Ireland’s lips pursed. She’d been trying to envision a possible future of dating Ronan and kept running smack dab into a wall.
Gideon would be turning forty in just a couple of weeks, and Eva had been planning his parties for almost a year—one big blowout that would rival the masquerade and a more personal destination celebration. Ireland was used to having a great time without a plus one, but that’s because she was perpetually single. It would be a totally different story to attend family events alone while her boyfriend stayed home just to keep the peace.
“I just don’t know how we could make it work,” she confessed. “I’ve told him that. I tried to break it off, but he suggested something like Persephone and Hades—part-time in two places. But what’s the point if I’m hated there because of my name and he’s hated here because of what he’s done?”
You prize your independence, Ronan had said. That was true, but not in the way he meant. She didn’t mind being aloneand enjoyed her own company. An evening at home with Bliz, a pint of ice cream, and a movie was perfectly fine with her. But she’d also enjoyed waking up to lazy kisses as sweet as pralines, finding breakfast waiting for her in the kitchen, and having someone to act as a brain trust and sounding board as she tried to navigate running Vidal.
It was the first time she could recall feeling like she was getting more out of a relationship than her partner was.
But Ireland knew that wasn’t exactly true. Because Ronan had wrested her family legacy from her before they’d even met.
Elizabeth walked back over to her and began loosely braiding her hair. “I do have to ask you about something… Eva mentioned Ronan having a criminal history. He said you knew about it.”
Ireland saw the way Alina’s body language changed and winced inwardly. “I’m only telling you two this,” she said cautiously, “because I trust you both to keep it in confidence. It’s no one else’s business unless Ronan chooses to share.”
She exchanged a look of understanding with Alina, then looked over her shoulder at her mother.
“Yes, all right,” Elizabeth conceded.
Ireland took a deep breath. “I don’t know the details because I found out about his past through Angus. I thought I was taking a page out of Gideon’s book by doing a background check on a rival, and that’s true. But the other side of that coin is that I also invaded the privacy of someone I’m personally involved with. So I forced Ronan to explain something he wasn’t yet ready to disclose.”
Alina shook her head but at least looked sympathetic.
“Anyway…” Ireland bit the bullet. “His mother’s significant other—I don’t think they were married, but I’m not sure…the guy was also the father of Ronan’s brother and sister—I think he was abusive. Ronan said the man murdered their mother. And Ronan, at fifteen years old, killed him for it.”
“My god…” Elizabeth breathed, her fingers going still in Ireland’s hair.
“You wouldn’t suspect it, looking at him now,” Ireland said quietly, “but he had to steal food to feed himself and his siblings. His childhood was really rough.”
A knock at the door startled all three of them.
Hand over her suddenly pounding heart, Ireland tried calming herself with deep breaths, feeling a strange, frenetic energy in the center of her chest. Her reaction was extreme, a reminder that she was teetering on the fine edge between being okay and being far from it.
“Come in,” Elizabeth called out, her hands coming to rest on Ireland’s shoulders.
Two NYPD detectives walked in with badges clipped to their belts, glancing around the room and at the women in it with sharp, penetrating gazes. They introduced themselves as Vega and Jang, and told Ireland they were the lead detectives on her case.
She shook both their hands and thanked them for their efforts.
“We have some questions for you.” Jang pulled a small notepad and pen out of her navy blazer’s inner pocket. The detective was petite, her diminutive size emphasized by Vega’s hugeness. Tall with thick biceps straining his houndstooth sport coat, Vega towered over his partner.
“I hope I have answers.” Reaching up, Ireland set one hand over her mother’s in a silent offer of support. “I spent most of the time in a crate of some sort.”
“We found it.” Vega’s green eyes were made more striking by his shaved head. “You’re very brave.”
“I didn’t feel that way, but thank you.”
“We’ve seen the security footage of the abduction.” Jang’s hand was poised over her notepad but her gaze was locked on Ireland. “What do you remember after you were in the vehicle?”
For a moment, Ireland’s stoned brain was stuck on the fact that there was a video of her kidnapping. Somehow, that knowledge—plus being startled by the brisk knock at the door—caused anxiety to break through her drug-induced euphoria.
“I was tangled up in a cape or something,” she said carefully. “Some big piece of velvet. I was kinda wedged headfirst behind the driver’s seat, so I couldn’t really move or see anything, and they had metal music on full volume, so it was hard to hear, too.”
“Do you know how many people were in the vehicle with you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if there was anyone in the third row. There were two guys in the front and another beside me in the second row.”
“What did you overhear?” Vega asked.
