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Jacob raises a questioning eyebrow, so I carry on.
“And you don’t have to worry about Aidan. He loves you and he’s proud of you. He doesn’t care if you don’t want to get your hands dirty.”
“Aye, maybe, but I still feel like a pussy. You and Andrew would have seen it through.”
“Andrew would have hated it as much as you did.” My youngest brother also has an aversion to violence, though he does step up when he has to. “And don’t ever compare yourself to me. I’m not someone you want to emulate.”
The air between us thickens with tension. I don’t do heart to heart conversations with my brothers for this very reason. It gets awkward quickly when we stray into emotional territory. I stare into my glass as if the amber liquid it contains is going to reveal the secrets of the universe to me.
“So what are you going to do with Eleanor?” Jacob asks, eventually.
“Haven’t decided.”
He eyes me speculatively. “You like her, don’t you?”
The question catches me off guard. If he’d asked me if I want to fuck her, that would have been easy to answer. There hasn’t been a day since I first laid eyes on her at Andrew’s wedding that I haven’t thought about her on her knees before me with those plump red lips wrapped around my cock. But do I like her? That’s trickier.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“What will you do if Aidan orders you to kill her?” Jacob asks. “Will you do it?”
“No, I won’t. We owe each other loyalty, Jacob, not blind obedience,” I reply. “Besides, he doesn’t want me to kill her. He wants me to marry her.”
Jacob’s eyes widen. “You too, huh? You know he’s trying to get me to babysit some heiress. He thinks we’ll hit it off.”
It seems our brother is serious about his matchmaking efforts. I have no idea what’s got into him lately, but if he’s convinced us settling down will help the family, he’s not going to rest until it happens.
Then something occurs to me, that should have before now. It’s strange that they chose Andrew’s new club as the venue for interrogating the Bratva asshole they captured. I’ll bet my shirt Aidan knew Eleanor would be there. He set her up, set us both up. If I don’t want to claim her, the only option is to put a bullet between her eyes and he knows I won’t let that happen. Fuck!
Tamping down my fury at being maneuvered into this fucked-up situation, I focus on Jacob.
“What heiress?”
“Helena Spencer of Spencer Construction.”
I know the name, but can’t place it. “What’s Aidan’s connection to her?”
“He’s her legal guardian, apparently.”
I bark out a laugh. “Legal guardian. How old is this fucking girl?”
“Almost twenty-five.”
“And she has a guardian? What is this, the fucking Middle Ages?”
Jacob shrugs. “Her parents died when she was seventeen. Their will named Ciaran as her guardian. Apparently, they trusted him with their daughter. When he died, the responsibility passed to Aidan.”
This makes no sense.
“If he’s had responsibility for this girl all this time, how come none of us have ever laid eyes on her?”
“Well, I’m guessing he’s been pretty hands-off in his role as guardian.”
I shake my head in disbelief.
“Un-fucking-believable.”
“I know.” Jacob sets down his glass and gets to his feet. “I’m going to get some shut-eye.”
