Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Kira’s smile is pure sunshine. “She is, isn’t she?”
Bane’s hand reaches out, fingers threading through mine. A silent I’m here. A wordless whenever you’re ready.
The thing about Bane is, he never pushes. Not about the important stuff. He might dominate me in a thousand delicious ways in the bedroom, but out here? He waits. He watches. He offers his steady strength without forcing it on me.
It shouldn’t work, this thing between us. The wild girl and the controlled priest. The chaos and the order. But somehow, it does.
We’ve spent the last months building something new from the ashes of what we had before. Something stronger and more honest.
There are days when I miss the mania—that electric euphoria, the feeling that I could conquer worlds. Days when the meds make everything feel flat and gray and I wonder if Bane secretly longs for the untamed girl he fell for.
But then he’ll look at me like he is now, like I’m the most fascinating creature he’s ever encountered, and I remember—he never loved me for the chaos. He loved me despite it. Because of it. Through it.
“We should probably head out soon,” Bane says, checking his watch. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”
Right. Back to England for another round of meetings about the foundation. Bane’s determined to put his father’s blood money to good use, funding mental health research, prison relief programs, and supporting programs for at-risk youth. It turns out my formerly penniless priest has quite the head for business when he wants to.
I’ve been tagging along, finding my own place in this new world we’re building. Turns out, my unique perspective on mental health systems is actually valuable. Who knew?
“Stay for dinner,” Domhn says abruptly. It’s not quite a request, but it’s softer than his usual commands.
I glance at Bane, who nods slightly. “Okay,” I agree. “But I’m not eating any of that keto shit you’re always pushing.”
Domhn almost smiles. Almost. “We’ll order in.”
“Pizza,” I demand.
“Fine.”
Kira and Isaak exchange a look that I can’t quite decipher, but it’s something like surprise mixed with relief. Maybe they’ve been worried about Domhn, too. Maybe they’ve been trying to pull him out of this funk for months without success.
Bane’s thumb traces circles on the inside of my wrist, right over my pulse. It’s a habit he’s developed. Like he’s checking that I’m here, that I’m real, and that my heart is still beating.
“Lily needs a change,” Kira says, grabbing up her packed baby bag.
Isaak immediately jumps to his feet to help, but Kira waves him away. “I got it.” She hefts her infant in her arms and sweeps out to another room.
For a moment, no one speaks.
Then Domhn sighs heavily. “You look... good, Moira.”
I blink, surprised. “Uh, thanks?”
“I mean it. You seem...” He struggles to find the right word. “Steadier.”
I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended. “Meds will do that to a girl,” I say, trying for lightness but hearing the edge in my voice.
Bane’s hand tightens around mine.
Domhn’s gaze shifts to Bane, something like grudging respect in his eyes. “You’re good for her.”
Okay, now this is fucking weird. My brother, admitting that Bane is good for me? Next thing you know, pigs will fly and hell will freeze over.
“She’s good for me too.” Bane’s voice is quiet but firm.
The two men look at each other for a long moment, some unspoken masculine understanding passing between them. I roll my eyes.
“Jesus Christ, just hug it out already so we can order pizza.”
Domhn snorts, but the tension breaks. He gets up to grab his phone, presumably to call in our order, when the doorbell rings.
We all freeze.
No one rings Domhn’s doorbell. Ever. He has more security than Fort Knox, and visitors don’t just drop by.
“Expecting someone?” Bane asks, already shifting slightly in front of me. The protective gesture would be annoying if it wasn’t so goddamn endearing.
Domhn frowns. “No.”
He moves to a panel on the wall, checking the security feed. His entire body goes rigid.
“Domhn?” I push to my feet, suddenly on high alert. “What is it?”
“Stay back. My security feed’s glitching.” He strides to the door with purpose, his shoulders set in a hard line.
Isaak immediately jumps to alert, hurrying behind Domhn, hand hovering at the gun on his belt—a new addition since he’s gotten all his licenses in.
Bane and I exchange a look, then follow, too. Whatever—whoever—is on the other side of that door, we’re facing it together.
Domhn yanks the door open, and for a moment, there’s only silence.
I peek around him, trying to see what’s got him frozen like a statue.
At first, I don’t understand what I’m looking at. There’s no one there. Just a wicker basket sitting on the doorstep, covered with a soft blue blanket.
And then the blanket moves.
Oh.
Oh shit.
Domhn drops to his knees like his legs have given out. With trembling hands, he pulls back the blanket to reveal a tiny, perfect face. A baby—no more than a few weeks old—with a shock of black hair and eyes the exact same shade as my brother’s.