Page 63 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

The fact that those thoughts made me even angrier was a problem I had no intention of examining. So I focused on the easier target—Sean. Because being angry at Sean required less honesty than being angry at myself.

I kept walking until I realized I had no destination. Even if I could leave the penthouse, I had nowhere to go.

The scene replayed again. Not the details, the feeling. That was what refused to leave.

Gabrielle had walked into Sean’s office like she belonged there. She knew exactly what to do. Exactly who she was to him.

There had been no hesitation in her. No need to figure him out. And that thought lodged itself somewhere unpleasant. BecauseIwas still figuring him out.

Every day felt like another locked door. Another missing piece. Another reminder that his world had existed long before I’d entered it and would probably continue perfectly fine without me.

I hated that thought. My arms folded tighter across my chest.

The rational part of me tried to intervene. It reminded me that I didn’t know what I’d actually walked into. It reminded me that assumptions were dangerous. It reminded me that emotion wasn’t evidence.

None of that helped. Because the problem wasn’t what I knew. It was what I felt. And feelings rarely waited for proof.

A bitter laugh escaped me. Great. Now I was standing around analyzing my own reaction like it deserved some kind of investigation. The truth was embarrassingly simple.

I cared about Sean. Far more than I should have. Far more than was safe. The realization hit hard enough that I immediately pushed against it.

That couldn’t be the issue. The issue was trust. The issue was secrecy. The issue was Sean refusing to answer questions and expecting everyone around him to accept it.

That explanation felt better. I held onto it, even as another part of me quietly recognized the lie. Because if Gabrielle hadn’t been on his lap, I wouldn’t be feeling like this.

I wouldn’t still be replaying it. I wouldn’t still feel this furious. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out. And for the first time since leaving Sean’s office, my attention shifted completely. Nora’s text was short. Just two sentences.

But it was enough to make everything else disappear.

I found something. We need to talk.

***

I hadn’t even reached the end of the corridor before I heard him behind me. Sean. I kept walking because stopping meant acknowledging I was waiting for him to explain something I didn’t want explained.

“Maeve.” His voice was controlled, all wrong for what had just happened.

I finally turned. “What.” That was all I gave him. He didn’t react to the edge in it, which irritated me more than I’d expected.

“You left before I could speak,” he said.

A short laugh left me before I could stop it. “Speak about what exactly?”

A pause. His eyes didn’t move away from mine.

“That wasn’t what it looked like.” There it was. The sentence I’d known was coming. I almost smiled again, but it wasn’t real.

“Don’t,” I said.

Something changed in his expression. “That didn’t happen the way you think it did.” That word,think, hit wrong.

“Of course you’d say that,” I said immediately. “That’s what this is always about with you. You’re trying to change what I saw with my own eyes.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” I snapped. The sound of my voice surprised even me. But once it was out, I couldn’t pull it back. “You don’t tell me things because you decide I don’t need to know anything,” I said. “You don’t explain anything unless it already suits whatever version of reality you’re running.”