Page 132 of Morally Black Betrothal

Like any predator, he was ruled by the urge to kill.

Gripping Simone’s hand, I led her over to him.

“Well, well, well. This must be your Simone. We meet at last.” His dark green gaze skimmed over my girl, and I fought the urge to shield her with my body.

Instead, I rolled my eyes and affected nonchalance. “Jesus, Dad. You’ve met. She was there with you in the hospital.”

A nasty half smile hooked the left side of his mouth. “Of course. How could I forget such a pretty face?”

It was classic Niall Black—an insult hidden in a compliment, designed to let people know who was in charge.

“Well, he wasn’t in the best place to be receiving company,” Simone put in.

Everyone turned to her like they hadn’t even realized she could speak.

She blinked. “I just mean, I wouldn’t blame you for not remembering me, Mr. Black, given your condition. It’s nice to see you again. I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”

She couldn’t have known what she’d done. How with her brief acknowledgment of his weakness, she’d kindly but effectively put my father in his fucking place. How what most people would take that as consideration, but Niall Black would take as an insult.

Oh, you beautiful thing, you.

Once again, I fought the urge to get her the hell out of this den of lions.

Instead, I stepped aside, though still holding her hand, while she accepted a kiss from my father that lingered just a moment too long on her cheek. Dad might have been in his eighties, but he’d never hidden his appreciation for an attractive woman. There was no shortage of models looking for his approval, given that so many of his companies literally owned their careers, and Dad’s affairs were one of those things that everyone in the family, including his wife, overlooked.

This was his way of letting her and me know that he could have her if he wanted.

I wanted to pluck his fucking eyes out just for looking at her.

“Beautiful,” he said as he lifted her hand to his lips. “Just beautiful.”

Simone kept a careful smile plastered across her face, but I could read the discomfort behind the expression.

I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Dad,” I said a little too sharply, wedging my body between him and Simone. “Thanks for all this.”

“It’s too much,” Simone added. “You really didn’t have to do all of this just for me.”

“Goodness gracious, really?” Ronan wondered loudly to Liam. “Maybe we should’ve done a bar-bee-cue with mason jars and sunflowers. Throw us a real Pinterest party.”

Liam snorted, though he had the good sense not to reply in kind, but beside him, Shea kept going.

“Oh my God.” She snickered. “Could you imagineushosting a sweet country wedding? With gingham tablecloths and hay bales to cut costs? We could use her cows as bridesmaids.”

By that point, they were falling all over themselves laughing. Simone wouldn’t know the first rule of being a Black was not talking about the money that went into being a Black, but my siblings were ready to pounce on any sign of her incompatibility with our world. Really, any weakness at all.

Bullies, all of them, raised by the biggest bully of all.

Meanwhile, Simone had shrunk into a shadow of herself, with the same expression she had worn after being rejected by idiot shopgirls.

Well, fuck that.

“Don’t be assholes.” I shot all three a glare that silenced them. “Just because you’re spoiled fuckin’ brats doesn’t mean everyone else in the world acts that way. Have some goddamn respect.”

Ronan looked like he wanted to argue back, and Shea bit her lip, looking appropriately chastised. But neither of them said anything.

It was only when they had both looked away that I slid my arm around Simone’s shoulders and pulled her to my side. “Besides, baby, you’re worth the biggest party we could throw.” Those blue eyes sparkled back up at me with something that looked oddly like hope. Fuck, she was a good actor. “You’re worth a million of them.”