Beautifully Cruel (Beautifully Cruel #1)(89)

His voice drops. “Considering I’m in love.”

I drag in a hitching breath. My eyes fill with water. My throat constricts, and my voice comes out small and strangled. “So what happens now? You supposedly rot inside a prison cell forever but in reality you have to live the rest of your life in hiding?”

Liam leans down and gives me a soft, sweet kiss on the lips. “Now it’s Killian’s turn to be the mafia pope.”

When my mouth drops open in shock, Liam chuckles.

“He’ll be ‘released’ from custody on a technicality and will take over where I left off. He can’t wait. If you think I’m bossy, it’s only because you don’t know him well enough yet.”

When I continue to stare at him with my mouth open, he chuckles again.

“The whole switching thing was his idea, actually. My original plan was to get knocked off in prison—allegedly, of course, just for the news—and retire from the revenge business so we could safely be together. But apparently Killian has always been keen on the idea of fronting an international criminal empire. I had no idea he found my work so glamorous, but here we are.”

I spend a while blinking rapidly and trying to rearrange my brain cells.

“So…your brother will still be a freelance spy…but while taking over your job…which is pretending to be a mafia kingpin…while actually working for a foreign government…or two.”

“Aye.”

“And you’ll retire from the revenge business.”

“Aye.”

“And we’ll live happily-ever-after.”

“Aye.”

“And I’ll have Killian to thank for that.”

He’s about to agree with me, but catches himself. “What? No! This was my idea! I’m the one who wanted out!”

I pretend to be doubtful, pursing my lips and staring back at him with a lifted brow.

He’s outraged. “Did you or did you not hear me say that being killed by an enemy would be inconvenient because I’m in love?”

I can’t keep up the ruse. My face breaks into a smile. I wind my arms around Liam’s broad shoulders and whisper, “Yes, I heard you. I just wanted to hear it again.”

Understanding dawns over his face. “Why, you little…”

He doesn’t bother finishing the sentence. He simply leans down and kisses me.

It’s several more hours before we come up for air again.





Epilogue





Tru





Four weeks later



“You’re gonna do great.”

“I’m not. I’m totally going to fail this effing test. Yesterday was a nightmare. Today will be worse. I’m going to fail.”

“You won’t.”

“I will.”

“You will if you keep thinking like that. Have some self-confidence. You’ve studied your arse off. You’re ready.”

“Remind me again why I’m bothering with this ridiculous two-day-long, twelve-hour test when my law degree has already been accredited by the University of Argentina, I’ve registered with the Colegio de Abogados, and I don’t need anything else to practice law in Buenos Aires? Including a passing grade on the Massachusetts bar exam?”

Over the phone line, Liam’s tone is firm. “Because it’s a goal you’ve worked toward for years, you don’t want to give up on that goal simply because you’re living in another country now, and—most importantly—you promised your mother you would.”

“Oh. That.”

“Aye, that. I don’t want to start off my relationship with her on the wrong foot.”

Standing outside the meeting room door at the Hynes Convention Center in Boston where I’m scheduled to begin day two of the bar exam—like, right now—I lean against the wall and smile, picturing Liam meeting my parents. We’re going to Texas in a few months for a visit.

For Thanksgiving, of all things.

It’s a situation I once thought impossible, but I’m living in alternate reality land now. All kinds of impossible things have come to pass.

“Oh, crap, they’re closing the doors. I gotta go in.”

“Good luck. Call me as soon as it’s over.”

“You know I will, bossy boss man.”

Liam growls, “You better, or I’ll take you over my knee when you get home.”

“Promises, promises. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I make a kissing noise and hang up before he can make any more sexy threats. The last thing I need right now is to be distracted by the thought of him spanking my—

Too late.

I go inside, get a locking security case for my cell phone from the lady standing at the door, then take my assigned seat, forcing the thought of my gorgeous wolf and all the things he does to my body out of my mind.

Along with my now unusable phone, I’ve got a clear plastic storage bag holding a bottle of water, a sandwich for lunch, signed examinee agreement, and several number two pencils that I’ll use to take today’s part of the exam, which consists of a billion or so multiple-choice questions covering contracts, torts, criminal law, constitutional law, evidence, and real property.