Page 149 of Sinful Sacrifice

Please, let this be the end of him.

50

Three Weeks Ago

The back booth of the old pub smells like feet and stale air.

Yesterday, I got a call from Riona, asking me to meet her. She also requested I come alone and not tell Cernach.

Poor thing didn’t know I loathe speaking to her father. The less information I can give the bastard, the better.

The smell of a light perfume mixes with the air, and a figure wearing a dark-hooded poncho slides across from me. Riona lowers the hood and stares at me, wide-eyed.

I interlace my fingers, rest my hands on the table, and wait for her to start. I’m not one to begin meetings if I didn’t call for them.

“Do you want to kill my father, Damien?”

I love when people get straight to the point.

I also love when they shock the shit out of me.

She looks me dead in the eye, completely poker-faced.

“Who’s that?” I jerk my chin toward a man at the bar.

He’s turned, his body facing the wall but angled enough to keep an eye on us. Riona entered with him, but they separated near the entrance. One thing she needs to learn is that I see everything.

Sometimes, I call it out. Sometimes, I don’t.

She remains stone-faced. “My cousin Kian.”

“Why is Kian here?”

“He’s my ride.”

“You could’ve called an Uber.”

“He’s also here to have my back.”

“I don’t like liars, Riona.”

She blows out an upward breath. “He’s my cousin and my ride, and he wants to make a deal with you as much as I do.”

“What kind of deal are you trying to make?” I grab the watered-down Jack and Coke that I’ve yet to take a sip of.

“We have a few things in common, Damien.” She clears her throat and straightens her poncho. “You don’t want to marry me, and I don’t want to marry you.”

I nod, silently waiting for her to go on.

“You want my father to die, and I also want him to die.”

I tap my fingers on the table.

She releases a long exhale. “My father killed the man I love. He brutally murdered him because he wasn’t acceptable as a husband and didn’t bring him an incentive. He killed him and then contracted me to marry you. For that, I need him to suffer.”

“Sorry, but I don’t do work with people I’m worried can’t finish the job.” I start to get up, but she catches my arm to stop me.

“Oh, I’ll finish the job, and when we’re finished, I’ll figure out a way to get you out of marrying me.”

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