Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Brendan

M y girl is confused and overwhelmed by her feelings, though she didn't tell me about what happened with Jordan. I promised her I wouldn't ask, and I always keep my promises now to her. If I'm not absolutely sure I can make something happen, I won't say it.

It's been two days since Jordan moved in, and it's been busy. Seán had a laptop delivered to the house, along with instructions on what he wanted him to do. Jordan retreated to his room to work, making himself scarce while Líadan spent her days out of the house.

I continue my work for Seán, attend meetings as his enforcer, and have ready-to-eat meals in the fridge. At least the bastard won't starve. Whatever happened between the two of them has Lía seeking escape from her own sanctuary, and that frankly pisses me the fuck off.

Driving to a bar now to have a conversation with one of Seán's colleagues, who wants to buy out his sex club for a night, I call Lía to see what she's doing. It's almost four in the afternoon, and I haven't heard from her all day.

Over the past two years, Seán began to realize the family respected me. The position of enforcer means they are terrified of fucking up, but more importantly, they will not lie to me, because it's been proven to be bad for their health.

Rumors have begun to spread that I may have a special connection to the Banshee since we work together at times, which has simply increased my street cred.

No one knows Lía and I live together, not even Bruin, Cormac, or Seán's merry band of hackers. He buried the paperwork under so many different layers of security, it looks as if the home is being rented by some random person.

It supports her father's agenda to keep that secret, because it would be too easy to connect the dots otherwise. His family and enemies aren't stupid, just a bit superstitious.

The phone rings three times before she picks up, making my blood pressure spike. If I don't get to speak to her before I walk into this meeting, I'm very likely to make this man shit his pants.

I don't even realize how hard I'm gritting my teeth until she picks up the phone.

" I'm fine, Brendan," she answers, making my hands clench around the steering wheel.

"It's nice to hear your voice, milseán ," I growl. "I know you're spiraling a touch, but it would be wonderful to get a text, a call, maybe a photo of your boobs. I need more communication than whatever this is."

A heavy sigh greets me. Straining to figure out where she is, I hear wind blowing, which means she's outside. It's not snowing today, and the weather has improved in a rare spurt of nice weather. It's sunny today, the sky is blue, so I imagine Lía may be in the park despite the thirty degree weather.

She refuses to miss a nice day, even if she wasn't having a hard time acclimating to our new house guest. Chicago weather is fucking weird.

"I'm reading and having a snack," she says. "Daddy had me report on how Jordan is doing. Since I don't have a clue, I simply said he's been working in his bedroom. I asked him about why he needed Jordan, since he seemed to be in a good mood."

"When was this?" I ask her. He didn't mention he'd spoken to her at all.

"When I took myself out for breakfast this morning," Lía explains. "Busy diners are the only time he'll talk business to me over the phone, since it's harder for people to overhear."

"This is true," I grumble. There are times where Seán's paranoia comes in handy, and this is one of them. "What did he say?"

"Daddy wants to know who people think his heir should be," Lía says easily.

"Baby, wait, where are you exactly?" I ask. She's not lowering her voice at all and I'm not sure why. Even if there was no one near her at the park across the street, she wouldn't talk to me like this.

"I took a little trip to Jackson Park," she says. "I'm overlooking the water, it's peaceful, and I don't have to people. It's my definition of the perfect day. I took a cab so I wouldn't have to deal with traffic."

A pang of guilt hits me because I've been working so much. Lía spends a lot of time alone when she's not doing things for her father, yet he won't allow her to take any college classes, even if they were online. She's bored, and now she can't even hang out at home because Jordan is staying with us and they've had some sort of falling out.

"Well that explains things, then," I murmur, rubbing the back of my neck as I take a deep breath. I've been worrying for nothing, but that's just how I am with Lía. I'm a possessive man, which is what makes Jordan such an enigma. "Alright, tell me everything your dad told you. He didn't mention he even spoke to you today."

"The subject of who Daddy's heir will be is a touchy subject for most in the family," she reminds me. "Everyone thinks it should be you."

"Nope, I don't want it," I state. "You're his heir, and no one can convince me otherwise."

"I know that," she says, and I can hear the little smile in her voice. Even though she doesn't laugh or smile, it'll still show in her tone at times. I want to torture and kill Seán for what he did to her, but can only hope I'll get the chance.

