Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 54283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
I'm trying to carve out a little independence for myself. He's a threat to that in far too many ways. If I tell my brother that he kissed me, it'll fan the flames of war. And if I tell Niall that I liked it?
Well, I'll never see the light of day again. He and my father will have me surrounded by guards before I can even blink. No more freedom, no more school, no more tiny little life outside of their world.
Everything I've fought for will disappear, and I'll be trapped like a rat in a cage all over again. It's not a risk I'm willing to take when I only just slipped out of my cage. Whatever Naz wants…I just have to ensure he doesn't get it.
Doubt swirls through me for the thousandth time since he left me standing on the terrace. He's…alluring. Tempting in a way that's terrifying.
And I've never been good at resisting temptation.
It's precisely why I had to have this damn dress fitted yesterday when it fit fine six months ago.
Niall snorts. "As if he's capable of slinking off without causing problems."
My brows furrow. "What does that mean?"
"He got into a fight with Adrian Lombardi before he stormed out."
"He got into a fight?" I blink wide eyes, startled. "Why? When?"
"Five minutes ago." Niall nods toward the bar. I follow his gaze, watching in shock as a member of the waitstaff sweeps broken glass into a dustpan while another straightens overturned barstools. "No idea what it was about. 'Da is talking to Adrian, trying to sort it out, see if he can find anything useful."
"Useful?" I glance back at my brother, my brow furrowing.
He shoots me a smirk, his eyes glittering with intent. "Do you really think we're going to let him get away with what he did tonight, deirfiúr? No one messes with you, least of all Nazario fucking Leyva."
My stomach churns, anxiety pulsing through me. This is exactly what I don't want. Why is this world always tit for tat, you hurt me, so I hurt you? It's fucking exhausting.
"It was just a dance, Niall," I say quietly. "He didn't do anything. He was a perfect gentleman."
"Right." Niall snorts. "As if the prick even knows the definition."
"Niall!" I glower at him. "I'm serious. He didn't do anything. He was nice to me. That's it." I glance back toward the bar, away from my brother. "He said he liked my dress."
"Jesus Christ," Niall growls, spinning me around to face him with a hand on my arm. "You like him."
"What? No, of course not," I lie hastily, pasting an innocent look on my face—the same one he and my father never bother to look past. Just like they never look past the fake smiles and false reassurance that I'm perfectly fine, fine, fine. Managing them is second nature at this point. It's all I've done for years. And frankly, it's exhausting.
I'm tired of being the perfect little princess who does as she's told and has no dreams beyond placating her overprotective family. I'm tired of pretending I was ever her to begin with. I'm just…not. I want more.
Maybe I'm not doing as good a job managing my brother as I thought because his emerald eyes narrow on my face, his gaze assessing. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he says softly.
Ha. Not about this, I can't. If I tell him the truth, he'll lose his mind. Family is everything to Niall. And the fact that I liked the way it felt when one of the family's biggest enemies had his hands on me? Well, he'll never understand that.
"I know," I say instead of telling him any of that. "But there's nothing to talk about, Niall. Nazario was trying to get a rise out of you and Dad, and it clearly worked. But he was nice to me, and I appreciated it. It was a refreshing change from the way these little power struggles usually go." I shoot him a pointed glance. "Would you prefer another kidnap attempt?"
"Jesus," he growls, a storm roiling in his eyes. "Don't even joke about that, Brynna."
"I'm not," I say softly. "I'm just pointing out that, all things considered, asking me to dance was the least of what he could have done. We've been there before."
Niall mutters a curse, scrubbing a shaking hand down his face, and I feel like a jerk for even bringing it up. But I'm right, and he can't deny that. We've been down that road before. It's the only reason I bite my tongue when he and our father are so overbearingly overprotective. The target painted on my back hasn't grown any smaller over the years. I've just gotten better at avoiding it.
"Can we get out of here now?" I ask quietly. "I'd really, really like to get out of these shoes."