Page 15 of Stolen Temptation (Irish Kings #3)

Kiara

Esmeralda helps me into a fresh pair of clothes, tsking over the purple and blue bruises developing on my feet from where I kicked Rory and his friends like my life depended on it. They’re definitely hurting now. What I wouldn’t do for some pain meds…

She changes the bandage on my forehead and patches up a scrape on my arm that I hadn’t noticed, then sends me out to my impending doom.

Rory waits for me in the hallway, leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets and a faint smile like nothing is amiss.

What did he call me again? An endangered species?

My fingers curl into fists. I relax my hands and do my best to hide the anger burning inside me. If I’m going to lure him into believing I trust him, I need to behave as if my thoughts don’t center around getting as far away from him as I possibly can.

“After you.” He waves an open palm toward the sliding double doors at the end of the wide corridor.

I walk ahead because, of course, he’s not stupid enough to let me walk behind him. He knows I’d slip away at the first opportunity.

My new self-appointed task is to convince him otherwise.

The weight of his eyes on my back tickles the area between my shoulder blades as I hurry down the hall and through the doors.

I expect us to emerge onto a rooftop, what with the skylights in all the patient rooms of this place, but as soon as I step outside, I realize there is no rooftop to speak of.

The Kings’ medical unit is completely underground.

If I had managed to escape through that skylight, I would have ended up on ground level.

“This way.” Rory’s fingertips connect with the small of my back in an attempt to guide me. I flinch away from his touch, my entire body prickling with uncomfortable awareness.

We’re on a cobblestone path that winds around to our left and up an incline to what I suspect are gardens.

I fold my arms when I reach the top of the cobblestone and find myself standing at an entrance to a tall hedge maze.

“So, the most brutal killers on the Eastern Seaboard keep a mini-hospital beneath their flower beds…”

“You sound intrigued.” Rory watches me from the mouth of the labyrinth.

His gaze skims my face as his fingers trace my cheek, triggering another wave of that prickling discomfort.

I stiffen my spine. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Cooperation.” He offers another one of those infuriating smirks. “I approve.”

As we head into the maze, I walk close so that I don’t get lost. It’s tough since the hedges must be at least ten feet tall.

In silence, Rory leads us through the maze until the hedges on either side of us break away and we’re standing in a central area, where an ornate fountain sings in the midmorning sun. The beauty of it all stills me, especially once I spy the majestic architecture.

“What is that ?” I breathe, overwhelmed by the sight of a massive mansion sprouting from a well-manicured lawn just beyond the border of the garden. Three levels of brick, mortar, and lush accents around the tall windowpanes and enormous doors rise from the ground like something out of a storybook.

“The house,” Rory says, as though it should be perfectly obvious.

Some house. Even I can’t stop my mouth from hanging open.

I have perfect vision, so I know my eyes aren’t lying, but how could a place this gorgeous and well-kept be run by a bunch of violent thugs? I’m nothing short of flabbergasted by how fairy-tale pretty the Gallagher estate is.

Following Rory toward that sprawling mansion doesn’t make anything feel more real . In fact, the closer we get, the more sure I am that this must all be a bizarre dream.

We climb a few short steps to the front doors, and then we’re inside.

Which is even more palatial and magnificent than the outside.

Red carpets line sweeping, cavernous hallways. Fine art decorates the walls. There’s even an indoor fountain gurgling a soothing tune.

By the mouth-watering aromas drifting toward us, I’m guessing they’ve got a gourmet chef under lock and key too.

All I can think about is how much I wasn’t told about the Irish Kings.

No one ever mentioned their wealth. I would have guessed their headquarters were located in some abandoned factory compound somewhere, or an old, dilapidated Gothic estate deep in the woods.

My whole life, I’ve been led to believe that my family’s worst adversaries were nothing short of abhorrent, cruel mercenaries who hunted and tortured people for fun. That’s the way they killed Matteo, the last head of the De Luca mafia. They killed my father Enzo in much the same way.

But, despite those grim truths, so far, they’ve been…hospitable? Kind of?

Is that even possible?

That nurse, Esmeralda, was very nice to me. She didn’t think I’d be harmed here. I managed to assault the heir to the entire Kings mafia within the first thirty minutes of being conscious, but aside from an ugly glare and threat, he didn’t do me any harm.

And according to Rory, the kissing kidnapper, he doesn’t intend to.