"Daddy says his newest employee is in charge of finding out if anyone else thinks like that so he can ally with them. Apparently, he wants to have a large party with the family soon, so he is getting ready for any backlash that may happen. There is always some sort of human entertainment for them, as you know."

My nose wrinkles because I know very well what she means. Before I moved in with her, Seán enjoyed forcing me to participate. Lía doesn't see the things that are done under duress as cheating on her, and I thank God for it, because Cormac held a gun to my head where no one could see, so I'd do what Seán wanted.

One day very soon, they will regret their actions when the new queen steps into her rightful place.

"I do," I grunt. "Tell me what I don't know, baby."

"The surveillance that Daddy's new ‘friend' is doing is a deep dive into everyone's lives. Skyler can't do it because he's related to half the family, and while he's loyal, asking him to spy on his own parents isn't likely to go over well," she says. "Instead, this will ensure everything is done by a neutral party who will dig as far as possible without getting caught. He knows there will be traps in the systems he'll need to be careful of now."

"I doubt Jordan is someone who makes the same mistake twice," I rumble. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Yeah, I think Layla may be involved somehow in this unveiling party," Lía says, surprising me. "I don't know how, but Daddy is kind of obsessed with her."

"She's the type of woman your father enjoys breaking, Lía," I say. "Strong-willed, successful, and intelligent."

"I looked through all the documents your private investigator sent you," she says. "You forgot to mention how beautiful she is."

"No one else compares to you, and you have eyes," I say. "I don't need to mention it. I'm pulling up now, please don't stay out too late. You know that isn't a great area after dark."

"I have my knives, but there's no reason to borrow trouble," she agrees. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, beautiful. Please don't disappear on me again," I say, hanging up.

Taking a deep breath, I wonder about Seán's plans. Is he actually planning on handing over his kingdom to an almost twenty-three-year-old woman, or is he appeasing the family?

Even if that's his angle, they aren't going to be happy with a woman on the throne. I have a lot of thinking to do about this. It's hard to figure out the workings of a man who is both crazy and paranoid, though. They always do the opposite of what you think they will.

Jordan

When the front door opens to the townhouse, I stiffen. I've been alone all day here, working on all kinds of shit for Seán. The money laundering is easy, simply moving money digitally, to ensure its squeaky clean by the end of its journey before moving it to an overseas account. I haven't dared to check anything else on this computer, because the first thing I did was inspect the inner hardware. It's riddled with spyware, so I'm sticking to the work that's being demanded of me.

Standing from the desk in the corner of the room, I glance at the time. It's almost seven at night, and this is the first time the door has opened since they both left. Yes, I'm clocking who leaves and enters, because as nice as the townhouse is, it's still a prison.

And I've managed to upset my warden.

Blowing out a breath, I walk slowly to the door, waiting to see who it is. There are light footsteps and mutters that tell me it's Líadan.

What does she do all day? Is she out being her father's minion?

The thought is uncharitable, but I know nothing about her life, except that she wears a mask to kill people her father tells her to. I don't know what to do with that information. Did her father purposely turn her into this monster?

The inner monologue follows me as I crack open the door. As far as wardens go, Brendan and Líadan haven't been too bad. They had clothes delivered to my door and left prepared food in the fridge. Honestly, my life could be a lot worse, I just can't stop the clawing anxiety as I worry about Layla.

I don't want her coming to Chicago, because it'll put her in Seán's path. These people deal in misery and suffering, that much I know from spying on them all. Sex trafficking, sex clubs, and places where they train the men and women they kidnap to be perfect little slaves.

Yeah, this is the last place I want her to come.

The problem is that I have no control over if Layla comes here. Seán is moving us around like little puppets for his pleasure and plans.

Líadan walks down the hallway with her hair loose in curls down her back. Her knee-high combat boots are still on her feet, her long-sleeved dress is paired with tights, and she's thrown off the coat that I suspect her to have inevitably worn.

Just because the sun was shining, doesn't mean it's not still cold. In fact, the wind is beginning to wail outside, which means she just barely missed the incoming weather.

Fuck, watch it snow tomorrow. I hate Chicago in February, it can't seem to make up its mind, much like Seán O'Brien.

"Hey," I say, watching as her feet stutter to a stop. She was in her own world, completely ignoring me. "Can we talk for a second?"

