Page 33 of Royal Beast (Royals of the Underworld #1)

DARCY

“ W hat’s going on?” I ask, glancing back and forth between Guy and my dad. “Guy, how do you know my dad?”

The two of them share a look, one of those silent exchanges that immediately put me on edge. After a long pause, Guy nods slightly, and Max finally speaks up. “Darcy, Guy, and I are friends. We met through Gamblers Anonymous. I was trying to get help.”

I raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit taken aback.

Guy smiles at me, the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Max is an incredible man,” he says, his tone honeyed, dripping with sincerity.

“He’s made so much progress, especially after everything that happened with the house. It’s honestly impressive.”

The way Guy is practically glowing as he speaks about my dad makes me uncomfortable. Something feels off, but I can’t put my finger on it yet.

Max gives Guy a grateful nod, clearly warming to his praise, but I can’t shake the feeling that there's something too convenient about the whole situation. And then Guy looks at me again, his smile turning a little more knowing, a little too smooth.

“If you ever need anything, Max,” he says, his tone dropping a little too much into that flirtatious zone for my liking, “Please just let me know. I’m always here to help.

You’re like a father to me. You’ve been looking after me while I struggled with my addiction.

Darcy, I can’t even tell you how wonderful of a man your father is.

He’s been there for me when no one else was. ”

I feel a shiver of unease run through me, and my instincts tell me I need to get out of here. I force a smile, but it doesn’t feel genuine, and Guy seems to take that as an invitation to lean in just a little too much.

“Thanks, Guy,” I reply, my eyes narrowing slightly as I glance at my dad. He’s so caught up in his own conversation with Guy, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“You should let me take you to dinner as a thank you,” he adds, giving me a too-bright smile. “Then we can discuss ways to look after your father in his last days together. You should have someone to lean on in times like this, you poor girl.”

I almost shudder, skin prickling as he sizes me up. “I have someone who’s been there for me,” I tell him, trying to brush him off. But I’m not sure if he’s not picking up on the vibes or if he’s just not worried about it because he brushes right past it.

“Your poor, sweet daughter,” Guy says with a hint of mock sympathy, his eyes narrowing as he looks from me to Max. “She deserves a father figure in her life. Don’t you agree, Max?”

Max gives a small, absent nod, and I can feel my stomach tighten. I’m not sure exactly what Guy’s getting at, but I don’t like it. I sigh, trying to stay patient.

“She does,” I say, deciding to be blunt and skip the niceties. “My husband has been taking care of her while I’ve been here.”

Guy’s face falls for just a moment before his gaze flicks to my father as if to double-check for confirmation. Max just shrugs.

“You’re married?” he asks, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Yes,” I answer, my voice steady, not giving him any more ammunition. I don’t trust this man—not one single bit. He can’t get anything else out of me.

“Wow. When did this happen?” His head tilts as he continues to study me, stepping a little closer as if trying to read my every move.

“A few months ago,” I say, moving closer to my father’s side to brush his hair out of his face, focusing on the task to avoid meeting Guy’s gaze.

“And who’s the lucky guy?” His voice drops into something much more predatory, a grin spreading across his face as he steps even closer. “Have I met him?”

I keep my expression neutral, but inside, I’m starting to feel my guard go up even more.

“Kellan Brannagan,” I say, my tone cool and clipped. “You’ve probably heard of him. He’s part of the Brannagan Family.”

There. That should be enough. The Brannagans are prominent in town, and if Guy’s really got a gambling problem, he’s no doubt crossed paths with them before. I hope the name alone sends him running.

But instead, Guy’s expression shifts into something darker. He sneers, his lips curling in distaste as if the name alone left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Ah. The Brannagans,” he mutters, almost to himself, before raising his voice again, making sure I can hear. “Big, tough guys, right? I’ve heard plenty about them. Kellan Brannagan, the thug. A real family man, huh?”

I freeze, a cold rush flooding through me. Something in his tone makes me feel like I’ve stepped into a trap, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

“What exactly are you implying?” I ask, my voice tight, but he doesn’t stop.

“Oh, come on, Darcy,” Guy continues, stepping even closer, his breath hot on my skin. “You know what he is. A man like that? He’s only using you. He’ll say whatever he needs to make you think you’re special, but when he’s done with you, he’ll feed you to the wolves, just like the rest of ‘em.”

My breath catches in my throat, a wave of anger crashing through me. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I want to tell him to get lost, but I hold it in, forcing myself to stay composed.

Max shifts uncomfortably in his bed, clearly not picking up on the tension between Guy and me, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Either way, I feel my patience wearing thin.

