Page 66 of Brutal Heir

There’s a man tied to the meat hook rail system with his arms stretched above his head, face bloodied and bruised beyond recognition. His shirt is shredded, skin slick with blood, and his chest no longer rises or falls.

“What the fuck—” I gasp.

Conall stands beside him, calm as anything, wiping down a small knife he picked up from the counter with a stained cloth. “Didn’t expect him to last this long, to be honest.”

My mouth opens, but no words come out.

He looks at me then like he’s proud of himself. “He sold us out. Passed info to the McKennas. Thought he could play both sides.”

“You tortured him?” I whisper, my whole body going numb. “Here? In my da’s shop?”

He shrugs. “It’s clean. Convenient. Familiar.”

“You’re feckin’ insane.”

Conall’s eyes flash with something chilling. Amusement? Satisfaction? “Don’t act so innocent, Rory. You think your da hasn’t done worse? Your brothers? This is the world you live in. You just haven’t seen it yet.”

“No.” My voice cracks. “This isn’t who I am.”

He steps toward me, slow and deliberate, until the blood-slick knife is inches from my chest. “Not yet. But you will be.” His hand shoots out, gripping my wrist hard enough to bruise. “You were born into this, Brigid. It’s in your blood. Sooner or later, you’ll stop pretending.”

I wrench away, breath caught in my throat, bile rising.

That’s the moment I see it. Not a boy I once thought I might love, not Bran’s best mate or the cocky guy who made me laugh, but the monster beneath the skin. Cold. Calculated. And utterly gone.

And it’s the same moment I start planning my escape.

It’s that look I see in Alessandro’s eyes right now. He’s not Conall. He’snot. But the tight grip on my arm and the hard edge in his eyes, it’s too close. Too damned close.

I’ve been blind for too long now. I didn’t want to accept the truth right in front of me.

The truth of who Alessandro is. The Gemini heir.

The way he checks every room before entering, never sits with his back to a window, watches exits instinctively. Even in his current condition, it’s muscle memory. Ingrained in his being likely since he was a child.

I want to scream. I want to run.

The former would draw too much attention, so instead, I whirl around and race for the door.

Alessandro’s shouts echo in the distance, but they’re drowned out by the mad thundering of my heart and the roar of panic rushing my veins. His voice follows me, reverberating with panic, maybe regret. But it’s too late. I’m already unraveling. And I don’t know if I’m running from him, or from the girl I used to be, the one who thought she could escape monsters by crossing an ocean.

Weaving through the mob of drunken socialites, I don’t stop running. Not after I race through the velvet curtains or feel the icy cool breeze on my skin.

I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.

CHAPTER 27

ROOM TO BREATHE

Rory

The rain tastes like metal, bitter and sharp, as I race down the street. Every footstep echoes like it belongs to someone chasing me. I’m not running from the club. I’m running from the look in Alessandro’s eyes. Cold. Final.

The icy droplets dribble down my cheeks, mixing with a stray tear as I stomp toward Midtown. Hugging my arms around my trembling body, I swipe away the tear with a bitter twist to my lips, lengthening my stride. I hate that I had to ask my old roommate for a place to crash for the night, but staying with Alessandro just isn’t an option right now.

I need some space.

Some room to breathe.