Her forest-green eyes fly up to meet my gaze, and she blinks at me.

"No," she says, opening the door to her bedroom and shutting it behind her.

"Fuck," I mutter. I suppose I walked into that by giving her a damn choice. I'm used to maneuvering people into choosing my side, yet Líadan is immovable.

Yet, I saw the pang of hurt in her eyes after we had the most incredible orgasms together. I don't know what happened or why. There was a moment where I cursed myself out because I shouldn't be doing this with a mafia boss's daughter.

I've never been this tied up over someone. Not to mention, Brendan is a broody bastard and grunts whenever he sees me.

Fuck it.

Moving forward, I put my hand on the knob and knock.

"Come on, Princess. You can't keep ignoring me," I call out, but I can't hear anything on the other side of the door.

Growling under my breath, I twist the door knob, surprised when it opens. Shoving it open, I open my mouth to say something, but the room is empty. Distantly, I can hear water running, and her clothes are tossed haphazardly in the hamper.

At least it made it in.

"Why do all of our conversations happen while the other is in the shower?" I grumble, practically stomping across the room.

This is clearly the main bedroom in the house, because it's bigger than the guest room I'm staying in. I can see evidence that this is Brendan's room as well, since there are masculine touches everywhere. The bathroom door is cracked open, making it easy for me to push it open.

"We really need to have a conversation, Princess," I mutter as I step inside.

Líadan startles, gorgeous eyes wide as she gazes at me. "What did you say?" she asks.

"I said you're being a goddamn brat. Be a damn adult and talk to me," I roar. My anxiety may be heightening my emotions. Just a little.

Líadan just nods as she continues to wash her hair, brow raised. "I shouldn't need to talk to you, when you're simply Daddy's employee, even if it is against your will. I have no factor in anything."

"Want to tell me what I did? I feel as if this is a drastic shift. There's this animosity coming from you, even though you're really damn calm. Drop the mask, Princess. I don't need you to wear one for me," I tell her.

"So why should I drop mine if you're clearly putting one on seconds after we came together the other day?" she asks. Sighing, she rinses her hair. "I shouldn't be getting involved with you in any way regardless. I really don't want to get attached."

Turning her back on me, she continues to wash herself. Her shower walls are all clear glass, so I get an incredible view of her backside. Too bad I need to see those gorgeous forest-green orbs. Moving until I can grab the door of the shower, I open it and step inside.

It's harder to ignore me if I'm in her space. I don't want her to think this is about anything other than settling this misunderstanding, which means I'm going to be getting drenched while fully clothed.

"What the fuck, Jordan? Personal space, much?" she complains, pushing her back against the tile wall. It's a beautiful teal and gray color, making me wonder how much she renovated and how much came with the house.

"I've given you days of personal space, Little One," I grunt. "I'm sick to death of it. The only thing you could have seen the other day was my conscience asking me if it was a good idea to get involved with you. To which I told it to fuck off."

"Oh," she says. "Well, you called me Líadan. You never call me by my name."

Ah, I see. I didn't realize I did it.

"You're right," I nod. "It was unintentional. You're my princess or little one, and never Líadan. Is that why you ran?"

"I was shaky, and it felt like you were pulling away. You're right, this is such a bad idea, because Daddy?—"

"Your father pulls the strings he can see," I remind her. "If he can't see it, he can't manage it. It's why I keep my ear to the ground in my business, notifications to tell me if any of my musicians are being spoken about in social media. This way, I can get ahead of whatever scandal is about to come our way. In a way, your father is doing the same for your family and his enemies. He's finding out what people are doing, so he can blackmail them into accepting you as his heir."

"Are those his plans?" she whispers. "I knew some of it because he told me today, I just didn't think he'd stoop to blackmail. Well, I didn't think he'd be smart enough to."

The amendment makes me bark out a laugh. "As crazy as your dad acts to the outside world, I think there's a lot of intelligence behind his eyes," I say.

"Yes, that's true. He just typically rules with a lot more violence," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

My eyes hood as I take in her wet and naked form, moving to get out of the spray.

"Just because we're taking a meeting in the shower, doesn't mean you can't finish, Princess," I murmur.

The words make her breath hitch, and I imagine what her pretty pussy would taste like. The hair on her cunt is well groomed, without any hair left. It happens to allow her clit piercing to peek out at me as she moves, making my cock get even harder than it is now.

