and then checking the open tabs.
“Is there a problem?” Her voice lacks heat or attitude. It’s like she’s resolved that I’m an asshole.
Everything on the screen seems to be related to wedding planning. Flowers. Food. Two dresses, one for a woman and another for a child. But I remind myself that Keira is intelligent. She’s smart enough not to get caught planning an escape.
"I have additional requirements for our wedding.” I shove the tablet back at her.
She looks up at me, her gray eyes guarded, wary. Good. She should be.
"Beyond the impossible timeline you've already given me?"
"The wedding will now include a loyalty ceremony. Every family in Boston will pledge their allegiance to the Ifrinn name. You'll need to incorporate that into your planning."
Her eyes widen. "That's… that's not possible. Not with only a week. The venue would need to be larger, the security arrangements more complex. I'd have to completely rethink everything."
"Then I suggest you start rethinking." I glare down at her, crossing my arms. "Unless you'd prefer for your parents to remain in that basement indefinitely."
She makes a face as if she doesn’t care. It unsettles me. Does she really not care or is this part of her effort to make me believe she’s indifferent to them? Ten years ago, she talked about wanting to get away from them. I’d promised to take her away. But when all was said and done, my parents are dead and she’s still here with her parents. Her words back then were another lie.
“It doesn’t matter what you threaten. You can’t expect me to pull all this off in a week.”
"I can and I do. This isn't a negotiation, Keira. It's an order."
She stands, color rising in her cheeks. "I'm doing my best in an impossible situation."
"Your best isn't good enough." I step closer, close enough to catch the scent of her perfume. Fucking hell, I want to kiss her.Not in punishment. No. I want her, the woman I thought she was ten years ago. I ache for that woman.
To stop myself from doing something stupid, I step back. "On top of that, we'll be having a smaller dinner tomorrow evening. A celebration for my brothers and the people who helped us reclaim our birthright."
Keira shakes her head. "You can't be serious. I won't have time to organize that as well. It's physically impossible to?—"
"You won't need to do anything for the dinner," I cut her off, enjoying the way her mouth snaps shut. "That's already being handled."
She blinks, confusion replacing her anger. "Then why tell me about it?"
"Because you'll be attending." Forgetting myself, I move closer, watching her instinctively step back until she bumps against the table. "As my fiancée."
"I see. So you’re going to parade me around as a happy bride-to-be?” She lifts her chin. “You must think I’m a good actress to pull that off while you threaten me and my family.”
I laugh derisively. “Oh, I know exactly what a good actress you are.” I grip her chin. “And you should thank me. Your family is lucky to be alive. Most people who cross the Ifrinns don't get second chances."
