Page 16 of Tempting Fate

“Ah, the mouthy little cunt is awake.” My abuser’s sidekick chuckles darkly as he pushes the bedroom door all the way open and steps inside the room. “Must say I’m disappointed… thought I’d steal a little taste while you were lying there, angel, moaning away like a bitch in heat?—”

“If you touch me, I’ll have you killed,” I warn Hugh St. James with absolute certainty in my tone. The son of the Maddison clan’s underboss shakes his head at my threat, even as he pauses his advance. Straightening my shoulders, I do my best to hide how unsteady my balance is, while I remind him that I’m not bluffing. “Alex or Zeke, I don’t care which one ends you… as long as you’re dead.”

“You’re so bloodthirsty,” Hugh admonishes. Clicking his tongue, he cocks his head to one side and grins. “I’ve missed you, Anna.”

“Feeling’s not mutual.”

“Figured it wouldn’t be.”

“What do you want?”

Even as I pose the question, I’m aware that I already know the answer.

Where I was once naive and uninformed, I’ve spent the past four years making sure that I’m aware of the big players in the underworld. Never again will I find myself left in the dark about the world I was born into. I will always wear the reminders of my overconfidence in my own abilities back when I was an eighteen-year-old know it all, but I won’t add to them. Back then, I tried to please everyone, refused to push back against the smothering affection of the overprotective men in my life, pretended I was content to remain their “little Cherub” instead of fighting to grow into a woman.

I mightn’t be male, but I’m a descendant of the founding six.

My power may be different to the kind my brothers will inherit—that doesn’t mean I’m not powerful in my own right. I have a place within the Shamrocks. A role that doesn’t force me to bow down to them. I can work alongside them, in coordination with them, not in secret.

I shouldn’t have to play games or manipulate behind the scenes to prove my worth.

That was my error five years ago.

A mistake that left me with lifelong scars.

From that debacle, I decided I can only call my misfortune a mistake if I learn from it.

Otherwise, it’s a conscious choice to continue embracing ignorance.

But, I am no longer ignorant.

I know who Alex really is.

Just like I know who his best friend is beneath his sneering veneer of superiority.

Hugh St. James is a violent arsehole who thrives on fear and pain.

I refuse to allow him to use mine to fuel his imprudent ego.

“Alex has a little itch he needs scratched,” Hugh informs me with a half-shrug. He blinks, ending our silent stare-off, smiling as he continues. “As his best friend, it’s my job to help him track down the Jezebel he desires to bend to his will.”

At the mention of Alex, my mouth runs dry. Despite that, I roll my eyes and do my best to act like his revelation hasn’t rattled me. “Not sure how you plan to do that. Last I heard, Australia doesn’t provide conjugal visits to convicted felons, so you’ll have to make do with blowing him kisses through the Perspex barrier.”

Confusion clouds Hugh’s gaze. I’m about to explain that I was alluding to him visiting Alex in prison when he starts to laugh, and it’s my turn to be confused. I frown, scanning his face for clues to his abrupt mood change.

“Oh. This is perfect.” He claps his hands together. “Fuck me dead, I feel like Santa on Christmas Eve.”

“Don’t care who you feel like,” I tell him. “Because you look like an idiot.”

My insult barely registers as Hugh chuckles to himself once more, then spins on his heel and strides out of the bedroom. He slows long enough to pull the door shut behind himself, and although I brace for the disappointment the sound will bring, I find myself oddly dreading the implications of his decision not to lock the door behind him. If I’m not confined to this room, the chances are that the house is a fortress I can’t escape, too far away from help, or a combination of both.

Couple the unlocked door with his strange reaction to my mockery about his close friendship with Alex, and I’m left wondering if my imprisonment isn’t the main aim here. With seventeen months left on his sentence, it doesn’t make sense for Alex to have Hugh kidnap me on his behalf.

Not yet anyway.

Could this have nothing to do with Alex and everything to do with my father’s previous attempts to ally with the Maddison clan?

I’m still pondering that question when Hugh returns. He drags his gaze over my body. His leering look travels from the top of my head and down my face, coming to rest on my breasts. The smirking man seems to enjoy the way I cross my arms over my chest and the defiant way I lift my chin when his focus returns to my eyes.

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