A Dom is Forever (Masters and Mercenaries #3)(96)

She hadn’t had siblings while she was growing up, but she could imagine how hard it would be if one went bad. “That’s terrible.”

He sighed, his eyes on the ceiling. “We were hungry. I told myself that at the time. Now I wonder what he’d been planning to do with the money. It doesn’t matter because in the end, I failed, and I think I’ve been trying to figure out a way to forgive myself for years. He followed me into the Army. There wasn’t any other place for us to go. He rose through the ranks with me, and I lost him on a mission. I failed.”

She couldn’t help it. She reached out and put a hand on his chest. “You didn’t fail.”

“Rory died, Avery. I failed. I didn’t pull the trigger, but I allowed myself to get into a situation where he died, and I didn’t even have a body to bury. I miss him. I can’t even imagine how much worse it was for you. I want you to teach me.”

“Teach you what?”

“How to live like you. How to be as strong as you are.”

“I hardly think you can learn anything from me.” She started to pull her hand away, but he held it.

“Please, Avery. Just this much.”

She turned on her side. She wasn’t sure she could handle the new, honest Liam. He was even deadlier than the liar.

She fell asleep with her hand on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart.





The man who claimed to be Thomas Molina felt every muscle in his body freeze as Lee Donnelly spoke.

Rory died, Avery. I failed.

The room went cold.

Coincidence. It was just a coincidence. That was all it was. Like the story about the thieving altar boy was just a coincidence. Tension ran down his spine.

He set down his Scotch and walked across the office to where he kept his personal files. He certainly wasn’t stupid enough to keep them at UOF Headquarters. No. This was his private office in his privately owned town house. He’d made many modifications to the place since he’d purchased it with all of Thomas Molina’s lovely money. That f*cker hadn’t known how to live. Bloody wanker.

Molina hadn’t understood what it meant to be truly hungry. His legs might not have functioned, but he’d never gone hungry. He’d been a sad rich man playing at redemption. Molina had cried when he’d had a gun to his head. He’d bawled and said something about all the good he’d done in the world.

Good meant nothing. What the real Molina had never understood was that all those blighted bastards who ate the food he sent to them would have slashed his throat in a second because they lived in the real world where loyalty meant nothing. Friendship meant nothing.

Brotherhood meant nothing.

Only money mattered, and he’d proven that when he’d killed his only brother in a bomb blast and taken those f*cking bonds and made his deal with Nelson.

Teach you what? Avery’s voice came over the speaker.

How to live like you. How to be as strong as you are.

He nearly vomited. What an idiot. Avery was weak. Avery was sweet and sugary and all the things that would make her so much fun to break and watch when she finally understood the real world.

Rory O’Donnell’s world.

Rory cursed under his breath as he looked at the photos Malcolm had taken. Why wouldn’t the bastard look up? Lee Donnelly was a master at making sure no one caught his face.

Lee Donnelly.

The key when you’re picking an undercover name, brother, is to find one you won’t have trouble answering to. Stick close to the truth. That’s the best way.

His brother had always tried to take the lead. He’d always tried to teach him. The truth washed over the man who had been formerly known as Rory O’Donnell.

His brother was alive and in bed with his secretary. His dead brother had managed to show up right before Rory settled the biggest score of his lifetime. Rage shuddered through him. He couldn’t tell anyone. Malcolm was already set to kill Donnelly. If Rory was right, Malcolm should be told.

He couldn’t do it. It would make him look weak. He’d told his enforcer the story of Liam’s death a number of times. He couldn’t look weak now. And he couldn’t let Malcolm know that Nelson had potentially lied. A man like Malcolm went with the strongest leader he could find. He didn’t need to lose Malcolm to Nelson. Hopefully Malcolm would kill the Donnelly chap and no one would know the truth.

Rory looked out over the street. When they’d been children, they had lived in the slums of Dublin, and every night his brother would promise him that one day they would have nice houses and plenty of food.

He’d come so far from that rat hole, but it looked like his past was back to try to reel him in.

He’d killed dear Liam once. If Malcolm failed, he would have to do it again.





Chapter Seventeen


Avery’s hands shook a little as she put the coffee down. Even the slight clatter made her want to jump, and she’d made the sound herself. The break room at the UOF building was quiet and the sound echoed. She was jumping at everything today. She wasn’t cut out for all the spy stuff. This was her one and only foray into espionage.

She’d woken up with a spy in her bed, cuddled close even though she’d tried to turn away from him.

What the hell was she going to do about Liam? And what was wrong with her? She was in the middle of something serious and all she could think about was a man who had lied to her. A man who had used her. A man who was trying to do something right. She didn’t have a problem with his investigation, but did he really have to sleep with her?