I love to argue, but I think arguing with her is one of my favorite things at the moment. Líadan sighs as she goes back to her shower, and I enjoy watching her.

"Daddy relies on terror and gaslighting to get his way," she says finally. "The family is unruly, loves to party, make money, and break the rules. Years ago, he opened his club in Chicago to allow them to have auctions, fuck their human pets, and enjoy themselves. He thought it would temper some of their need to rebel."

"Mmhmm," I say, knowing she's not done yet.

"It's also one of the reasons the Banshee was born," she continues. "He… did some things to make me the way I am now. I wear a mask because it's easier for people to fear the things they can't see. The men in the warehouses see a woman with a devil's face walk in, make a kill in the most gruesome way possible and then leave. They fuel the rumors. Daddy hires family members whenever he can for the business."

"What did he do?" I rasp.

Líadan takes a deep breath, giving a small shrug as she picks up her body wash.

"He broke my body and my mind when I was seventeen," she murmurs. "That's all I want to say on it right now, but I can't process a lot of emotions the way normal people do, because my mind did a lot to protect me. So I'm stunted."

"I refuse to believe you're stunted," I deny. "You may process things differently, but you looked like you were feeling a lot the other day."

"That's the problem!" she yells dramatically. She's cute as fuck, and she doesn't even know it. "I get overwhelmed, run, and then refuse to talk about it. I can't laugh or cry. I'm broken."

"Princess, we're all broken in some way," I say. "I like pain with my pleasure, I thrive in control and fixing things, and I hate lazy ass people. I'm sure there are many diagnoses for us. I don't like to be labeled, though."

"You're too much," she mumbles, her lips twitching. Líadan may not smile, but I can tell that she feels amusement.

"Look, I don't want to overstep or fuck up with you again. I also don't want to push you to relive trauma, but know it will come. I have this need to know everything about you. I haven't felt anything like this before. So how do I make sure I won't trigger you?" I ask.

Líadan chews her lip as she thinks, beginning to shave her legs. She flashes her beautiful pussy at me, making me groan as I palm my cock. She pretends not to notice as she hikes her leg up on a built in ledge, focused on her razor.

God, she's going to drive me mad.

"I'm no one's good girl," she says, her voice changing as if she's distancing herself emotionally from the words. "I don't like it when people walk up behind me, I dislike small talk. I am always armed, if I don't see you or know you're there, I'll probably stab first and ask questions later."

"Does that include your home?" I ask. "If Brendan comes up to you, how do you respond?"

"I can usually smell the gun oil and sage before he pulls me into his arms," she explains. "He's Daddy's enforcer, which doesn't always mean just torture and interrogation. Brendan also takes meetings for him more and more because he scares people. He's always armed since you never know what could happen, which sometimes means a gun fight or two."

"Hmm. Why aren't you his enforcer?" I ask. "It seems as if you're a secret."

Switching legs, she nods. "That's exactly what I am," she says. "I don't attend parties, social functions, nothing. Most of the family has almost forgotten he has a daughter. Mama was killed when I was young, and I retreated into books and drawing. He hid me from the world and still is. No one can know I'm the Banshee."

"How long does your dad plan to keep this up?" I ask. The work I'm doing has a very firm timeline. Something big is happening in a few short weeks.

"Until he announces that I'm his heir," she murmurs. "Daddy has to announce someone, even if he's guiding them for a few more years. The family is impatient, and they expect a man. Like?—"

"Brendan?" I ask, eyes raised. "Seems surprising to name someone who works for you over your own daughter."

"Eh, he's a cousin somewhere in the family lineage. I'm fairly certain it's so diluted it doesn't matter," she snorts. "The family expects someone with a cock, and I simply don't have one."

"Could have fooled me," I tease her as she switches off the water. "There's balls of steel somewhere too."

Shaking her head, she steps out of the shower, grabbing us both a towel.

"You could have spoken to me from outside of the shower," she says. "You're soaked now."

"Worth it to get you to actually listen to me," I say, pulling off my clothes to dry off and wrap the towel around my waist.

Grunting something I can't hear, she leads me out of the room, pointing at the hamper for my clothes. Once she's completely dried off, she pulls on a long-sleeved T-shirt and socks, and nothing else.

