Page 47 of Captive Bride

"No," Kieran said firmly. "I didn't tell him anything important. But I listened. And I realized he was planning something big."

“Which is?”

“He was planning to kill you, Tristan. And when I realized what he was doing…I knew he was already in their ear. You know, the lads? Yeah, he’d been planning to turn them against Malachy for a while.”

“But they were my friends,” I said. “I considered them brothers.”

“They loved you, Tristan,” he replied. “But…you know how it is. Once Malachy died, and with you on the run with Adriana…”

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "So they turned on me that easily?"

Kieran's eyes were full of sympathy. "It wasn't easy for them, Tristan. But Bellamy's been working on this for years. He knew exactly what buttons to push."

I clenched my fists, anger and betrayal burning through me. "And you knew about this? All this time?"

“I knew when he first went to Boston. I knew he wanted to take over. I knew he would do the power play where he said you weren’t Malachy’s biological son,” he said. “That’s why I planted the stupid box. It was fucking dumb. A terrible gambit. But I just wanted you to be prepared when he said that.”

I felt like the room was spinning again, but this time it wasn't from physical exertion. The weight of Kieran's words pressed down on me, each revelation another blow.

"Jesus Christ, Kieran," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "So you've been playing both sides this whole time?"

Kieran's face hardened. "No. Never. I've always been on your side, Tristan. Everything I've done has been to protect you."

"By keeping me in the dark? By letting me walk into this blind?"

“Everything changed after Malachy died,” Kieran said. “Honestly, I was always a little upset he never even considered me to be heir. But…I should have told you.”

“Kieran,” I said. “Look at me. You don’t want this.”

He didn’t answer that. “Do you have anything stronger than water?”

“There’s beer in the fridge.”

Kieran grabbed two beers from the fridge, popping the caps off and handing one to me. I took a long swig, the cold liquid a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind.

"You're right," Kieran said after a moment. "I don't want this. Never have. But I want you safe, Tristan. That's all I've ever wanted."

I studied my brother's face, seeing the weight of years of secrets etched in the lines around his eyes.

“I wish you’d never gotten between me and Malachy when we were kids.”

“Don’t be stupid. I would take Dad’s wrath any day for you,” I said.

Kieran’s expression softened. “Didn’t you tell your teachers you were in some sort of fight club? You had black eyes so often. Always meant for me.”

“You can’t put all the blame on Dad, lad,” I said, wheeling myself close to him. “You were always a nightmare.”

"Aye, that I was," Kieran chuckled softly, a hint of his usual mischief returning to his eyes. "Still am, I suppose."

I couldn't help but smile, despite the gravity of our situation. "Some things never change."

“They bought the fight club thing?” Kieran asked after a beat.

“Definitely not. But who was going to call CPS on Malachy Callahan?”

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our shared history hanging between us. I took another swig of beer, letting the cold liquid numb the ache in my chest.

"So what now?" I asked, breaking the silence. "Bellamy's still out there, and he's not going to stop coming for us."

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