Page 9 of Corrupted Pleasure
“You two are idiots when you’re drunk,” Wynter muttered, digging through her duffle bag. She pulled out her phone, then scrolled through her messages, confirming my earlier suspicion. She’d probably sneak out to go practice her ice skating routine. It was her idea of fun.
“You don’t have daddy issues, Juliette. Do you?” I questioned before I thought better of it. “I think I might have daddy and mommy issues,” I admitted, though, for the life of me, I didn’t know why. God, the alcohol still lingering in my veins would be my downfall. I didn’t like to admit to people that not having either parent with me while growing up bothered me.
Juliette paled and a soft gasp escaped her. I couldn’t understand what upset her.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, taking her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
A shuddering breath escaped her and for a moment, I thought she’d start crying. In all of our four years together, I had yet to see her cry.
“I-I found something,” she whispered, her nose turning red from trying to hold back the tears.
Ivy, Wynter, and I shared a glance. “What?” I asked in a quiet voice.
She swallowed hard, then took a deep breath, only to slowly exhale.
“I found two birth certificates,” she said softly, her eyes darting to the door as if she wanted to make sure nobody came in. As far as I knew we were the only ones in the house. “Mine and Killian’s. It has our parents listed as Aiden and Ava Cullen.”
A round of soft gasps echoed through the room and the silence that followed was deafening.
“Are you sure they aren’t your dad’s fake documents for you and Killian?” Ivy asked. “You know, in case of emergencies.”
Juliette swallowed and by the look in her eyes, I knew she had given this a lot of thought. She must have been pondering it for a while.
“I thought so too,” she murmured. “But I looked it up and those people existed. And had children of the exact age as Killian and I. It seems too much of a coincidence.”
“Could you ask your dad about it?” I rasped. I didn’t know much about my mother and the identity of my own father was a mystery so I could relate.
“Uncle Liam would tell you.” Wynter seemed visibly upset too. “Tell both of us.” When Juliette didn’t answer, she whispered, “Wouldn’t he?”
“I don’t know,” Juliette whispered.
“Cullen, Cullen, Cullen.” Ivy kept repeating the name. “Shit, my brain doesn’t work that great with shots in my bloodstream.”
“You think?” I asked her dryly.
She glared at me, though it wasn’t quite effective when she was tipsy. Then as if she remembered something, her eyes popped.
“Cullen was another Irish mafia family,” she whispered. “They were wiped out, just like the O’Connors.”
“Who wiped them out?” I questioned her, frowning. “And what do you mean by wiped out?”
“An accident,” Juliette added. “I read that the whole family died in a fire.”
“I think they were murdered actually. Both the Cullens and O’Connors.”
Wynter shook her head. “Forget the Cullens and O’Connors. Uncle Liam would have told us. If he wouldn’t, then Killian would. The birth certificates have to be fake. They have to be. You know how the Irish are about family. Killian’s going to take over the Brennan mafia. If he wasn’t family, he probably wouldn’t be allowed to.”
“Seriously?” I gaped. “That seems kind of unfair.”
Ivy shrugged. “Irish are all about family. Fair or not.”
“But don’t you find it odd we know nothing about my mother?” Juliette questioned.
“And I know nothing about my father,” Wynter continued.
“Not that we’re competing, but I know nothing about either one of my parents.”
“My mom died when I was a kid, but I know way too much about my family,” Ivy grumbled. “However, I agree with Wynter.”
