The Monster (Boston Belles 3)

And just like that, he hit the nail on the head.

I created this mess.

Troy was right.

Gerald was right, too.

I wanted it, needed it, manufactured it the day after I slept with Aisling to distract myself from the hard truths.

Aisling Fitzpatrick could never be mine.

She was too innocent, too precious, too blue-blooded for a man like me.

I couldn’t have her—and not just because her family paid me not to.

The extra money didn’t matter much to me. But also because I couldn’t give her all the things she needed—monogamy, a wedding, a family, children. And most importantly because I knew being with her would put her life at risk.

She is already putting her life at risk, doing what she is doing. She could end up in jail tomorrow, which means you played savior Jesus for nothing.

The truth hit me hard.

I wanted Aisling Fitzpatrick.

There were no more distractions.

No more excuses.

No more reasons to stay away.

Especially now, when both Gerald and I had each other by the throat.

It was time to make a bargain.

“You deprived me of my mother, Gerald, and I deprived you of your sanity for weeks. I think it is high time we cut a deal.” I sat back, nailing him to his seat with a stare.

“Don’t turn this around on me, Brennan. You were caught red-handed, meddling with my business and ruining my relationships with my loved ones. I know it seems like Jane and I have a lot of issues to work through, and truth be told, ours is less than a perfect marriage, but I still care about my wife. I love her in my own way, and I am definitely not impressed with the way you interfered in our marriage.”

“Regardless of that speech, the truth of the matter is, I have a lot of dirt on you, Gerry boy, and I fully plan to unleash it if I don’t get what I want. The letters are still real. The pregnancy test is still in existence. All those things you ran away from with Cat are now in my possession, and trust me, I make my birth mother look like a kitten in comparison.”

He groaned, rubbing his face tiredly.

“What is it that you want?”

“Your daughter,” I replied simply.

He laughed. This time it came out metallic and scratchy. His whole body rejected the idea. Like a failed organ transplant.

“You’ll never stand a chance with my daughter after what you did to us. This is the ultimate betrayal. She cares for her mother dearly, and in her eyes, you are to blame for the destruction of her family. In fact, I will be meeting her for breakfast in…” he flicked his wrist, checking his Rolex “…about two hours to tell her all about this little conversation. I cannot give you what is not up for offer.”

“Leave the persuasion to me,” I clipped. “Give her your blessing to be with me.”

“My blessing?” he spat out, his eyes widening. “You tried ruining my life!”

“You ruined mine first.” I waved an impatient hand his way, standing up and collecting my things.

“I’m paying you extra to stay away from Aisling!” He shot up to his feet, jabbing a finger in the air in my direction.

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about my bank account. I’ll survive without it.”

“It’s not your bank account I’m worried about. It’s my daughter.” He paused, a flicker of interest crossing his face. “How well off are you, anyway?”

“Triple digit millions well off. Your daughter will be provided for.”

“You will not have her!” he cried desperately. “Aisling is beautiful, smart, delicate, and well-bred. She—”

“Is also fucking single because the only man she wants is forbidden,” I cut him off, shouldering past him toward the bathroom, where I yanked his gun out of my pocket and wiped it clean of my fingerprints with a towel. “You are doing her a disservice by interfering with her love life. She knows what she wants.”

“And you?” He eyed me skeptically through the bathroom mirror. “Do you know what you want?”

Yes.

I wanted Aisling.

I met his gaze head-on in the mirror.

“You will tell her she has your blessing to date me. To be with me. To marry me,” I enunciated. “Understood?”

He looked close to hitting me. It surprised and delighted me to know Gerald cared so much about his daughter.

“She is my flesh and blood,” he hissed.

“Don’t remind me.” I pretended to gag. “Look, I don’t need your dirty money. I plan on courting her and touching her—a lot, in ways you don’t want to think about—and I would like to do that very openly. She deserves dinners, and restaurants, and vacations. Things I cannot give her in secret. You either roll with the plan or I run you over. Your pick.”

“I have conditions, too.”

I put his gun down on the sink’s edge, turning around and folding my arms over my chest. “Let’s hear them.”