The Hellion (Wicked Wallflowers #1)(82)

A tear slipped down her cheek. “Why are ya doing this?” she begged, tears hoarsening her voice. “You’re supposed to hate me. Tell Black who Oi am and turn me out. End the arrangement between our families.”

“Oh, Cleopatra.” A heart-wrenching smile curved those hard lips that had explored hers so passionately just hours before. “You still don’t know.”

She shook her head. “Know what?”

“Oi love ya too damned much to do any of that.” His smile died, and with it went all the light in the room. “Don’t do it.”

Tension coursed through her and jerked her spine erect. “Oi don’t—”

“Oi’m being honest with you,” he said sharply, capturing her by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare pretend ya don’t know what Oi’m speaking about.” The way he slipped in and out of his Cockney and cultured tones spoke to the thin grasp he had on his composure. “Don’t marry him. Ya deserve more, Cleopatra.”

She wetted her lips. Did he believe himself to be that more? For he was. And yet in marrying him, she’d be forsaking her siblings. But if I do not take the gift of love for myself, I’m forsaking myself . . . and Adair. “What are you saying?” she asked softly, needing clarity of what he truly sought.

Adair dropped his brow to hers. “Marry me.”

There it was. Her heart tripped several beats. Who knew two words could cause this giddy lightness inside one’s soul? She briefly closed her eyes. Taking the gift he held out would mean putting her happiness above her siblings, when the whole of her life, Ophelia, Gertrude, and more recently, Stephen, had been put first. But if she did not do this, she would be forever empty and broken in ways she’d never recover. They would be all right. Each of them. They were strong. Strong enough to set their own course and defy Broderick, just as Cleopatra had. “I—”



Frantic footsteps pounded in the corridor, and then the door crashed open.

Adair instantly shoved her behind him, drawing his weapon.

Ryker Black stood framed in the entrance, his nostrils flared, his cheeks flushed, and fury in his eyes. A moment later he was joined by his brothers Calum and Niall. Their stony-faced expressions stirred unease in even her breast. “The deal,” Black said on a steely whisper, “is off.”

Adrenaline pumping through his veins at the unexpected intrusion from his brothers, Adair looked at the trio in the doorway.

“What in blazes are you talking about?” he snapped.

A leather folder in hand, Ryker strode forward. “It was her family,” he said flatly, jabbing the folio in Cleopatra’s direction.

Again demonstrating the braveness that had snagged his heart, Cleopatra moved out from behind him to glower at his brother. “Oi don’t know how many times—”

“I’ve had Bow Street Runners investigating your family and watching my club.”

A gasp hissed past Cleopatra’s lips.

Fury coursed through him. “Ya ’ad her family investigated and you didn’t think to tell me?” This omission was no different from the vital information they’d withheld from him about the future of the Hell and Sin . . . and their family.

“We thought given ’ow . . . close you’ve become to her that it moight be best to otherwise say nothing,” Niall answered with his usual bluntness.

Adair took a lunging step forward, his fingers twitching with the need to bury themselves in the face of Niall . . . and all of them.

Ever the peacemaker, Calum swiftly inserted himself between them. “Enough,” he boomed. “The decision about whether or not to include you in discussions on the Killorans matters less than the findings revealed.”

Four pairs of eyes went to Cleopatra.

Even with her slight stature, she stood proudly, a veritable soldier capable of defeating one of those great Spartan warriors. “Oi don’t know how many times Oi’ll have to defend my family against your charges.” She jammed her hands on her hips and glowered at Adair’s brothers. “We aren’t arsonists, and Oi’m not a liar.”

It didn’t escape Adair’s notice that she’d only included herself in that latter statement. It was a detail Ryker wouldn’t miss, either. His brother thinned his eyes into narrow slits.

“We found one of your men sneaking around the Hell and Sin.”

“Pfft,” Cleopatra scoffed. “Doesn’t mean anything. Could have been any reason he was there. And you didn’t even say who—”

“Brewster,” Niall spat.

Killoran’s head guard.

Cleopatra faltered. “Oi don’t believe it.”

“He somehow sneaked past our guards and was discovered inside, Miss Killoran,” Calum said gently.

“I still don’t believe you. There was another reason he was there.” Cleopatra paused, looking to Adair. “Brewster wouldn’t. He’s too honorable. Tell them my family wouldn’t do that.”

Except . . . Adair couldn’t do that. Because he didn’t know them. He looked away, but not before he saw the flash of hurt in her eyes.

“We found a ruby-studded dagger stuck in the wall of the recently completed rooms. You can read it all here, yourself, Miss Killoran,” Ryker snapped, hurling the folder at her.

Cleopatra instantly shot her hands out, but it sailed to the hardwood floor with a noisy thwack. The bespectacled spitfire immediately sank to her haunches and recovered the folder. Adair took a step closer to read those damning pages, but she snapped them close, glaring at him like he was the grime under the heel of her boot.