Page 60 of Destructive Truths

Ever since I woke this morning, I’ve been fighting an unsettling feeling shaking my gut, and it’s gotten increasingly worse since I stepped into Kill Castle. So, leaving Liam to watch out for Saoirse, I decide to use the time to scope out the venue.

It’s no secret that among us—Éanna and Lorcan included—we’ve pissed off more than our fair share of syndicate members, and with my father gunning for Saoirse, we need to be on high alert, especially on a night like tonight.

From the corner of my eye, I spy Finn Connelly—the Muster Syndicate king—sneaking out of the formal ballroom looking shady as fuck. Deciding to follow him, I sweep through the crowd, keeping a safe distance. Within seconds, I’m creeping down a narrow hallway as the echo of muttered voices draws me closer.

After slipping my hand into the back of my tux trousers, my fingers curl around the grip of my Glock as I stalk closer, keeping my back pressed against the wall and out of fucking sight.

The corridor angles to the left, and I carefully peer around the wall’s edge, spying on my father, Oliver, and Finn deep in discussion. Then, straining my ears, I inch closer, trying to remain out of sight but near enough to pick up pieces of the conversation.

“As promised, after her initiation, I will escort Beibhinn to Kinvarra.” Oliver shakes Finn’s hand.

“And what about my place on the board?” my father continues. “Will that be secure once everything goes according to plan?”

“Yes. I will handle your problem by the night’s end, and there will be no mistakes this time. Get her onto that stage, and we will handle the rest,” Finn offers with his lilting brogue.

My heart thunders in my chest. I need to get the fuck back to Saoirse and get her out of here. But right as I’m about to turn, I hear my father ask, “What about Reilly? We need to deal with him and that bitch Éanna tonight. If he is in fact Saoirse’s father, he can claim her seat and take over half of the Isle.”

I freeze, ears pricking as I try to decipher their hushed words. “Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do. But whatever happens, none of them will leave here alive. Mark my words.”

Panic skates up my throat as I weigh my options. I could kill every last one of them with a spray of bullets, but I don’t know what they have planned. All I know is I need to get everyone out of here… and fast.

Making my way back down the corridor—as quickly and as quietly as I can so I don’t get caught—I pull my phone out and dial Lorcan’s number. It rings a few times, but it doesn’t connect.

Shit.

Frantically, I push through the ballroom doors and scan the dance floor.

Where the fuck are they? My heart is in my mouth, choking me and stealing my breath. My eyes dance around the room, surveying all the faces, and finally, I land on Devereux. Forcing my way through the crowded room, I make a beeline for him. The closer I get, the sheer grappling fist of panic tightens because Saoirse is not with him.

Lunging forward, I slam my palms against his chest. “Where the fuck is she?”

His hands grip my shoulders, steadying me on my feet. “Jesus, Rohan. Calm the fuck down. Did you want me to follow her to the bathroom?”

I step back and plunge my fingers into my hair. “Yes. That’s exactly what I wanted you to do.” My breath quickens to a trot, and my heart pounds in my eardrums so fucking loud I can’t hear a fucking word Liam is saying. His hands are moving, his lips too, but all I can focus on is the impending panic flooding my fucking veins.

Flicking his fingers in front of my face, he snaps me back to the present. “Take a breath, man. Saoirse’s with Bev. She’ll be back any minute.”

Peering around us, I make sure there are no prying eyes or piqued ears, and then I give him a rundown of everything I heard in that hallway.

“Tonight?” His eyes widen, and I recognise the undiluted emotion that works across his brow because the same feeling is coursing through my every cell.

“What bathroom did she go to?”

“Fuck, Rí, I don’t know. There’s about a million fucking restrooms in this place.”

Before we can devise a plan, my father’s voice cuts through the music and fills the room. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and people otherwise identified. Tonight, we come together to celebrate our newest initiate, Miss Saoirse Ryan. Saoirse, can you please join me on the stage?”

There are no words to describe the fear that splinters across my chest as I stand frozen, watching Saoirse climb the side steps to stand next to my father.The crowd erupts into cheers, and I can’t form a logical thought. What I do know is I need to get her off that stage right this second.

Reaching into my pocket, I whip out my keys and toss them at Liam. “Here, take these and find Lorcan and Éanna.” Thankfully, he catches them mid-flight. “Let them know what’s happening, then tell them to meet at the manor.”

“What are you planning?” Liam’s brow narrows, eyes squinting with a million questions.

“I’m getting our girl off that fucking stage. Meet you back at the car?”

Liam nods, and I take off.

“Rohan,” he calls after me, halting me mid-stride, and I toss a glance over my shoulder.

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