Page 27 of Shattered Union

I glance around the church. So many faces, all of whom are here to pay their respects. My da. He died trying to save my daughter. My gaze finds Holly, her beautiful face battered and bruised. Her eyes filled with pain and sorrow.

We were too fucking late.

We could have lost a lot more than my father and a soldier. We still might. Things with Finn are touch and go. He lost a lot of blood. Too much. Now he’s hooked up to machines keeping him alive.

But Holly’s alive, and as fucking shit as it is to say it, I’d hope for the same outcome time and time again.

I take my seat at the end of the pew. Makenna is beside me, Cian and Patrick are sitting beside her. Then my uncle Killian, and my aunt Edwina are seated next to them. Fuck. All of their expressions are the same. Painful. Sombre. Wrecked.

Granda is sitting alone across from us. The way he wanted it. Burying your child should never happen. They’re supposed to live longer than us. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now. If it were me, I’d be on a damn rampage.

Seamus made mistakes in his life. With me and with my sister, Makenna. Because of his marriage to that bitch, Sharon, my ma was forced to go it alone with me. Not only did Sharon forbid Seamus to have any contact with Ma and me, she cheated on my da with Matteo Bianchi. Dante’s father. Makenna caught them in the act when she was twelve and Matteo beat her and made Sharon slit her throat. Thankfully, the bitch did not know how to do it and cut her too low in the throat, so Makenna survived.

Da lost his mind and killed Sharon when he found out what the bitch did to his daughter. No matter what, Seamus loved his kids. All of us. When we reconnected, he was honest and told me how much he regretted what had happened, how he had let me go. That my ma, Molly, was the love of his life.

Watching a grown man cry is hard, but watching your father cry is even worse. Delivering the news that my ma had died hit him hard.

I know I’d be the same way if something happened to Callie.

Heels clicking against the church floor gathers my attention. My body tightens as I see my fucking wife strutting her arse down the aisle toward where my kids are sitting. Hell fucking no. Holly does not need that bitch anywhere near her right now.

I’m up on my feet within seconds, striding toward the fucking cunt.

“Do you mind?” Zoe sneers at Romero, Holly’s husband. “I want to sit between my sons,” she sniffs, as she dabs a tissue at her eye.

Fucking hell, she’s a brilliant actress. The bitch never met Seamus. Not fucking once.

“Zoe,” I bite out as I come to stand beside her. “Take your arse to the back of the church and do it now.” I’m not having her here. It’s fucking painful enough without adding her brand of bullshit to the mix.

The smile she has is wicked, and I’m instantly on edge. “I’m so fucking glad I told your little bitch the truth.”

My heart stutters. She fucking didn’t. “Repeat that…” I rumble as dread hits me.

I already know the truth. The triumphant smile, the wicked gleam in her eyes. She told Callie, and no doubt enjoyed fucking doing it.

“Shit…” Danny rumbles, his hand running through his hair.

“That whore you’ve been fucking. She had no idea you were married.” She smirks at me. Pleased as fuck she knows she’s hurting me. “You didn’t think you could get away with playing me for a fool, now did you?”

I’m going to fucking kill her. I don’t have time to call Callie right now. Fuck knows when this bitch told her.

Pain laces through my chest. A heaviness settles on it. I can feel her slipping through my fingers and right now, there’s not a fucking thing I can do.

I sneer at the cunt in front of me. My hand clamps down on her arm. “Time for you to leave,” I snarl at her. “Go back to the hotel and do not fucking leave.” I lean into her ear. “Remember, Zoe, I’ll have you six feet under in cement. Your time is almost up. This has sealed your fate. You’re a dead woman walking.”

Her lips tremble as the colour drains from her face. But as always with her, there’s defiance shining in her eyes.

“Do not fucking test me, Zoe, you will not win,” I warn her.

God, the sooner I kill the cunt, the fucking better.

She huffs as though she’s put out and yanks her arm from my hold. “This is not over, Denis,” she warns me, raising her head and staring me dead in the eyes.

I glare at her, letting the anger I have for her seep through. She flinches, turns on her heel and stalks away.

Once she’s out of the church, I move back to my seat and bow my head.

That heaviness on my chest burns. I clench my jaw, at the urge to find Zoe and make her pay for what she’s done.

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