Page 113 of Deceived Wrath

Fiona almost drops her plate.

My eyebrow shoots up. “Interesting… You don’t deny it?”

Fiona does her best to ignore me, but the way her cheeks flush pink give her away every time.

It’s part of why I can’t seem to stop pushing her buttons. Seeing how easily she responds not just to my touch but to my words has my imagination running wild.

But that’s not the only reason I do it.

Her moving in changes things. Especially, considering the step forward our relationship took before Scout’s arrival.

Getting mixed up with me never seems to end well, and now that Scout is in the picture, I need to keep things simple.

I can’t risk Scout getting hurt.

Or Fiona, for that matter.

Chapter Twenty-Four

FIONA

It seemswhen it comes to Cormac Sullivan being an asshole, that side of him is purely reserved for me.

Scout, on the other hand, gets the side of him that is unwaveringly attentive and loving.

I guess my presumptions about his parenting techniques were completely wrong. He is nothing but a doting father who clearly loves his son more than anything.

While it’s heartwarming to witness, it’s making it harder and harder to rationalize spying on him for Lorcan.

In the beginning, I thought that, on some level, Cormac deserved whatever Lorcan had planned for him. Even once we put sex on the table, it didn’t change the fact that he was still an asshole. He was now just an asshole who gave me incredible orgasms.

But seeing Cormac with Scout… I’m failing to see the monster that Lorcan has made him out to be.

What if my actions have a domino effect on Scout? Could I live with myself if I hurt him?

I already know the answer is no, but I’m not sure what choice I have. I can’t back out of my agreement with Lorcan, and now that Amber is involved in the deal, I know he wouldn’t hesitate to use her in order to get what he wants.

These thoughts have been stuck on a loop ever since I found out Cormac had a son. And now that I’m living in his apartment, they’ve only gotten worse.

It doesn’t help that I don’t have much to distract myself with. Scout is a pretty lowmaintenance kid, and once he’s gone to bed, I have nothing to do but stare at the ceiling or go downstairs and battle with Cormac’s ever-changing moods.

I sigh. “Ceiling it is.”

My phone starts buzzing on the bedside table, and I feel a spark of relief.

I hope it’s Zoe. Right now, she feels like the only link I have to my old life, the one where I didn’t live in a penthouse with a painfully handsome man and his five-year-old son.

But it’s not Zoe calling. It’s an unknown New York number.

And my stomach drops.

“Hello?” I answer tentatively.

“Is this Miss Callahan?”

“Y-yes.” I clear my throat. “Who is this?”

“My name is Dr. Marcus Langford. I’m the Chief of Pediatric Cardiology at Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital.”