Page 179 of Morally Black Betrothal

Brendan

Once, I loved sitting in my office at the top of the Blackguard Holding. Another “aerie,” as Simone would call it, it was a refuge from where I could look over Boston, imagine flight across the city, and find a bit of respite from the incessant demands of my daily life.

Now, however, this place felt like a prison.

It had been almost twenty-four hours since Simone had fled the penthouse and Owen’s revelation had blown over my carefully constructed house of cards. Phone calls had gone straight to voicemail, texts weren’t even left on read, and I was losing my mind.

Ruth had been fielding calls all morning after I’d canceled two meetings and a conference call with Tokyo. The financial blogs were already starting to hum with rumors of my demise. I couldn’t have cared less.

Not until I figured out where she was.

The intercom buzzed on my desk. “Mr. Black? Your brother and Mr. Kelly are here.”

Before she had even finished speaking, the door opened, and Ronan and Liam walked in, their faces inscribed with the grim reality of the situation.

“You look like shit.” Ronan flopped into one of the leather chairs across from my desk and yanked at his collar. Despite being brought up in the family, there was something about a suit that had always chafed Ronan, like a tie felt more like a noose to him. “Matsumoto was thrilled with your no-show, by the way. Super fun to step in for you on an account I had never even looked at before. Why didn’t you ask Owen? He jerks off to opportunities like this.”

“Do you want a participation trophy?” I didn’t even bother turning away from the window. No one got the benefit of even the faintest courtesy today.

“No, but an explanation would be nice. You hibernate up here like a winter troll and Owen’s gone missing too. What the fuck is going on?”

I didn’t answer. No one but Owen and our head of security, Mac, knew what had happened last night with Simone. Even Liam just had bits and pieces. Right now, the safety of the woman I loved—yes,loved—was in the hands of someone else, and I wasn’t dealing with it well.

I caught Ronan and Liam sharing a covert glance as I turned around.

Liam took the other chair. “We need to talk.”

“If this is about the Japanese contracts, I already told you, today is not the day.”

“This is about you acting like a complete fucking moron,” Ronan interrupted. “You’ve been holed up here all morning, and Ruth says you got here at two this morning and started cancelling appointments for the rest of the week.”

I scowled. “I needed to get a head start on things.”

“What, like roasting hobbits before the sun rises? What the fuck is going on?”

Liam leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “Does this have to do with Simone? Or the Huntingtons?”

“Don’tsay her name.”

Ronan’s brows lifted. “Are you still fucking with Huntingtons? Those fuckers are half mob. I see them all the time in Vegas, and let me tell you, I wouldneversit down at a table with any of them unless I wanted to get knifed.” He shook his head. “Please tell me this isn’t all over a woman, Brendan.”

“She’s not just any woman. She’s…mine.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and then I was slumping into my desk chair, exhausted.

Christ, just admitting the fact out loud took something out of me. As if it forced me to acknowledge how much her absence hurt.

And I’d done it to her.

Ronan examined me for a long time. His mask of humor cut through the shrewd gaze that only came out every so often.

Then he seemed to make a decision.

“Yeah, we know,” he said quietly. “That’s why we’re here.”

I couldn’t even meet their gazes, instead fixated with underlining random words on a document in front of me.

I was fidgeting like a teenage girl.

I was a fucking mess.