Page 47 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Maeve

I stayed where I was because moving would have made it real in a way I wasn’t ready to deal with. Gabrielle’s hand had been on Sean’s collar. She’d been clinging to him like she knew she didn’t need to rush what she was doing.

Sean stepped back first when he saw me. He said my name, but nothing in me stirred the way it should have.

Gabrielle turned her head slightly toward me, slow and deliberate, like I’d been part of her awareness the entire time and she’d only just decided to acknowledge me. I didn’t give her my attention for long.

I kept it on him. There was something between them that didn’t need explaining.

Of course, I was married to him. But was it really a marriage? I was just a debt payment to him.

That was all we were. Nothing more. My hands stayed loose at my sides.

Her lack of embarrassment or hesitation bothered me more than anything else. I took one more step into the room, slow enough that no one could say I was overreacting.

Sean shifted like he was about to speak again. My eyes went to Gabrielle instead. I didn’t want to look at her; I just did.

She was composed in a way that didn’t ask for permission from anyone in the room. Nothing about her looked like it was being held together under pressure. She looked chosen. Settled. Certain.

My attention caught on details I didn’t want to see. The way she stood without adjusting herself. The way she didn’t check Sean for a reaction. The way she didn’t look like someone trying to find her place here.

She was nothing like me. Maybe this was the kind of woman Sean really liked, and I was just a tool to punish my father. The thought hit before I could stop it.

“Are you okay?” Sean asked.

“I’m fine.” My voice didn’t shake. It almost sounded like the truth. “I just thought I’d join you for a glass of wine. But I see that you two are busy, so I’ll come back later.” Before Sean could say anything more, I turned and went back upstairs.

I didn’t let the image of the two of them stay in my head. It kept trying to surface, but I pushed it down and replaced it with something useful.

Names and patterns. The major reason I’d gone to the office before everything else began getting in the way. I sat on the edge of my bed and spread the pages of the old files out one by one. Paper rustled softly against the sheets, like it didn’t understand the weight I was putting on it.

***

My phone was still in my hand when the message came in. I hadn’t moved from the bed, and the papers were still spread beside me when I answered Nora’s call.

“Are you awake?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. I went deeper into the Earl lead.”

“What did you find?”

“It doesn’t stop in Marseille.”

“Explain.”

“I went down the rabbit hole with my guys and found Wonderland.”

I sat up slightly. “And what’s in Wonderland?”

“Two names keep appearing.”

“Names?”

“Yes. Stuart Justice.”