Page 147 of Forbidden Romeo

My name echoes around my mind as everything goes black.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Aimee

“Roisin! Stop!”

“Roisin!”

I ignore everyone around me as I push forward, launching myself up onto the ring from the sidelines. It’s not graceful, but I don’t care.

Not when my brother is about to kill Jack.

The anger in his eyes as he drags Jack’s unconscious body to the middle of the stage would send chills down my spine if I wasn’t already hyperventilating.

My foot finally finds purchase, and I push up into the ring.

Only for a pair of firm hands to drag me back.

“Roisin!” A man’s voice sounds in my ear. “You can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

I step on his foot. Hard. “Let me go, you fucking asshole!”

He lets go as if bitten by a snake. I get a quick glimpse of dark hair and notably Italian features before I scramble back up the side of the ring.

I look up to see Connor standing over Jack, his back to me. Kicking him over and over. The crowd boos him, but his confidence only seems to grow.

“Is this your prince?” Connor shouts out to his audience before delivering another blow to Jack’s stomach. “He is nothing!”

I scramble to my feet, throwing off my ridiculous heels in the process and sprinting toward them.

“You deserve a real heir,” Connor roars again, landing another blow. “Someone with true Irish blood!”

I don’t think, I just jumpbetween them.

I don’t register the pain at first. Just the fact that I’ve reached him, and he’s still breathing. Barely, but it’s enough.

It’s not until Connor has reeled back in shock that the wave of agony washes over me. I hold onto my stomach, desperate to hold back tears.

The crowds gasp in shock. Connor has just kicked his own sister. I hear them whispering, crying out for me. “Roisin! Is Roisin okay?”

I finally find the strength to stand. Pushing myself up painfully from the floor whilst still keeping myself between the two fighters. I turn on Connor, venom on my tongue…

… until I see his face.

His eyes are filled with tears.

He falls to his knees as he takes me in. As I take him in.

His face is ruined. Both eyes are now swelling around his broken orbital socket, and blood still drips from his nose, leaving red spots all over the floor.

But beneath it all…

“Connor,” I say, unaware that my own tears are starting to fall.

It’s been five years. The grief hits me harder than any blow he could deliver.

“Aimee?” he replies in disbelief.

---