Page 44 of A Convenient Secret (Merged #3)

Lily

D eclan launches at Timothy, who staggers backward. Corm, Cal and Xander grab Declan, trying to pull him away, and other guests in suits intervene.

“Get the fuck out of my sight while you can.” Declan tries to break free.

“You’re gonna pay for this,” Tim snarls, shaking off the other men. He adjusts his jacket and walks away.

Oh my God. I should have insisted on leaving the minute I thought I saw Tim. Just a glimpse on my way to the bathroom. I should have trusted it. But I thought it was just a trick of my imagination from all the pressure.

“Your wife?” Corm asks, and I snap my head to face him.

Declan is shaking his hand, avoiding everyone’s eyes. But he must nod, or there is some secret communication that passes between the brothers.

Corm looks at me, then at Saar, who raises her arms in surrender, shaking her head to confirm it’s the first time she’s heard this.

“Why the fuck did we shop for a ring then?” Corm turns back to his brother.

Ring? Declan’s gaze finds me. There is war behind his eyes. A dangerous war that threatens to rebuild the barricades he used to hide behind.

I step closer, unsure where we stand but unwilling to continue this public display. Declan stretches out his hand to stop me, and something inside me dies.

He pulls a small velvet box from his pocket. “You can fucking have the ring.” He pushes it into his brother’s hands.

“What’s going on?” Declan’s mother shows up, and her two sons straighten up a bit.

She looks from one to the other. Jesus, out of all the places, this had to happen at her event. As if the situation needed a bit more drama.

“Nothing. I’m leaving.” Declan strides away, but stops and snatches my hand. “ We are leaving.”

I can barely keep up with him as he drags me away from the onlookers. We cross the dining room amid several curious gazes from other guests.

I try to smile at them, but then I give up and bow my head. We don’t look like we’re leaving. It looks more like he’s kidnapping me.

“Declan,” I plead when we turn the corner, heading toward the main exit.

“Not now,” he snaps. “Not yet.”

The wait for the car takes the longest five minutes of my life. Each moment moves slowly, wrapped in tension. Declan paces a bit, then he stands beside me. Not touching me. Then he paces a bit more.

I want to say something, but I think it’s best to let him work through his rage first. I should have told him everything earlier.

I thought at first our union was temporary. And then a cowardly part of me thought it would never get to this. That was na?ve.

But at the end of the day, I was worried about his reaction. It looks like that worry was warranted.

Declan halts and whips around to look at me. He opens his mouth, and then shakes his head like he’s changed his mind. He remains silent.

The car finally comes. Declan opens the door for me, and as I step closer he puts one hand on the small of my back, and the other one on the door opening to protect my head.

I cherish that small gesture even more, given the current temperature of our relationship.

“Mr. Quinn, is it true you secretly married Liliana Spinelli?” someone calls out.

I turn to see who it is, but I’m immediately blinded by several flashes. Declan swears under his breath and steps behind me, his back to the quickly growing group of paparazzi.

I slide into the car, and he follows quickly after. The flashes continue to blink as the car tries to merge into the traffic.

Driving in this car for several weeks now, I never realized how large it truly is. Declan watches the streets, pressed against the door, as far from me as possible.

I can’t stand it. Yes, I should—could—have told him sooner, but I don’t deserve to be treated like a contagious disease.

“Say something,” I urge.

He turns to me, his gaze blazing with all sorts of emotions. And while their range may be quite wide, I desperately search for affection.

“You know what I liked about you when you first crashed into my life? That raw honesty about you… In a way, you challenged me as a parent, but also praised me. That honesty in admitting when you felt vulnerable or out of scope. Your honesty in admitting the mix-up with my nanny. Honesty…”

I swallow, pain searing my throat. “You knew there was more behind the fake glasses. But it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you sooner. ”

“And then you went and told the entire group. Only because of the pictures, so I can’t be sure you would have even tried to tell me.”

I see his point. Maybe it wasn’t the best course of action to explain it at the table. But it felt safe. “I told you this morning I wanted to tell you.”

“Why did you marry me?”

Okay, that’s not what I expected. “To help you with the custody battle.”

“Just like that?” he snarls.

Don’t do this , I sigh inwardly. “Just because.”

He flinches. “But you asked for ten thousand.”

“I can return the money,” I say, annoyed because this is the last issue we need to discuss. Why is this so important to him?

