Page 83 of Vengeful Union

My palms are sweating, but Rory doesn’t seem concerned. I envy his ability to keep his cool all the time. He’s always so calm, even in the face of all of this.

Niall stands at the bottom of the stairs in a tux similar to Rory’s, and I can’t help but noticing their similarities–the broadness of their shoulders, the height, their blue eyes.

It’s hard to believe sometimes that Rory, who has been so sweet to me, came from such a monster.

But I guess none of us gets to choose where we come from.

Niall looks up at us as we reach the bottom of the stairs, smirking slightly.

“You two look like a lovely couple,” he drawls, and Rory stiffens but smiles.

“Thanks, Pa.”

Then Rory curses, patting his pockets. “I forgot my wallet and phone.”

Niall huffs out a breath. “We’re going to be late, boyo.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Why don’t you go on ahead, and Lara and I will follow?”

“Nonsense.” He looks me up and down. "My daughter-in-law will come with me. You can follow after in your car.”

Rory swallows visibly, and I freeze, my blood seeming to go cold in my veins.

I’ll be traveling to the gala alone with Niall Murphy?

This can’t happen. Rory won’t allow this to happen.

“All right,” Rory says quietly, and I look up at him, affronted and frankly, terrified.

“Can’t let her out of our sight, after all,” Niall continues, and he holds out his elbow for me to take.

I slowly walk down the stairs, taking his arm with a shiver.

I look back at Rory as we leave the mansion, and he’s just staring at me, his expression blank.

Niall opens his car door for me, a luxury car, and I get inside. He buckles my seatbelt, and my skin crawls with revulsion at his closeness.

As he pulls off, I keep staring at the mansion door, as if hoping that Rory will come barreling out of there to save me.

“How are you liking marriage, Lara?”

I turn to look at him, blinking, surprised that he’s even speaking to me. He mostly treats me like I don’t exist or I’m the annoying family dog or something.

“Do I have to like it?”

He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road. “You might as well get used to it. You’re not going anywhere.”

I draw in a sharp breath. “Well, I’m stuck with it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

He chuckles, giving me a sideways glance. “I see the way you look at my son. I know you’re falling for him.”

“You don’t know anything,” I hiss, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Don’t sass me. You’d better be on your best behavior at this gala.”

“Or what?”

He looks over at me coolly and then back at the road. “You don't want to try me, girlie.”

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