Page 84 of Twisted Princess

Keoghan remains silent for what feels like an eternity, his cold eyes watching me without revealing a thing. “Harper!” he barks finally.

The door swings open a moment later, confirming my suspicion that my older brother was lingering just on the other side.

“Have any Kelly men been sent to New York in the past three weeks without my express command?”

“Yes, sir,” Harper says, standing stiffly to attention.

“How many?”

Harper casts a quick glance in my direction. “Ten, as far as I’m aware. Miko never returned.”

Interesting. So Vinny didn’t bother mentioning to his cousin that he got one of the Lycaon brothers killed. In fact, it sounds like he’s been sending assassins without even consulting the boss.

“Ten?” Keoghan growls. Rising from his chair, he slams his palms down on the desk with such force it makes the wood groan. “Why wasn’t this called to my attention?”

The irritation in his tone is apparent, and Harper casts another sidelong glance my way.

Clasping his hands behind his back, my brother squares his bulky shoulders. “Because Vinny said he got your permission to use our resources directly. Sir.”

Keoghan releases a low snarl, his blue eyes murderous. “Bring my cousin in. Now. I think it’s time we discuss this… misunderstanding like men.”

30

MEL

“Stop it!” I cry, struggling against Vinny’s hold. And I watch helplessly while Leon and Mishka slap the old priest around. My heart sinks watching his agony, but nothing I say is going to stop the abuse.

“I won’t do it,” the priest wheezes, glaring at Vinny with one swollen eye. Blood trickles from his nose, but he stands firm. “It would be a sin in the eyes of god,” he says, his conviction strong. He lifts his chin determinedly despite the tremor in his tone. “Pre Cana must be upheld. And we would need to hold Mass. That can’t all be done in one day.”

My heart aches to see his suffering, yet I silently plead for him to hold out. Because each moment he resists buys me more time.

Vinny chuckles, yanking me to his side. “We’ll just see about that.” He signals Leon and Mishka to turn their antics up a notch, then he leans close to my ear. “He’ll come around, love. Just give it a few broken teeth.”

His hot breath washes over me, raising goosebumps on the back of my neck. My empty stomach revolts, but I have nothing to throw up.

As if hearing Vinny’s words as a direct command, Leon brings the older man to the floor. And kicks him squarely in the mouth. I gasp, fear lancing through my chest as the priest cries out. And then he’s getting kicked between the two massive Russians, writhing in pain as they use him like a soccer ball.

How is this a solution? Beating a priest? If Vinny’s so glued to his faith, how can he hurt a man of god? For fuck’s sake, skip the religious rites! No god would condone a marriage formed like this.

Then again, Vinny’s not the one actually beating the old man. The bitter thought flashes through my mind with scathing fury.

It would seem that Leon and Mishka have no misgivings about brutalizing the poor priest.

For as religious as the Kellys might be, I would bet my life that Gleb’s brothers don’t have a drop of faith in them. And another puzzle piece slips into place to form the image of Gleb’s childhood. Like he once told me, he and his brothers were created to be capable of this violence. God and morals have no place in their line of work. I see that now.

A sob rises in my throat as I stand helplessly by and watch the old man get beaten. Guilt and pity gnaw at my stomach, and I tremble uncontrollably. But all I can do is strain fruitlessly against Vinny’s vicious grip.

“Stop, please stop,” the priest begs, his hands trembling as he brings them up to shield his face. And suddenly, he sounds so feeble, it breaks my heart.

Mishka and Leon pause, glancing in Vinny’s direction.

“Does that mean you’ll marry us, old man?” he demands.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you,” the priest agrees breathlessly, wiping the blood from his lips.

My heart sinks as I watch Keoghan’s momentary delay slipping through my fingers. Not that I can blame the poor priest. And even as Leon and Mishka haul him back to his feet, I wish I could do something to help him.

“We can… arrange for your Pre Cana to begin tomorrow. So long you complete the counseling, I suppose it can wait until after the wedding.” The poor priest looks utterly defeated, his shoulders slumping as his head hangs.

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