“I never do.”
“And don’t expect me to trust her. That girl has an agenda, I just know it.”
Ronan ignores my warning and claps me on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go tell your bride-to-be the good news.”
I mutter a curse under my breath and follow him out.
Back in the weapons bunker, as Riley has christened it, she’s perched on one of the bar stools, her attention solely focused on Brennan as he sets down bottle after bottle of liquor in front of her.
Cormac is still in his seat at the table, tapping furiously away on his phone. The moment Ronan and I enter, he hastily tucks it away inside his jacket pocket.
Ronan ignores him and keeps his eyes on the girl in the room. “I have a proposition for you, Riley.”
Riley swivels on her stool and glances anxiously between Ronan and me.
I don’t bother to hide my distaste at what Ronan is about to say, and Riley seems to notice as the smile that was tugging at her lips after chatting with Brennan instantly fades.
“Oh?”
“My family will protect you, but it’s going to come at a cost.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve already decided? I will give you the documents—”
Ronan holds up a single finger, cutting her off.
“You’ll give us the evidence that links Sean O’Keefe to the murder of our father, and we’ll make sure no one can legally or physically force you into anything you don’t want to do.”
She narrows her eyes. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”
I tuck my hands into my pockets as I mentally brace myself for the explosion that is about to happen.
Suddenly, the soundproof walls don’t seem too extreme.
“We make it so you’re already married,” Ronan says plainly.
“Married…” Riley repeats slowly.
“Legally and publicly to someone that Sean O’Keefe wouldn’t dare to come after.”
“And who exactly would that be?”
Her gaze flicks to me, suspicious and calculating, and I take that as my cue to step forward.
“Me.”
Chapter Seven
RILEY
“You?” I stare at Kieran like he’s grown another head.
He, of course, doesn’t even flinch. He just gives me that signature scowl that I’m starting to think might be the only facial expression he’s capable of. “Don’t look so thrilled.”
“Oh, I’m ecstatic.” Apparently, sarcasm is my only defense mechanism now.
Brennan chuckles behind me.
At least someone is amused by all of this.