Page 137 of Lawless Rivals

“It means your brother did what he was raised to do.” His gaze slides to Fionn, then back to me. “Protect the Harrington name. Protect the asset. Protect the story before someone else controlled it.”

My fingers curl against the tablecloth. “You knew he’d go after me.”

“I knew he wouldn’t sit idle while Saint Tallon thought he was winning.”

He raises his tall-stemmed glass, the flickering light catching the red wine, so it looks like blood.

He takes a slow sip and places it beside his plate. Then he offers me a smile that prickles down my spine.

“Your brother and Riley work for me, sweetheart.” The endearment crawls across the table and leaves dirt under my skin. “And given your Harrington name, you do too.”

“You put it in my name after Saint took me,” I say.

My father’s expression doesn’t change. “Yes.”

“You used me while I was with him.”

“I used what Saint Tallon handed me.”

The answer is so calm it turns my stomach. And that’s when my father’s real face shows.

I always knew he was monstrous to other people. I never believed I’d be one of the people he’d sacrifice.

He put the land in my name and let Saint hang himself trying to reach it.

He didn’t need to order Fionn to act. He only had to trust that my brother loved me enough to make the next move.

My father only had to wait.

But he didn’t count on a Tallon caring about me.

That makes it worse.

My father didn’t risk me because he feared I’d matter to Saint.

He risked me because he was certain I never would.

When I press a hand over the ache in my chest, Fionn’s chair scrapes the floor as he rises.

“How about we go for a walk, Keira?”

My father lifts his knife and fork, ready to eat again. “Good idea, son. Take your sister to get some fresh air; she’s clearly had too much champagne.”

His gaze flicks up, holding mine. “Take your time remembering details on the Tallon family. Crowley will be here first thing.”

My mother lifts a hand toward the champagne bottle, and a server appears at her shoulder before she has to ask. The glass fills. Bubbles rise. Her mouth presses into something that almost resembles a smile for the guests.

“Let’s not waste any more time talking about that family,” she says, raising her glass.

Fionn walks behind the guests and heads for the door, expecting me to follow. Once upon a time, there was a version of me who wouldn’t have dared to argue with my father.

Fionn catches my eye, and the warning in his face is almost brotherly enough to change my mind. I walk around the table and stand beside him, then angle back to the guests.

“You can tell Crowley I met Saint for the first time at the gala,” I say. “I thought he was hot and went home with him for sex. I stayed at his place until I got bored, and then my big brother came to pick me up.”

My mother’s glass drops an inch.

Someone gasps at the far end.