Page 112 of Broken Lies
Chapter Twenty-Four
RILEY
I never thoughta house could be intimidating, but the Sullivan mansion is exactly that. Its stone façade looms over me like some kind of fairy tale castle, except in this story the princes wear designer suits and carry guns.
I shift from one foot to the other, trying not to lose my nerve as I press the doorbell.
“Don’t be awkward,” I mutter to myself just as the door flies open.
A woman wearing a crisp navy uniform with dark hair scraped back into a braid stands before me, and she offers me a warm smile. “You must be Riley.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’m Elena.” She stands aside to let me in. “I’m the nanny, or rather, soon-to-be nanny.”
“Oh, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you.” I step over the threshold and quickly glance around the foyer.
It’s enormous, with a double-height ceiling overhead, and the two huge windows on either side of the front door flood the space with soft daylight. A sweeping staircase curls up to the left, and the marble floors are so clean I feel guilty stepping on them in my tennis shoes. At the center of the room sits an oversizedtable topped with a huge vase of white lilies and pale pink roses. It should be over-the-top, but somehow it isn’t.
What surprises me most is that despite its size and luxury, the place feels warm and inviting. There are signs of life everywhere, from the throw blanket messily draped over the bench tucked beneath the stairs to the framed photos on the walls of the Sullivan family at Ciara and Ronan’s wedding.
It’s a stark contrast to the cold and sterile environment of Kieran’s penthouse.
“Right this way,” Elena says, and I follow her across the foyer and into a bright, airy living room.
Ciara is sprawled elegantly on a massive sectional, propped up by at least six pillows. Her baby bump is unmistakable, even beneath her soft-looking robe. Her blonde hair is piled on top of her head in an effortless knot, and her face has an envious glow to it that I can only dream of achieving with a ten-step skin care routine. There’s a tray of what looks like half-eaten fruit next to her, as if someone’s been trying, and failing, to convince her to eat healthy.
She looks up when I walk in, and her face breaks out into a huge smile.
“Riley! You came!”
“I did.” My stomach twists. “Hi.”
She waves off my awkwardness like it’s nothing. “Come, sit. I’d get up, but…” She gestures at her belly. “Apparently, carrying twins means I’m forbidden from doing anything remotely useful.”
Elena chuckles as she collects Ciara’s empty mug and discarded fruit plate. “Can I get you anything, Riley? Water? Coffee?”
“An escape plan?” Ciara adds, and I laugh, feeling my nerves ease a little. “I’m okay, thanks.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Elena.”
As soon as she disappears, Ciara turns back to me. “Ronan’s even put the poor woman on patrol to make sure I don’t sneak off to do laundry.”
I laugh and sink cautiously into the corner of the couch.
“Is it really that bad to be on bed rest? I mean, think of all the reality shows you can catch up on.”
“Trust me, the novelty wears off pretty quickly. I mean, I’m pregnant, not incapacitated. But try telling that to Ronan.”
Despite the elegant surroundings and the intimidating legacy of her last name, I find myself relaxing a little as Ciara chats away at me as if she’s known me for years.
“I’m really glad you came. I was starting to consider faking contractions just to get some attention that isn’t about vitamins or how much water I’ve had.”
“Sounds fun.” I grin.
“Oh, it’s a thrill a minute,” Ciara deadpans, then grins. “Now tell me about life on the outside so I can live vicariously through someone who can still see her feet.”
