Page 54 of Dangerously Deceptive

That’s the name of our little girl. No matter what DNA she has, or whose name is on the birth certificate, this little girl belongs to Shayla, Kellan, and me. We all care about her just as much as the other.

“Is she okay?” Shay whispers, and Annette simply nods her head. After that, full sobs rack Shayla’s already broken and bruised body. Using her eyes to give me the instructions, this bossy but caring nurse tells me to climb onto the bed alongside Shay. As soon as I do, she cuddles up to my side, her head on my chest, and her arm wraps tightly around my stomach.

Once she sees Shay has settled into my arms, Annette begins to leave the room. I give her a smile of thanks. Although I’m not entirely sure I should be thanking her for making my wife cry.

Fuck…wife! I still can’t get used to saying it, but I plan to.

“Shay, I know you are hurting right now, but I need to make one thing very clear, you cannot ever leave me like that. You own a piece of my heart and my soul; without you in my life I am empty. When you’re in pain, so am I. I love you to the moon and back, and I will do absolutely fucking anything for you. I’m not going to go into details, but by the time you are feeling well enough to come out of the hospital, I promise the compound will be safe. The current Reaper Church is living on borrowed time. A new generation is rising up, and we plan to take over the Reapers, and refashion the MC to fit modern times. You will never feel unsafe on that compound again. You will not be treated like a second-class citizen. The next generation will give women the power they deserve. We will appreciate how beautifully brutal you are, and make sure you always know it. I know losing Hallie hurts, it hurts me too, but if you promise to fight, I promise I will love you, cherish you, and give you anything you have ever wanted. Do you promise to fight?” I ask, tears that I tried to hold back now falling down my stubbled cheeks.

Taking a big, deep breath, Shay pushes herself up so her emerald green eyes are able to connect with mine. It’s like she wants me to know how serious she is about her answer. “I will fight.”

My heart soars, and I vow that together we will fight all our demons and I will give her the life she deserves.

The End

DOYOU WANT TO SEE KELLAN GET HIS HAPPILY EVER AFTER?

Then you need to readTrust in Me!

HAVEYOU READ ABOUT THE GIRL WHO BRINGS BIG, STRONG HITMAN LIAM TO HIS KNEES?

If you haven’t you need to readBlack Wedding!

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Dangerously Deceptive and if you did then you really need to read the other books in the Beautifully Brutal series.

Dangerously Deceptive is a prequel, set in the Beautifully Brutal Series world. All the books in the series are interconnected. Whilst this book could be read on its own, it is better if you read all the books. Below you will find the recommended reading order, although both this book and The Ties We Break are set before Black Wedding, reading in this order is the ideal sequence.

Other Books in the Beautifully Brutal Series:

Black Wedding- Bree and Liam’s Story - Available To Buy Now

Dangerously Deceptive- Kellan’s prequel - Pre-order Now

Trust in Me- Kellan and Mia’s Story - Pre-order Now

The Ties We Break- Prequel - Declan & Belle’s story- Coming Spring 2022.

Fighting To Be Free- Kian and Freya’s Story- Coming Late 2022

If you enjoyed Dangerously Deceptive, then you have to read Kellan’s happily ever after in Trust in Me. But, until that is released, take a look at this sneak peak for The Ties We Break. This is a prequel novel set before the events of Black Wedding. It introduces Kian and tells us some more of his back-story before he moved to London to help Bree run her empire.

The first half of this story featured in the Once Upon a Broken Crown Anthology, but the full story will be released very soon. It’s a Beauty and the Beast retelling featuring new characters Declan and Belle.

Keep reading for a sneak peek at Chapter One.

“What do you mean all the money's gone?!” I yell at the pathetic excuse for a father standing in front of me.

“Don’t yell at me, Issy. I didn’t know how to tell you. I know both your grandma and Mum left the inheritance specifically for you, but I needed it. You don’t understand,” he whines, as I continue to pace around the shithole we call home.

“No, you’re right. I don’t understand. I don’t understand how anyone could blow thirty thousand Euros in just two years. What the fuck have you spent it on? It sure as fuck isn’t us because we still live in a shithole, and I’m the one putting food on the table, working all the hours I possibly can. This money was my way out, my chance to better myself. I have plans, Dad,” I cry out as defeat spreads through my body, my muscles physically sagging.

Flopping down onto the old, ratty grey sofa, I pull my knees up to my chest, wrap my arms around them, and let my head flop onto my knees. I can’t hold the tears back, they run freely down my face and I don’t even try to stop them. This is the first time I have cried in years.

When I was younger, tears used to be a regular occurrence. I would cry for all the things I didn’t have that other kids did; like money, food on the table that didn’t come from a fast food restaurant or out of a bag, and a mum. I craved all the normal things everyone else took for granted. Every time I got bullied for having ratty clothes or had to miss out on a trip because Dad didn’t have the money, I would cry. But then one day I asked myself why I was crying? What was I achieving by crying my eyes out every night? Sweet fuck all. That is when I decided I was going to do better, be better. I wanted to get out of Limerick, to go and see the world. But mostly, I wanted to get an education and train to do something I loved that would ensure I would always be financially stable.

I know that sounds weird and that most people would wish for riches, but unless you have been truly poor you won't know this feeling. You won't know what it’s like to crave just enough money to buy food to last until the next payday. That is how I have been living. The week before my father gets paid his money from the state, if he has had a shit time or he’s spent it before I got a chance to take it off him, then for at least a week, I know true hunger. I know what it’s like to go to bed hungry and to wake up hungry, only getting something to eat because I qualified for a free school meal. How fucking sad is that? So, no, I have never craved riches, just stability.

“I’m sorry, Issy. I wanted to tell you, but I just never found the right time,” he whimpers as he sits down on the edge of the sofa next to me. I feel him rest his hand on my knee, and I feel conflicted. I am so mad at him right now, I feel as though I could burst, but at the same time, he’s still my dad.

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