Page 104 of Dublin Beast

He considered it avenging his father’s death.

I see how they would make an exception about Siobhan being a woman for that. It was a special case.

Have there been other women killed?

“Harper, whether you believe me or not, what Bryan did was his way of honoring our father and ending a situation that had the potential to bring down everyone he loved. My unborn child wouldn’t have gotten to be raised by its father. My brothers would be torn from the women they love. The Quinns wouldn’t be there to stand against the violence of the McGuires. Do you know how many women and children would be killed if that happened?”

No, I don’t, but I see his point.

Kill one to save many.

The only question I have now is… can I live with that?

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Bryan

Iclose my eyes and lean my head back against the seat.

It’s been four years since I stepped foot insideAshwin’s. Four years since I sat at the corner booth with Yasmine’s ankle brushing mine beneath the table and her laugh lighting up the whole bloody room. Four years since I tasted her mother’s lamb vindaloo and swore it was better than sex.

They were so damn good to me.

Riya treated me like a son. Ashwin used to rib me like I was already family. I washomein that place—fed, loved, teased, and nurtured in a way I had never felt after Ma died.

I didn’t just love Yasmine—I lovedthem.

And I abandoned them.

My fingers clench tighter around the steering wheel, the leather groaning beneath the pressure. Yasmine made me promise.No disappearing act, Bryan. Don’t pull away from them. They’ll need you, and you’ll need them.

But I broke that promise—I brokeso manypromises.

Because walking into that restaurant after she was gone felt like dragging my heart across broken glass. Everything reminded me of her. Riya’s smile. Ashwin’s mannerisms. Her ghost haunted me in every fucking corner of that restaurant.

And then time passed.

And the guilt festered.

The longer I stayed away, the harder it became to go back. The harder it became to bethatBryan again—the one they loved. The one Yas loved.

I’m not him anymore.

I’m the Dublin Beast now. The enforcer. The criminal. My name makes people whisper and cross the street. My fists settle scores, and it never even occurred to me that it shouldn’t feel so good.

If they watch the news, they’ve seen the stories—theyknow.

They’re probably glad Yas died before she saw what I would become. But if she hadn’t died… would Ibethis man? Would I have turned this brutal? This cold?

Or would her love have saved me from the blood and anger and anchored me in the light?

I’ll never know. Life’s a fickle bitch. A twisted game of ifs and whens and maybes.

I flex my hands and release the wheel, shaking them out. My palms ache from the tension, from holding too tight for too long.

Strongest man in Northside, they say.

Could snap a man’s neck with one hand. Take down three without breaking a sweat. Made of iron and ice.

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