Page 31 of Villainous Soul

I smiled. “Who said it was a woman?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “You did. You said you found her dead one morning.”

“Aye, I did, didn’t I.” I paused, thinking. “It was my grandmother.”

“Go on.”

“I told you my mother was a heroin addict. Child protection took me away from her, and my father wasn’t to be found, so my grandmother got me.”

“I never knew my grandparents.”

“Aye, well, she wasn’t the cookies and cuddles type. She was more of a bottle of whiskey and pack of fags type. I would get home from school, and she would already be sitting on her chair after working at the factory, three drams into a bottle, blethering on about some injustice. She would send me a with a few quid to get a takeaway for our tea.”

“But she was good to you?”

“She didn’t want to be taking care of another child, but she cared for me, and she was the only person to tell me I was smart and if I worked hard enough, I would make something of myself,” I said. “One morning, I found her lying in her chair, only she didn’t wake up. She had suffered a heart attack. I was thirteen, and child services ended up finding my dad. I became his punching bag for the next three years until I was old enough to leave. It’s not a pretty story.”

“Look how much you have achieved,” she said. “You really are amazing.”

“I’m not so sure you felt that way on Friday,” I said, reminding her.

“No, I suppose not.”

“I’m glad I met you,” I said, taking her hand in mine. “My sweet lass.”

She smiled, but I didn’t miss the tears in her eyes.

“It’s better this way. You have your whole life ahead of you.” I rubbed the top of her hand with my thumb.

“I know.”

“The money is yours. Alan has already made sure it’s in the off-shore account. He’ll send you all the details.”

“And what about you?” she asked.

“I’ve got Bilderberg. It was my goal.” I looked at my phone. “I should make that phone call. The Registrar’s office will just be opening. I want to get a jump on it before Leonard does.”

“It was nice being married to you, Keir Wilson, even if it was only for a weekend,” she said softly.

“Agreed.” I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Mrs. Wilson.”

ChapterSixteen

EVIE

Two weeks later, I looked down at the velvet box Cormac held in his hand as he knelt before me.

“Please don’t ask me what I think you’re going to ask me,” I said as my stomach dropped to my knees.

“Evie, this would be the joining of two great dynasties. Our families would only prosper from this. I love you.”

“You only think you love me.” I motioned for him to stand up. The breeze from the ocean cut through me, and I pulled my sweater closed. “And I’m not part of a great dynasty.”

We stood on the beach as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, the soft wind blowing through my hair. “Yes, you are. You’re a Boyle,” he said. “The Boyles and the Sullivans finally united.”

“I’m a Young. The Boyle line died with my mom. My grandparents don’t even recognize us. And who cares about that stuff anymore.”

“Evie, I love you. I’ll take care of you. Say you’ll marry me.” His blue eyes narrowed. “It’s for the best.”

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