Chapter 17
Fiona’s POV
The moment I yanked the tonic bottle off the table, I scooped up my mother’s wrist and practically hauled her into the kitchen, away from the grins on Killian’s and my brother’s faces.
“Mum!” As soon as we were out of earshot, I hissed. “Why would you say that? In front of him?”
She honestly just looked at me like, with a raised brow, like, I’m the one that’s overreacting. “What? You live with the man. You’ve been married for years at this point – why the shyness? You don’t think I don’t know what goes on between a husband and wife?”
“Mum,” I groaned, heat blooming on my face. “It’s not like that.”
She waved her hand and smiled knowingly. “It’s exactly like that. You’re just embarrassed. You always were.”
C
I couldn’t believe that I was having this conversation in my childhood kitchen, a bottle of fertility tonic in my hand, and my mother acting like she was the star.
It was after dinner, and night had fallen so quickly I hadn’t even registered how late it had become. I was about to suggest heading back, maybe escaping the rest of the night in the safe silence of my room, when my mother clapped her hands and declared,
“It’s late. You’re both sleeping here tonight.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Killian–Killian–said something first. “That’s fine. Thank you, Ma’am.”
I turned to him in disbelief. Did he just… agree?
My chest constricted for reasons I could not decipher. Or maybe I did. Perhaps it was the calm way he said it, as though it didn’t bother him at all. Like he didn’t care to stay–for me.
A warmth blossomed in my chest, despite looking away quickly to hide the smile forming on my lips.
My mother, who was always a planner, rushed upstairs with one of the maids to “make the guest room.” That left the four of us – Killian, my father, my brother and me – sitting in the living room, the lights off, the air suddenly heavy in a way it hadn’t been before.
We weren’t laughing anymore. My brother was tapping quietly at his phone. Killian reclined in his seat, legs crossed, utterly unruffled. I froze on the couch, hands folded in my lap.
Then my father spoke.
“Fiona.”
His voice was low, calm, but there was a heaviness in it I hadn’t heard since I was a teenager and getting scolded for sneaking out to go to parties.
I turned to him slowly. “Yes, Daddy?”
“I know everything.”
The words landed in my chest like a stone.
He didn’t shout. He didn’t raise his voice. But that quiet statement was louder than anything he could’ve shouted. I couldn’t
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Chapter 17
meet his eyes.
“I don’t know all things, but I know some things,” he said. “And I want you to know that I’m disappointed… not in your choices, but that you didn’t come to us. That you suffered all that pain by yourself. Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you come home?”
“I–I opened my mouth and said nothing.
He held up a hand. “Don’t say it was because you were protecting us. You’re our daughter. That’s what family is for.”
Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but I blinked them away.
“If only you had come home sooner, if only you didn’t wait until everything collapsed… maybe it wouldn’t have gotten out of control,” he said, the end of his voice softening.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” I said in a whisper.
He stared at me for a long time and then nodded slowly. “What’s important now is how you move on. Live well. Live in peace. Teach the past to remain, as it should – with the man who never deserved you. You’re better than him. And you deserve a better life than continuing to look at someone so irresponsible and selfish.”
I looked at Killian then – for a second.
And he was looking at me too.
Not just looking—seeing me.
The air between us shifted. I felt it. A quiet understanding. Something so close to warm, so close to… real. I gasped, and for a heartbeat, I saw something in his eyes that made my heart beat faster.
A spark.
But I turned my head away and lowered it quickly before my imagination drifted where it shouldn’t.
I know,” I said softly.
The whispered din of the living room hung in the air for a moment after my father spoke, and then he turned an inch, ddressing Killian, now.
—
All we need now,” he said “to find something dirty about the firm, Desmond’s firm. Something useful so he could shake he ground beneath him. And I think the best place to begin is with Edward’s death.”
sat up straighter, my ears perked up.
We have to show it wasn’t just a freak accident,” my father said. “We’ve got to demonstrate this is planned…methodical, hat they had covered their tracks so well it appeared a natural death.”
illian didn’t interrupt. He just listened, focused.
And that’s where we start,” my father said. “One thing will tie into another. It’s a trail. And we need to follow it.”
le leaned back a little, his arms folded. “Begin with all those who are dear to Desmond. His circle. His company. That’s
here the secrets are buried.”
here was a pause and then both my brother and Killian nodded.
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But then my father turned once more
–
this time directly toward Killian, his expression both stern and trusting. “Killian.”
+28)
“Yes, sir?” Killian said, in that calm way he always sounded when it was serious.
“Now it’s up to you,” my father said, his voice lowering. “This has turned into more than just my daughter’s hurt. If we’re going to bring that man down, we need your power, your name, your reach. You’re the only one that can do this safely.”
I swallowed, my gaze wandering over to Killian. But my father wasn’t done with me.
“And one last thing,” he said, lowering his voice. “Even if Fiona acts up” – he smiled slightly – “you should go easy on her.”
I almost choked, my eyes going wide. Misbehaves? What did that mean?
Killian glanced at me and a little, secret smile twitched his lips. My face was on fire, and I whipped around.
“I understand,” he said. “She’s my responsibility now. I’ll stand by her. No matter what.”
His words were so steady, so confident, I almost didn’t believe he’d said them. And yet, there was something about them that touched gutturally.
He’ll stand by me?
–
I blinked, taken aback by the warmth flowering in my chest. But I quickly shook it off. No I couldn’t let myself think like that.
Risky, thinking such things. Allowing yourself to surrender to words, to gentleness, to courage. That was how I was caught the first time. That’s how Desmond drew me in with fairy tales, then tore me apart after the curtain fell.
I had loved Desmond. Had loved him blindly, deeply … and it had broken me. So despite that Killian’s words touched some hopeful part of me, I reminded myself not to believe it. Not completely. Not yet.
However kindly he spoke.
However sincere he may have sounded when he said it.
Because the instant I trusted again, the instant I allowed my heart to lift, it could come crashing back down.
And I wouldn’t survive falling again this time.
So I didn’t say anything and nodded quietly.
In that moment, my mother’s voice came booming down the hallway. “The room’s ready!”
She emerged into the living room with a wide smile, rubbing her palms together in pride. “All done. I’ve made the bed up, changed the sheets, added lavender oil to the pillows. “You two will be sleeping very well tonight.”
I frowned. “Wait. You set this room up for… us?”
My mother was looking at me as if I were the one speaking nonsense. “Of course. What do you mean?”
I gestured vaguely in Killian’s direction. “But what about… his room?”
She blinked. “Did you forget you’re a couple now?”
I stared at her.
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“Fiona,” she said, as if it were already obvious. “Couples share rooms.”
This time I blinked slowly.
Then I said it, just, like, without actually thinking I said it because I was like, what? “What?“.
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