Page 180 of Making Choices

Looking around the room, my next move becomes clear.

I’m in charge now.

It’s the only way to ensure mine and Venom’s plans collide in a mutually beneficial manner. Certainty buoys me as my scheme solidifies. So much so, that by the time I settle myself into the president’s throne at the head of the table, my game face is in place, and my brain has calculated the odds of success for my next move more than a dozen times.

Toker’s double-take when he sees the chair I’ve chosen means nothing. The falter in my club brothers steps at the same sight doesn’t touch me.

My time is now.

“Duchess.” I gaze at Cherub, who’s hovering at the entrance as if she’s uncertain if she should stay. “Come here.”

As if on autopilot, she does as she’s told without an argument.

I push the throne back a foot when she reaches me, then gesture toward my lap. “Sit down.”

“On you?”

“Yes, duchess.” Snatching hold of her wrist when she hesitates for too long, I do the one thing I promised myself I’d never do after I lost control at the nightclub. I act like Venom. When her arse makes contact with my thighs, my arm snakes around her waist to keep her in place. “This marriage might be Zeke’s idea—’ I sneer his name to show my bitterness at his machinations. “—but it’s my dream come true and I won’t let either of you destroy it for me.”

“Carter—”

“Hush, now.” Cherub closes her mouth—an act of self-preservation. I can tell that my abrupt change of mood has unsettled her, yet I can’t bring myself to care. We need ground rules—rules that I’m determined to lay down first so she can’t sabotage us with her loyalty to Venom. “You’ve had your say, more than once. It’s my turn now.”

A whispered, “okay”, and a timid nod are the only answers I receive.

It’s enough.

For now.

After pulling Cherub hard against my chest, I use my arm to hold her in place as my fingers circle her throat. I make my duchess tilt her head. Force her to see the determination in my gaze. She takes my manhandling without protest. It’s a surprise to me. For a woman who usually violently resents being told what to do, my duchess is quick to acquiesce in front of the men that are filling the chapel without a fight. I nuzzle my nose along her jaw, then press a kiss to her plump lips. The woman on my lap stiffens but doesn’t pull away.

Claiming her so publicly is crass.

I don’t care.

“The shit that went down in the bar was only the start,” I announce to the room full of my trusted club brothers—the anti-Brutus faction. A murmur breaks out and I quell it with a hard look. “Venom made himself clear—I’m marrying little Cherub so she’s protected by my family—for those who didn’t hear Mumma’s confession, that’s the UK Trinity.” The brothers who aren’t in the know bristle with palpable disbelief that only dies once my dad nods his assent. “We will ask for their assistance in extricatin’ our brother from the setup enacted by Brutus and the Maddisons.” My duchess rests her full weight onto me when I confirm that Venom’s release is a priority. It’s akin to a shard of glass piercing my heart, yet I still breathe a little easier as the tension leaves her. “But before we can make our first move, we needa hold a truth tellin’ session. It’s time to clear the air, once and for all.” I let go of Cherub’s throat to beckon the only other woman in the chapel forward. “You’re up first, Nads.”

“For what?”

“Need ya to tell everyone what I did for you back in the day.”

Credit where credit is due, the short blonde woman steps forward without a quibble. Although she’s visibly shaking and my mother feels the need to pat her arm as she passes, Nadia rallies. Hands on her hips, head held high, she takes up residence next to Sander’s chair. It’s a curious choice. He’s a mess and she’s the unwitting catalyst of it.

Yet, as she begins the story that set the Shamrocks on the path to bloodshed that we’ve been trying to avoid for almost a decade, Sander takes hold of her hand in silent encouragement. “When I was fourteen, I stabbed my mum to death and Slash helped me dispose of the body…”

36

LILY

It was almost sunrise when we returned home from the compound, yet I bound out of bed before my alarm goes off at seven. The other side is empty, unslept in despite the promise that was made before I fell asleep, and the chair Slash was sitting in when I finally allowed unconsciousness to rescue me from yesterday’s nightmare is likewise abandoned.

After showering at warp speed, I blow dry my hair, add a little makeup, then dress in a tailored pant suit and a pair of kick-arse Louboutins. My mission is clear today, but I still take the time to peek in on Sander. After Doc x-rayed his leg and determined that he wouldn’t need surgery, a cast was fitted while Hunter disappeared into his lab to create a chemical concoction to counteract the drugs my father had injected into my twin.

That’s a statement I never expected to enter my head.

It literally stops me in my tracks.

Leaning against the door frame, I run my eyes over my twin brother. He’s sleeping peacefully in the room opposite mine. Apart from the swelling around his left eye and a light cut to his top lip, there’s little signs of the ordeal he underwent the night before last.

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