Honestly, if I count the hot kiss, this may be the nicest abduction package a woman’s ever been given. Kissed, drugged, and dragged to a mansion. The medical attention was a nice touch too.

I can’t help my wandering eyes as I follow Rory through the enormous building. We walk toward a grand staircase, where giant steps lead up to the second and third floors of this junior castle.

These are my soon-to-be living quarters?

Suspicion pings in my head. I know there’s a catch. Maybe they’re messing with me, the way Leo used to.

The Kings must be the rare people who keep their torture chamber or kidnap shack on an upper level. There’s no way Rory’s leading me anywhere nice.

But at the same time, it’s difficult to believe that there’s any place in this giant manor that doesn’t qualify as nice.

Focus, Kiara. Breathe.

I’ve heard plenty of stories about the Kings. I know from secondhand experience how ruthless and terrifying they are as a crime syndicate. I can’t afford to be distracted by the unexpected dazzle of their lair.

As I drink in my surroundings, I begin to analyze the structure and layout of the land. Minute details are my specialty, and if I’m going to spy an escape route from this colossal place, I need to work fast.

I have no idea when my next opportunity might present itself, but when that moment comes, I’ll be ready .

One thing I’ve already noticed as strange…

There aren’t many people milling around the mansion.

How many people actually live here?

And more importantly, what’s the security like?

Deliberately slowing my steps to give my eyes more time to do their thing, I turn in a small circle as I walk, taking in more of the space.

My face tickles a little, which means Rory’s staring at it. Probably wondering why the hell I’m moving like molasses.

A sound drifts into my ears that shocks me into stillness.

I hear women. Laughing.

I’ve lived all my life on the De Luca estate, and I’ve never heard women laugh together outside the safety of my mom’s rooms. Daring to express that sort of joy or humor in the public spaces risked drawing Enzo’s or Matteo’s or Leo’s attention as to why…

and you never wanted to draw their attention if you could help it.

But here, at the Gallagher estate, apparently women laugh freely.

I peer around a corner into a bright little study with books stacked high across the walls and gape.

A pair of identical blond twins sit across from each other in low armchairs, playing some kind of board game.

Diamond-studded bands sparkle on their ring fingers.

Almost immediately, they glance up from the table and catch me staring.

They’re lovely, with deep, startling blue eyes and generous mouths.

One wears a fitted blue pencil skirt, a flouncy, white silk blouse with silver buttons, and a cropped, white- and-blue fitted blazer.

The entire ensemble is chic and clearly expensive.

The other twin sports a pair of light-wash jeans and a plain, long-sleeved silk tee. The chic twin’s hair falls in breezy waves down her back. The casual twin’s hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail.

Their curious gazes take me by complete surprise. Who are they?

What are they doing here? Do they live here, or are they visiting?

They sure don’t seem like prisoners. At least, not in the same way as my mom and me. None of this computes. I can’t square the situation away in my mind.

“Kiara.” Rory gives my upper arm a light squeeze, but I can’t tear my eyes off the twins, who continue to return my attention. “Come on. We’re disturbing them.”

He guides me toward the staircase. I expect him to walk faster and drag me along. Instead, Rory adapts his stride to match my pace.

Almost like he’s being considerate.

The expression on his face gives away nothing.

Is this his subtle way of letting me get more familiar with the place I’ll be calling home for the foreseeable future?

Surely, he isn’t worried about my comfort…is he?

Don’t start having nice thoughts about this man , I snap at myself in the quiet chaos of my own mind. Remember that he kidnapped you. No matter what he does or says, he’s a kissing, drugging, abducting bastard. Not to be trusted.

Yes, this abduction, for better or for worse, prevented me from being sold to the highest bidder like Leo intended, but that was incidental. Circumstantial.

It doesn’t absolve Rory of his actions or make him a good guy. For all I know, he’s even more terrible than Leo.

Leo. Ugh.

A shudder rips down my spine.

I can’t even fathom how angry he must be.

His prize auction piece, stolen from under his nose.

Nope, no, nuh-uh. Traveling down that mental road leads to panic attacks and despair.

Up the stairs, Rory and I climb to the second-floor landing, and then he guides me down a curved corridor featuring large windows. We stop outside the first door that appears.

A man large enough to double as a professional wrestler is stationed out front. Rory slows his steps and nods to the guard, who opens the door.

Oh. So this is it.