22. Cillian

I still haven't seenElena.

I'm a pathetic piece of shit.

The only silver lining is that I'm able to get around with a cane versus those fucking crutches now. There's still a lingering pain in my thigh, but each day it gets a little more tolerable.

My phone vibrates in my pocket from an unknown number, and I groan as I answer it.

"Mr. O'Brien."

"Yes?"

"This is Kristi with American Express. We wanted to call to make sure the recent charges on your card are not fraudulent. Do you know the last retailer you used your card at?"

I didn't, because I gave Elena—well, Declan—the card. She hadn't used it, until today, apparently.

"How much was spent?"

"Around eighty thousand dollars, sir."

"Where are the charges from?" I ask calmly.

"Nest Knots, Neiman Marcus, Cozy Earth, Jimmy Cho, Armani. Should I continue, sir?"

"No, my Omega is just having a bit of a tantrum. All transactions are approved."

"We do offer an exclusive card for packs if that would be something you would like to upgrade to, Mr. O'Brien."

"Not at this time, thank you."

I hang up the phone with a smile on my face. Her spending my money has to be some sort of step in the right direction, right? I know I should go up and talk to her, that I should make amends and explain myself. That was my whole plan when I left the hospital after being shot by her worthless brother.

But after that dinner, the way she broke down and cried, I just don't know what I can say to make her look at me the way she used to.

In retrospect, my idea was stupid. If I knew what I know now, I would have just taken her that night, and figured out a way to get in her good graces from there. She did like me when we were at the High Roller, but now she's a mixture of pissed and devastated, and there's nothing I can do to fix it.

My daunting thoughts of what to do with my Omega are put on hold as my brother walks into the room. He's wearing a suit, which we both know won't stay on for long, not with what he has planned for the evening. I don't understand why he insists on continuing to fight in the ring.

"Glad you finally look human. It would be embarrassing to have my brother cheering me on in stained sweatpants and a shirt with mysterious stains."

"You're sure Anthony doesn't have any of his men coming tonight?"

"He'd have to have a death wish to show his face," my brother replies with a smile, one that I know all too well. He's up to something.

"He's been quiet, Finn."

Finn smiles, and I sigh, wondering what the fuck he did.

"What did you do?"

"Anthony isn't as gracious as his father. Less money, more danger, makes a man want to quit his job, you know?"

I blink at my brother.

"Salvatore's daughter, Natasha, has also gone missing. Anthony has found himself with a lot of enemies," my brother alludes with a shrug.

"You didn't take the Capos' daughter, did you?"

"No. My kidnapping days are definitely fucking over."

I rub a hand down my face and groan. "If the Barbieris find out this was us?—"

Finn holds up a hand to silence me. "I'm not fucking messy like you. The Barbieri girl is said to be hiding her designation. Some other asshole in one of the other families must have taken it upon themselves to see if that's true or not. Tonight is about proving to Salvatore Barbieri that we can be allies, that we had nothing to do with that shit. Go tell the girl to get ready. She's coming with us," Finn orders.

"Like hell she's coming to a fucking underground fighting ring."

"Barbieri needs to see that we have no fucking reason to take his vapid, little daughter. I already sent Lorcàn out to get her something to wear tonight, and Declan is trying to gauge her cooperation."

"This is a bad fucking idea."

"You know what's a worse idea?" he counters, arching a brow at me. I just shake my head, and he glares at me. "I understand she's your scent match, Cillian, and that she's something you want—I'm not standing in the way of that—but taking care of this empire? Making sure this family doesn't fucking fall apart? That's on me. She's coming tonight, and she better act like she's happier than a pig in shit to be a member of the O'Brien pack."

I groan and rub a hand down my face.

There's no fucking way in hell that's going to happen. Elena might have some sort of truce with Declan and Lorcàn, but her hatred for Finn and me runs deep.

"I'll meet you at the arena. I expect there to be no issues," Finn commands, and I just give him a curt nod.

Even though walking up the stairs makes me want to utter every curse word I know, I slowly but steadily make the climb. Each step feels like a strain in my thigh, and I know it's a mistake. The motherfucker is going to be burning this entire evening while I have to act like it doesn't hurt, like it's just a goddamn scratch.

There can be no signs of weakness tonight, especially in front of the Italians. If we have Salvatore Barbieri on our side, we'll have everything we need. He has more men and more incentive to take out Anthony. As soon as he's gone, our lives will get a whole lot easier. Not to mention he needs to pay for what he did to me, Rory, and especially Cian.

I grunt through the pain in my leg and think of Cian. He didn't even get to start his life. That piece of shite sent any future he would have had up in flames. All over greed and some false ownership of Elena, the sister he never cared about until it could benefit him somehow.

The pain in my thigh is ricocheting through my leg by the time I get upstairs. Lorcàn's door is open, and I wonder just how much Finn fucked up by locking her in that room for three days.

