Fran smiles at Paisley and does a quick nod. Paisley lets out a breath.

What’s that all about?

Islan looks from me to Fran with mild surprise, nods to greet us, then goes right back to a lively discussion with Cairstina.

They may not know why I have Fran here with me, but they’re staying discreet about everything.

For now.

I sit right in the middle of the table so Fran can sit beside Paisley and I can sit beside Nan. I need her next to me, and I don’t want anyone asking questions if I don’t let her sit with her mates.

“Morning,” Leith says, his gaze probing. He’ll have questions to ask.

“Morning.”

He looks to Fran, then back to me. Silently, he pours cream in his tea and grabs a scone from the plate in the center of the table.

“You eat yet?” he asks.

“Aye.”

There’s a quick pause in the conversation from the girls, but Islan picks it up again and they resume discussion.

“We need to talk,” Leith says.

“Right now?”

He glances down the table at Fran and lowers his voice. “Can you leave her here alone?”

I look at her then back to him and shake my head. He frowns, nodding. “When?”

I look across the table. “Just a minute. Clyde, a word.”

Clyde leans over, and I whisper in his ear. “Keep an eye on Fran. She isn’t allowed to leave, understood?”

“Aye,” he says, but he doesn’t ask any questions.

They’ll all know by the end of the day who she is and why I’m keeping her under my protection and surveillance. My brothers are no fools.

“I’ll be right back.”

Leith rises. Mum’s eyes are on us, but only for a second. We walk out of the kitchen and into the vacant hallway.

“Got a call from Wales this morning,” Leith says.

I nod.

“Seems we’ve had a leak, brother.”

I curse under my breath. “What kind of a leak?”

“They know of our connections in Paris. They asked questions, Tate. Lots of questions.” He sighs. “They mentioned Dad’s failing health.”

I curse. “How did they find out?”

Leith shrugs. “Not sure. Clan doctor’s here, vowed to secrecy. But rumor has it I’m Clan Captain now… some may have put two and two together.”

Or, someone read the fucking Clan Chronicles and assumed fiction is truth.

“You any closer to finding out more about the author?” Leith shoots a pointed look at Fran.

“I told you I’d do it, and I need you to trust me.”

He knows. I don’t know how I thought I’d keep the truth from him, how I’d buy time. I could lie, but we never lie to each other.

Ever.

But asking one of my brothers to trust me is an iron-clad rule, one that we honor.

“Of course, Tate,” Leith says warmly. “Always. I trust you. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Aye. And what do you want to do about Wales? What did they want?”

He grumbles. “Fucking everything.”

He doesn’t meet my eyes. What does he mean, everything?

It’s rare Leith’s evasive. He’s holding something back from me, I know it.

“What do they want?” I ask again, more demanding this time. He works his jaw, his body taut as he turns away from me.

I snap. I grab him by the shoulders and throw him against the wall, pinning him there in place before I remember who he is, before I remember my place.

“Tell me!”

He blinks, and I realize what I’m doing. Even as my brother, assault on the Clan Captain merits swift and merciless punishment.

At the moment, I don’t care. I don’t bloody care.

He meets my eyes, but there’s no anger. Only… resignation.

“Tell me, Leith,” I whisper, my grip on him loosening. I’ve already taken this too far, but if any of our Clan brothers see me threatening him, they’d have to attack.

He shakes his head from side to side, and I can tell something’s made him afraid. I haven’t seen fear in his eyes in so long, I almost didn't recognize it at first.

He spits the words out, tainted with hatred. “They want four million quid, or one of the girls in marriage.”

Ice pulses in my veins, and my jaw drops. “What?”

His voice is low but holds absolute authority as he whispers, “You’ll let me go now, brother.”

I release him and take an involuntary step back.

I don’t know what outrages me more—their demands, or the assumption my sisters are only worth four million.

He nods gravely. “Apparently, dear old Dad left a debt with them, didn’t he?” He shakes his head from side to side. “Jesus.”

Of course he did. Anger rises in me, hot and fast, acid burning in my throat. Until Leith took his role, I tolerated my father. He was ruthless and cruel, and if not for the tempered love of our mother, we’d have been raised to be just like him.

But as I’ve come to know who he really is, what he’s really done… I’ve never known hatred like I do for my father.

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