Page 9 of Finn

“Then be grateful for my leniency.”

I could tell he wanted to mouth off. Tell me where to go. But for once, he kept his mouth shut, glaring instead at the floor. I could almost hear his curses inside his head.

“Clean him up and take him to the safe house. Watch him this weekend,” I instructed, picking up my jacket and slinging it over my shoulder.

Brian had to push it. He always did. “Watch him,” he mimicked under his breath.

He didn’t see it coming. I delivered another blow to his stomach, one so hard, even I grunted.

He gasped, vomited, and passed out.

I looked at him in revulsion. “I need to head to my suite.”

In the car, Niall was quiet for a moment. “You showed great restraint,” he muttered. “I thought you were going to kill him.”

I glanced his way. “I’m sure that’s not how he’ll tell his story.”

“What are you going to say?”

I shook my aching hand. “The truth. Una is smart, and she knows the drill. I had no choice. I was going to let him walk with a threat and the new duties, but he had to mouth off. Twice.” I shrugged. “He brought it on himself.”

“Will Una see it that way?”

I shook my head, then stared out the window, knowing the answer.

She would not.

* * *

Niall didn’t speak the rest of the way back to the hotel. I used my private elevator and headed to my suite, standing under the hot spray of the shower, letting the water run off my back to help relax me. I flexed my hand, trying to ignore the ache. I was pretty certain that Brian was suffering far more.

And he deserved it.

Simply thinking of his words made me angry all over again. I finished my shower and got dressed, glancing at the clock. It was just after five, and the one thing I knew would relax me fully wasn’t available to me for three hours. I returned to my office, starting on the mound of paperwork. It would keep me busy until then.

At eight, I took the elevator to the main floor, striding through the lobby to the music room. I slipped in the back, the lights already low, and made my way to the alcove that was for my use only. I sat down, a tumbler of whiskey waiting for me, the bottle ready for another when I was. I sat back, sipping the golden liquid, the Irish liquor coating my throat. Hearing the piano music starting, I opened my eyes, resting my elbows on the table.

Una walked onstage, a vision. Gone were the simple hairstyle and uniform. In their place, a figure-hugging dress that touched at her waist and hip, the low neckline showcasing her incredible breasts. The emerald green of the dress highlighted the red of her hair that was swept up in a sophisticated knot, wisps of curls and long tendrils floating around her face and neck. Her creamy skin glowed under the lights, and I waited, barely breathing, until she opened her red-stained lips and began to sing.

Instantly, I was transported to another time and place as she sang a traditional Celtic song. Her voice was pure, soaring in the high notes, haunting in its richness. I listened, enraptured. It didn’t matter how often I heard her sing. How many times I heard the same sets. Each one was magnificent. Old songs, new ones. Celtic folklore. Reworked popular songs. She made each one her own. Every single one reached me on a level I couldn’t explain to anyone. She didn’t know I was there. I came in just before she started, and I would leave as she took her bow. I sent flowers every week without a card.

Respecting her wishes, even as it killed me.

I loved her with a passion I didn’t know I was capable of. Desired her. Wanted her time and attention.

I was totally and utterly obsessed with her.

And she wanted nothing to do with me.

So I stole these moments. Created a place where she could showcase her talent, letting her think it was part of the plans for the hotel all along, when, in fact, I’d made it for her alone. Others graced the small stage during the week and when she was away as well. Just as popular and loved as she was.

But not by me.

And they never would be.

CHAPTER THREE

UNA