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Shilo squints up at me, clearly taken aback. “He expects you to marry a woman even though you’re not attracted to them?”

My head thumps against the wall as I gaze straight ahead, sorting through my words. “The Callahan name is very old in Ireland. We come from a long line of power and money. Unfortunately, with all that power comes certain…expectations.”

“That’s messed up.”

“You’ve no idea.”

Though I’ve managed to avoid it so far, part of me wonders if this whole ruse with Olivia is my father’s way of pushing me to marry and produce heirs. Especially now, with him stepping down next year.

Speaking of which…

Pulling out my phone, I open my email to read his response to my dinner cancellation.

Ryann,

This is very disappointing. Your mother was looking forward to introducing you and your brother to her family.

I expect your presence at the Christmas party next month with a plus one.

Ronin

His threat is perfectly clear. By plus one, he means Olivia.

My stomach sours, Thanksgiving dinner churning uneasily at the thought.

“Your mother?” Shilo glances at my screen curiously, having read the email, and I quickly lock my phone before putting it away.

“He means my stepmother. She’s his fourth wife and about a year older than you. Also, his former secretary.”

His lips twist into a grimace. “Dating employees must run in the family.”

Giving him a ghost of a smile, I brush a thumb over his mouth, wanting to change the subject. “Will I see you at my condo tonight, or are you still ignoring me?”

Something shifts in his expression. His face tightens as he ducks his head, pulling out of my touch. An uncomfortable weight drops in my gut when he pushes to his feet and turns away.

“I…I don’t think we should continue doing that.”

My breath catches as I stand, following him into his room, where he starts to pace. “Doing what, exactly?”

“S-sleeping together.” Wringing his fingers anxiously, he stares at the floor.

I cross my arms with a frown. “Did you not enjoy it, doll?”

“Don’t,” he pleads, rubbing his sternum. “Please, don’t call me that. And I enjoyed everything we did, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

He swallows hard, the delicate column of his neck flexing. When his eyes meet mine, they pierce right through me. “I don’t think I can do it. Separate feelings from sex, I mean. I’m not like you.”

A sinking sensation spreads through me, sharp and painful, but I keep my face neutral “I told you from the beginning what to expect.”

“You did. And I really thought that I could handle it, but I can’t.” Licking his lips, he looks away, focusing on the door. “Every time we do something, and you treat me like garbage after, it makes me feel worse. For my mental health, I think it’s best if we just…stop.”

His words hit like a gut punch, and my first instinct is to defend myself, but the broken look on his face stops me cold. Because he’s right. I did treat him like garbage. He forgave me, and I was given another chance when I promised I wouldn’t do it again.

But then I took his virginity in the back of my car before kicking him to the curb like a fucking prick. For the first time in my life, sex felt like it meant something, and it terrified me.

Declan was right. I only know how to use people. Just like Ronin. Like father, like son.