“Leave it, Guy,” I say, my voice sharp now. “You don’t know Kellan, and you don’t know anything about what we have. You’re way out of line.”

Guy shrugs, an arrogant smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Maybe. But one thing’s for sure. When the Brannagans are done with you, they’re done with you. Just remember that.”

Before I can respond, he turns away, looking too pleased with himself as if he’s made his point.

My heart is pounding, and I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over. Guy’s words still hang in the air, taunting me, and my gut tells me there’s something much less friendly behind his little nice guy act.

“Leave it, Guy,” I repeat.”

But Guy doesn’t back off. Instead, he gives me that same smug look and shrugs. But when I glance at my father, I can tell he’s thinking about what Guy just said. He nods, voice low as he starts to speak.

“Guy’s not entirely wrong, Darcy,” Max says, his words making me freeze. “I’m just worried. I’ve seen what happens when men like Kellan get what they want. They don’t stop, not until they’ve taken everything they can.”

I blink, my stomach sinking as I try to process his words. “What the hell are you talking about?” I demand, my pulse racing. “Kellan is nothing like that. You don't know him at all, Dad.”

“I do know him,” Max insists, his tone surprisingly firm. “I’m just trying to look out for you, kid. You deserve better than someone who’s just going to throw you away when the time comes.”

I feel like the air is being sucked out of the room. Max is supposed to be on my side, so why does it feel like he’s throwing me under the bus?

I glance at Guy, who’s still watching the exchange with too much interest, as though he’s enjoying the moment. His grin widens when he sees the look on my face.

“Maybe it’s time to listen to your father, Darcy,” Guy says, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “He’s just trying to help.”

Max's eyes flick to mine, and I see genuine concern there and it only makes my anger burn brighter. “I’m worried about you. Kellan’s got a history. His family’s got a history. Have you seen the news? Darcy, they’re saying his father murdered his mother. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I shake my head, stepping back, feeling like I’m suffocating. This isn’t the conversation I expected today. I’m supposed to be here with my dad, focusing on him, not this.

“I’m fine, Max,” I snap, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

I’m done arguing. The rumors are completely ridiculous. Brigit Brannagan left of her own volition, according to Kellan. She moved overseas.

A little voice in my head has me questioning that. Is it true, though? Did Lachlan Sr. kill his wife?

I shake my head, refusing to give in to the voice. It’s not true, and I won’t let Max or Guy make me doubt Kellan. Not after everything he’s done for me. I’m going to put my faith in him because he’s never let me down when I needed him.

My father seems to grow tired after our discussion, his eyes drifting closed as exhaustion settles into his features. I take this as an opportunity to politely usher Guy out of the room, insisting that Max needs his rest.

I turn back to my father, who’s already drifting off to sleep, his face relaxed for the first time in hours. The tension in my shoulders loosens, but only slightly.

I reach for my phone and text Kellan, letting him know I’ll be home soon to grab some clothes. I need to stay at the hospital longer, at least for now. I can’t leave my dad alone in this condition.

I place my phone back in my bag and walk back to Max’s bedside, brushing his hair gently out of his face. “I’m sorry for fighting with you. Just rest now, okay?”

Max barely nods, already sinking into a deeper sleep, but then, his hand shoots out and grips my wrist, holding me still.

“Darcy…” His voice is weak, but there's a sharpness to it. I meet his gaze, and his eyes are clearer now, more intense. “I’m worried about you.”

A chill crawls down my spine.

“You shouldn’t be with him,” Max adds, his voice low, almost a whisper.

For a moment, the air between us feels heavy, like there's more to his words than just fatherly concern. There’s an almost unspoken threat in the way he says it, as if he knows something I don’t. As if he’s seen things I haven’t.

My heart skips a beat, and my chest tightens. I want to pull away from his grip, to say that I can’t let him control me anymore, but a part of me wonders if there’s truth to his warning. He’s my father and he only wants what’s best for me, right?

I force a smile, pushing the doubt down. “Dad, I’m fine. Kellan is a good man.”

Max’s fingers tighten around my wrist for a second, his grip more insistent now. “He’s not what he seems, Darcy. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

I swallow hard, my mind racing. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth, but I refuse to let it show.

I try to pull my wrist free, but Max holds me fast, his eyes never leaving mine. “Just be careful. Promise me.”

My breath catches in my throat, and for a fleeting second, I’m not sure if I’m talking to my father or if I’m hearing something else entirely. His warning hangs in the air, but I brush it off. Dad isn’t trying to upset me. He’s just worried.

I pull my wrist free gently, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack at any moment. “I’ll be fine, Dad. I promise.”