“That’s not the point. If you wanted to just help, why did you put a price on it?”

“I didn’t put a price on it. I offered to help you, but you asked for a reason, and I blurted it out without thinking. You wouldn’t have accepted the help otherwise.”

“Why did you want to help me?”

“Why are you pushing this, Declan? I wanted to help… just because.”

He flinches again, and stares at me for what feels like several lifetimes. “That asshole claimed to be your fiancé. Who even is he? ”

Jesus. I didn’t hear that. That’s why he’s so upset. He has no clue whom he punched.

“Timothy Spinelli,” I say, and Declan frowns. “My cousin.”

His jaw tenses, and he pushes the intercom. “Turn the car around. We’re going back.”

“What? Why? What are you doing?” I scoot closer to grip his biceps like that can stop the car from turning.

“I’m going to finish him.” He looks at my hand on his arm. “Fuck, I almost left you there with him,” he murmurs.

He did? Shit.

“Declan, please, let’s just go home. Don’t give him a reason to come after you.”

He looks at me, and it’s like he sees me for the first time since the fight. His eyes search my face for something. I hope he finds affection, and a plea.

“You don’t believe I can protect you.” His words are like a splash of cold water, my skin erupting with goose bumps.

It’s a statement. Not a question. He says it with finality. Incredulity. Hurt.

“I told you already that I feel safe with you.”

“But you didn’t tell me about the real threat. You didn’t trust me with that information.”

“For the first time in my life, I was living on my own terms, and a part of me wanted to protect that. I worried you would dig into it deeper, and my family would discover me. Tell me I was wrong.”

“That man almost killed you. He should be in jail, not causing more trouble for you.” He grabs my shoulders as if he wants to shake me. But he just holds onto me, his hands trembling, his jaw ticking.

I need to divert him from this rage. It’s blinding him to what’s important here.

“You got a ring for me?” I divert.

He glowers at me and drops his hands. Not the best diversion, I guess.

“It doesn’t matter. Apparently you’re already engaged. To your cousin.”

“I’m not engaged.” I want to slap him out of this unproductive ire. “But I’m married. To you .”

“To help me with my kids,” he scoffs, turning away from me.

I clutch his shoulder, stopping his retreat. “Why are you really upset, Declan?”

“You didn’t trust me with your secret. You don’t trust me now with your safety.” His control finally snaps. That’s progress.

“I wanted to protect you—”

“That’s my fucking job.”

“Is it? Because I don’t think it applies to fake wives.” Not my finest moment, but the man is pushing all my buttons.

“Lily.” Warning rings in his voice.

“I wanted to protect you from the deadly family politics of my kin because I care about you, and I care about your kids.”

“And how would telling me the whole story put us in jeopardy?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, unsure about everything. “I guess I wasn’t really considering the scenarios. I lived in fear for months, so I got used to the idea of protecting my story.”

“You should have trusted me.”

“Yeah, it feels like it. Especially, based on your reaction now, returning to do I don’t know what to Tim. You were searching for him after you saw my scars. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you would have just listened to my story and resisted your urge to right the wrong?”

He glares at me, his nostrils flaring as he clenches his fists.

“That’s what I thought.” I scoot back to the door on my side. Maybe we need a bit of space. The idea guts me. I hold his gaze, the car feeling really large. “Even now, when I need you to stick by my side and make me believe that everything will be alright, you’re waging some personal vendetta.”

He glares at me, his nostrils flaring. After the longest staring contest, he punches the intercom. “Change of plans. Take us home.”

Round one done. I’m not sure who won, though. It feels like we both lost.

“We need to pick up the kids from the camp,” I murmur.

“Fuck.”

“…And then we planted twees. Did you know they awe just this tiny?” Zoya holds her hands a foot apart. “And it takes yeaws fow them to gwow?” She chats away, all hyped up from the day of activities.

The car stops at an intersection, and there is a tiny part of me that just wants to jump out and find another city, job, or friends. Start anew. Yet again. But the easy way out seems even more painful.

“Did you have a good time, Zach?” Declan asks.

“It wasn’t as bad as I feared.” Zach almost sounds excited.

“And now a sleepovew at Auntie Saaw. Lily, do you think the kitten will be sleeping again?”

I’m pretty sure Saar locks the cat in her bedroom to protect her from Zoya’s not-so-gentle handling. “I don’t know. She’s one sleepy cat. ”

“Yeah, pwetty bowing.”