Page 50 of Beautiful Trauma
Callum’s expression became menacing. “You took it too far when you hacked our computers and drugged my brother.”
“The alliance between our families is dissolved.”
Dare snorted. “After all your bullshit, you’re fucking right it is.”
Ignoring him, Danill stared straight at me. “You will take the new marriage contract that has been brokered.”
As the blood slowly drained from my face, I proclaimed, “I will not marry Annika.” Although I shouldn’t have, I glanced at Mila to gauge her reaction. Relief flickered in her eyes at my declaration.
“You misunderstand me. There isn’t a contract between you and my daughter.” With a look of disgust, Danill added, “Trust me when I say I don’t want another one of you dirty Kavanaugh bastards tied to my daughter.”
“Then who exactly is the contract with?” I demanded.
“Brian Byrne.”
A collective gasp of shock echoed around the table at the reference to our cousin. For almost a century, the Byrnes had been running the underworld in Dublin. Our mother, Orla, had been a Byrne, and her marriage to my father from Belfast had united a stronghold in both the North and the Republic of Ireland. Mam’s oldest brother, John, had led the clan for years, but now his son, Brian, was in charge.
At what must’ve been our questioning expressions, Danill said, “Brian has agreed to an alliance with Annika. A Korolova alliance with the Byrnes will open up another European base for our shipments from Russia.”
“If you did another alliance without us, what the fuck was the point of this meeting?” Dare demanded.
“To remind you of your family’s weakness. I’m privy to so many of your secrets now, all because of a woman.” Pointing a finger at us, Danill said, “And if you ever try to betray or disrespect me again, I’ll sell those secrets to the highest bidder.”
Korolova’s words cut me to the quick. Our family was weak because ofme. It was first because of my compassion and then because of my cock that Mila had been able to take advantage of me.
Danill jerked his chin at Dima and Mila. As they rose to their feet, his gaze locked with mine. “Brian is expecting you in Dublin tomorrow.”
Since I was forced to comply, I didn’t argue with him. I couldn’t argue with him. They had us by the balls because of me.
Just before the door closed, Mila threw a fleeting look over her shoulder. The tragic expression on her face caused my chest to ache.
I was truly and thoroughly fucked.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MILA
Staring forlornly out the car window, I watched the landscape pass me by in a blur. Although I’d never been to Ireland, I had no desire to take in any of the tourist sites or culture. If it hadn’t been for the opportunity to acquire such an impressive collection for the gallery, I would’ve never consented to step foot in the country.
The irony wasn’t lost on me that after my involvement with an Irish man, out of all the places in the world a priceless collection would come available, it would be in Ireland. The call about the collection had come through just a day after I was still licking my wounds from the disastrous meeting with the Kavanaughs.
Although I often traveled to other states and countries to acquire art, I was in no mood to leave my apartment, least of all Philly. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t say no. I owed it to the gallery and to myself to score such a collection. It would be yet another way of rubbing my father’s nose in my independent success.
Glancing down at my lap, I eyed the glossy catalogue the owner had sent me of their collection. My finger traced over the image of a sought after painting ofRomeo and Juliet. Although the couple was wrapped in a tight embrace, the title captured the true essence of the story–The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.
I certainly could feel their plight of family dynamics fucking up their lives. If Juliet hadn’t been a Capulet and Romeo a Montague, they would’ve been able to ride off into the sunset. Well, barring the fact they were fifteen and thirteen.
If I wasn’t a Korolova and Kellan wasn’t a Kavanaugh, would there have been the potential for a future for us? That thought had been a constant in my mind over the last couple of days.
Of course, I had to reason that Juliet hadn’t seduced Romeo for information about his family. Nor had she drugged him after having the best sex of her life. In the end, we gave old Romeo and Juliet a run for their money for doomed affairs. Sure, they called it love after just meeting. I knew I didn’t love Kellan.
I’d just liked him more than I should.
And that I still liked him more than I should.
At that moment, the car came to a stop in front of a sprawling mansion. It looked just like the type of home a reclusive art collector would have. Excitement bubbled within me at getting a look inside at even more treasures.
After the driver opened the door for me, I stepped out onto the gravel.
Since I was flying back in the evening, I only had a small carry-on with me. After the driver got it out of the trunk, I mademy way up the stone steps to the front door. A butler answered the bell.
