Page 74 of Hidden Heir

“I understand,” Leon says gently. “I’m just making sure.”

I flash him a small smile. “Thanks.”

“We’ll start soon,” Leon says. “Once they get here.”

“I’m in no rush.” My attention drifts back to Paul. “I like watching him squirm.”

Leon leans over, lightly kisses my temple, then limps away. The people we’re waiting for are seen far in the distance, a black dot on the horizon that’s getting bigger with each passing second. I’ve never met them before, but Leon tells me tradition and honor dictate that they be here to witness Paul’s trial, so we have to wait for them to arrive.

I stare down at Paul, replaying every painful, terrible thing he put me through in my mind like a record. It helps to secure my resolve. My next steps will be far from anything I’ve done in the past. It’s unsettling but I’m determined, and I know it’s the only way I’ll feel at peace.

Eventually, a speedboat pulls up alongside us and several men climb out. One man stands out. He is taller than the others with blonde hair, square spectacles, and a tan shirt that clings to an impressively muscular body. He squints up and down the boat, then spots Leon and walks toward him. They speak briefly but I’m too far away to hear what’s being said though by the way Paul pales considerably and his chin drops to his chest I have an idea.

Leon and the stranger vanish from sight only to reappear a few minutes later on the upper deck next to me.

“Brooke,” Leon says, pulling my attention away from Paul. “This is Ronan Murphy. He’s the Captain of the Irish Mafia.”

“The Captain,” I repeat softly, staring up into his green eyes. “As in the leader?”

Ronan nods. “Consider me the Irish version of Leonity,” he says in a husky Irish brogue. “I have heard impressive things about you.”

“Really?” I squint up at him. “I haven’t done anything.”

“A woman that survived three weeks of torture and then shot Leonity Koval,” Ronan chuckles deeply. “I’d say that’s doing something impressive.”

Leon rolls his eyes slightly but he smiles. “News travels fast.”

“Indeed.” Ronan holds out his hand. “Brooke, I hope you can accept my deepest apologies for what happened to you and your family. I realize this won’t mean much, but Paul deviated so extremely from the norm that it’s difficult to stomach that he acted this way under my name.”

So Paul was Ronan’s responsibility? I eye Ronan’s hand, unsure if I want to accept.

“He was under your control and you allowed him do this?”

Ronan keeps his hand out. “Paul’s family is very small in a large school of fish though that does not excuse my lack of vigilance over his actions. When I learned of the missing drug shipment, I was informed that they believed the Russians had a hand in swiping it. I ordered an investigation, unaware that Paul already had a suspect and was attempting to start a side business. It’s my understanding that he was happy for the Russians to take the blame for the missing shipment, interrogating you so severely in an attempt to secure the drugs for himself and make money on the side. When I came to the city to investigate, that’s when he kidnapped you and Leon. He wanted to try and make it look like my presence had triggered Leon’s decision to flee.”

“If I was running for that kind of pocket change you could hardly call me Pakhan,” Leon murmured.

“Indeed that’s true. His reasons do not excuse his actions however, and I am deeply sorry that you suffered at the hands of men wearing my insignia. If you need anything from me, now or in the future, know that I will not hesitate to make amends.”

Ronan seems genuine. In fact, he might be the coolest member of the Mafia I’ve spoken to yet, ever since Paul turnedup on my doorstep thrusting me into this world. I study his face for a moment before finally taking his hand.

“Thank you.”

Ronan smiles briefly, then glances over the railing to where Paul kneels below. “Have you decided what to do with him?”

I look at Leon who nods. “Yes. We just need you here as a witness because he is your man.”

“I am here as long as you need me,” Ronan replies.

Leon turns to me, offering his arm. “Are you ready?”

I look down at Paul and then back to Leon. “Yes.” As I take his arm and we step away toward the stairs, an idea strikes me. I glance back at Ronan. “If you truly want to make amends, maybe you can help me with a project.”

“Whatever you need,” Ronan replies immediately. “We’ll talk after.”

Leon leads the way down the stairs and over to Paul, who is visibly trembling. My heart races, fearing that he’s going to surge up and attack me. I tell myself over and over again that he’s restrained and I am safe.

“Why is Ronan here?” Paul snarls, blood dribbling from his lower lip. “Do you think his presence scares me?”

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