Fuck. This isn't going to be easy.

I nudge the door open with my cane and watch as Elena slides one of her black high heels on.

She looks stunning.

Her blonde hair is down in waves, and the black sequin dress she's wearing clings to every curve of her body. The dress is far more modest than anything she ever wore at the High Roller. The neckline goes all the way to her throat, and the hemline ends right above her knees.

"If you're here to complain about the credit card, you can talk to Declan," she dismisses me, crossing her arms over her chest once done with her shoe. She looks down at the cane for a few moments before looking at my face.

"I'm not here to talk about the credit card. I don't care what you spend."

She seems slightly irritated with my answer. It seems like my Omega almost wants to fight.

"Do you want to yell at me some more?" I ask, and she huffs.

"No, I just want one day out of this room, out of this fucking house," she complains. Her blue eyes look glossy, but she blinks it away.

"What have Lorcàn and Declan said about tonight?"

She rolls her eyes and turns to face the mirror to apply her mascara.

"That this is some dick-measuring contest to get Salvator Barbieri to work with you. That I'll be safe and to stay with one of you at all times."

"It's important that we look like a unified pack, Elena."

She narrows her eyes in the mirror as they flash to me before she goes back to doing her makeup.

"Why? Because I'm contractually obligated to like you?" she snarls, hitting me where it hurts.

"Because Salvatore's daughter was kidnapped."

She lets out a snort and throws her head back.

"Good luck to that bastard."

"You know her?"

"Of course, I know her. We practically grew up competing with one another. If you think I handled being kidnapped poorly, I can't imagine the dumbass who thought to take her."

"He wants to take a stand against your brother. He suspects him."

She takes out her lipstick and applies it to her lips. "He isn't that reckless. Also, he doesn't even really like Natasha. It was all about joining the two largest Italian families in the West. If anything, he's probably happy someone else took her off of his hands."

"You know we can't just leave your brother untouched after everything he did?" I ask.

"I wouldn't expect you to."

The answer settles something inside of me, and I take a few more steps toward her.

"Don't," she barks softly, shaking her head. "I'll play my part tonight. I'll be good, show I can be trusted. Salvatore will think I'm the devoted Omega of the O'Brien pack. But that changes nothing between us, Cillian."

"You seem to have forgiven Lorcàn and Declan."

As soon as I say it, I know it's a mistake.

She spins around on the chair to look at me, her face filled with hurt.

Hurt that I helped cause.

"I haven't forgotten or forgiven anyone. But I'm not a fucking idiot either. I know my options are few and far between, and I've chosen the lesser of two evils in this house. Don't confuse my self-preservation as forgiveness."

She gets up from the chair and walks to the bathroom before slamming the door.

A low whistle sounds behind me where Declan is perched on the wall in the hallway.

"Amazing how you dug yourself into an even bigger hole, cane and all," he deadpans.

"Security needs to be tight with her coming with us tonight."

"Already on it, boss."

"One of us needs to be with her at all times, no exceptions. She needs to piss. You're in the stall handing her the toilet paper. You got it?"

Declan rolls his eyes and pushes off the wall. "I really hope she forgives you soon so we don't have to deal with your little temper tantrum."

Fucker definitely heard my call earlier.

"Where's Lorcàn?"

"He's at the venue making sure everything is going according to plan and that we have safe accommodations for Elena. You know he was her bodyguard for nearly four fucking years, Cillian."

"I don't give a shit."

"Yeah, we all fucking know," he grumbles.

I poke him with my cane, trying to catch up with him the best I can as he makes his way down the hall.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He sighs and shakes his head. "You fucking started this, so finish it," I taunt him, wanting to know what crawled up his ass and died.

"What are you gonna do, beat it out of me with your cane?"

"What is your problem?"

"My fucking problem is that it's yours and Finn's fucking world, and we all live in it. Lorcàn spent years with Elena, pining after her, taking care of her, and not once did either of you thank him for that shite. He's back in this house, the only one able to give her any comfort, and yet he's still a second-class citizen. He came from the same fucking ball sack as you motherfuckers, but because he didn't have your bitch of a mother?—"

"Watch yourself, Declan," I growl, cutting him off.

"I'm just saying, you and your fucking womb mate are the whole reason we're in this pile of shite, and yet you both act like you're the ones saving this fucking family." He laughs and shakes his head. "This family, pack—whatever the fuck you want to call it—is carried on the backs of us lowly servants, and don't you forget it," he sneers before turning around and walking down the hall.

I feel a presence behind me, assuming it's Elena. But it's Maeve acting like she's dusting the wall.

"You have something to say too?" I snap, but she just continues dusting the already pristine wall.

"I think my boy said everything worth mentioning," she replies before walking into Elena's room.

If tonight doesn't kill me, having to deal with everyone in this house will.