Page 34 of Illicit Heir

Devin.

Tynan.

Oh my God. How did none of us know? How did we not think?

I fret further, pacing the room and holding his wallet.

Devin O'Connor, the head of the O'Connor clan.

Well, not the head. His brother Brody and his other brother Aidan are higher up, but he and Tynan are still super powerful.

How did this happen?

I keep pacing, but no answers come. The longer I pace, the angrier I get. I don't even hear the shower turn off or the door open.

"What are ya doing with my wallet?" Devin questions.

My insides quiver. I spin on him. My voice shakes with emotion that I'm trying to hold in but can't. I accuse, "You're Devin O'Connor."

A quick flash of panic hits him, but then his arrogant expression lights up his face. I suddenly hate it. I want to punch him and erase everything that we did.

He stands taller, answering, "I am. And you're Lauren Byrne, niece of that bastard Tommy Ahern."

My gut somersaults. I drop his wallet, unable to hold it any longer, and grip the side of the sofa, choking out, "Ya knew who I was this entire time?

"Aye. Of course I did. It's my job to know who everyone is," he confesses.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I put my other hand over my stomach, feeling like I'm going to throw up.

How could I have been so dumb?

He stares at me, his face neutral, as if waiting for me to say something.

When I finally find my words, I can only whisper, "How could ya?"

He drags his gaze over my body like he's done dozens of times since walking into my pub.

"Ya may be an Ahern and loyal to the O'Learys, but we still had a fun night, didn't we?"

I lose it, shouting, "What the fuck are ya talking about? How could ya have done this? What is wrong with ya?"

His smile turns sinister. "Nothing's wrong with me, lass. I saw what I wanted, and I took it. But don't forget ya were a willing participant."

I toss my hands in the air and scream, "I didn't know who ya were!"

He grunts. "So what? Ya still had the best night of your life. Leave it at that." He goes over to the bed and puts on his pants and shirt.

I stare at him the whole time, still unable to move.

He spins and steps toward me.

I back up until I'm against the wall.

He crouches down, picks up his wallet, and shoves it in his pants. He reaches for my face.

I move my head. "Don't touch me."

He taunts, "Aw. Is that any way to say goodbye to me after we had such a lovely night?"

---