"Why do you hate panties so damn much?" I groan. "Do you ever wear any?"

"Occasionally, I don't like the way they rub against my clit piercing," she reveals, turning to crawl up onto the bed. Taking this as an invitation, I move over to sit by her.

"Do you want to take over your father's legacy?" I ask, brow raised.

"Not really, but I think anyone else would let the family run wild," Líadan says. "They truly believe they are the superior members of humanity. The world should bow at their feet, and Daddy just throws them a bone whenever they complain."

"What would you do differently?" I ask.

"No more of these sex training warehouses for one," she says. "Daddy doesn't think I know how many people are kidnapped a year at his nod. Gorgeous men and women of all ages, whose only crime is that they're beautiful. Often, they're also talented in some way as well. Those who are in charge of finding new people to sell find them and a reason to rope them in. An interview that's bogus or an audition."

"Holy fuck," I mutter.

"I would change things to only being allowed to take those who want to be sold," she says. "You'd be surprised how many people find being someone's pet is better than the life they had before. I don't understand it, and doing away with it all would cause huge issues, but I can change how things are done."

"Alright, what else would you do?" I ask.

"I'd allow younger daughters and sons to go to school, find out what they want to do, and encourage them to follow those dreams," she says. "It doesn't mean they'll be free of the family, but they'll have a taste of freedom and normalcy. They'd return with occupations that can help the organization without having to work lower positions. I'm not a hero, I just know things can't continue like this."

"Maybe so, but what about your happiness?" I ask. I can tell she's getting tired of the questions, and this will need to be the last one.

"I don't get any," Líadan whispers. "No, that's a lie. I get to keep Brendan for as long as I can. I get glimpses of happiness with him. I often feel nothing at all."

Getting ready to leave her to unwind from whatever she did today, I take a deep breath. I know I said I wouldn't ask another question, but I need to.

"What did you feel the night in the warehouse?" I ask her. It's a burning question now, and I don't think I'll be able to sleep across the hall from her and not know.

"I felt… excited to see something, surprised, aroused, and as if a small piece of my destroyed heart was put back together, even if just for a moment," she says, plucking at a loose thread on her bedspread.

"I don't think I've ever felt you feel so electrified," Brendan says from the doorway. I left it open when I came in, and I stiffen since I'm sitting here in just a towel. His gaze simply passes over me appreciatively before settling on Líadan. The use of the word ‘electrified' also sends shivers up my spine.

"Are you hungry, Lía?"

I notice he never calls her by her full name. I'm not about to commandeer his special name for her, but I'll be more cognizant not to use her full name. As much as she complains about it, she likes my names for her.

"Not right now, but if you are, I'll keep you company," she says.

The connection between them is one born of some sort of trauma, a deep love trying to survive her father's underworld.

"I would love that," Brendan says with a smirk. "I want to know all about your adventures and why my brat was too busy not to call me today."

My lips twitch in amusement. It's nice to know it's not just me that she's like this with.

"Jordan, go put your monster cock away before I have to suck the soul out of your body," Brendan growls. "I need to eat something, whether it's your cum or actual food makes no difference to me. Your Prince Albert piercing is also on display from where I'm standing."

Oops. When I started to get up, I spread my legs wide. He's getting quite the show at the moment.

"With the way your dirty mouth talks, it's no wonder I'm hard," I say, standing. "I have no control over where the blood travels in my body, Brendan,"

"Maybe so," he rumbles. "Either way, go get dressed and come eat with us. Líadan has been avoiding you."

"I've noticed," I say, loving the way her cheeks warm. I think she feels a lot more than she gives herself credit for. "I'll meet you downstairs."

Attempting to brush past him, I gasp as his large hand palms my cock as he slips past my towel.

"For the record, it's a pretty spectacular cock," he says. "I should probably have my dinner before dessert first, though."

"Fuck me," I growl. "Thank you for the compliment, but there's no goddamn chance my cock is going to go down after this."

"Good. I love a nice edging, don't you," he rumbles.

"God, I remember what you did with the detachable shower once. I learned exactly how good our water pressure and water heater are," Líadan complains. "Hours, Jordan. He refused to let me come."

"I'm sure you did something to deserve that, brat," I say as Brendan squeezes my cock before releasing me.

"Don't gang up on me," she pouts as I chuckle and walk to my room.

Dinner sounds really good right about now.