Gods & Angels | Sinners of Saint Benedicts duet 1 (dark/bully romance)

Chapter Eleven

By Monday, I'd fallen back into the same old routine at the Callahan Estate.

I'd spent most holidays with them since I'd started at Saint Benedicts. All but the majority of Summer and some of Christmas. It was like a second home. I supposed it was to get me used to it. Keep an eye on me. Like a modern day hostage situation; bring the girl up in her intended's kingdom.

I was heading down the stairs, on the phone to my mother, who was checking in as she actually did relatively often. During term time it was mostly email and text, as we both had busy schedules. And, by that, I meant that she wasn't usually free between four and seven in the evening when I was.

"You still haven't sent me a decent picture of your ring," she accused, but good-naturedly.

"I'm sure I did," I told her with a wry smile.

"You didn't. I'm looking through the..." She paused. "Oh, no. There it is. Why didn't I see that earlier?"

I wasn't going to tell her it was because she'd never bothered to learn technology properly. I wasn't going to say anything even remotely derogatory to or about her, because she didn't have to be good at that stuff and I loved her.

My father might have been organising my future wedding for the sake of a business contract, and it might be normal for him because that was how his marriage came about, but my mother was me...just twenty-odd years older. She knew and understood my situation intimately and, though we'd never directly, outwardly spoken about it, I knew she was in my corner and I had to appreciate that.

"At least it sounds like you had a good birthday. Did you and Florence do anything?" she asked.

I nodded, despite knowing she couldn't see me. "She made me a cake and snuck a three-litre bottle of 'Elle and Lui' in for us."

Mum chuckled, managing to tinge it with a touch of disapproval. "Well, I'm sure I did worse at your age," she said.

I opened my mouth to reply, but froze when I saw three men striding purposefully across the foyer in the direction of Archer's office. My blood ran cold, and I nearly lost my hold on my phone. Valen was following two other men. Two other Kincaids.

Ahead was Cillian Kincaid. Patriarch of the Kincaid Family. Though, family was perhaps a misnomer. Blood was less important than loyalty to the Family - the capital 'F' type. It just helped that most of the Family were in fact blood relations.

He was a big man. Tall and wide, with ash brown hair and an ugly scar running down his cheek and disappearing into his shirt collar. He wore a suit, like they always did. The goal was to fit in. Shame then about the light splattering of blood contrasting the pristine whiteness of his shirt. That wasn't going to stand up in polite society.

Next to him, a step behind, was Kane Kincaid. If his father hadn't put ice in my veins, Kane would have. At twenty-six, he wasn't quite as tall as his younger brother or his father, but he was big enough. Where Valen was dark hair and pale eyes, Kane was light hair and dark eyes; ash blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He always watched me for a moment too long. He didn't just strike the fear of God into me like a good Kincaid was wont to do, he also gave me a creepy shiver up my spine.

His eye caught mine with an unsettling wink as the three of them stalked across the marbled floor and I was so busy proving he didn't bother me that I almost glossed over Valen. But as soon as I turned my eyes to the youngest Kincaid, they weren't in any danger of leaving.

His suit was ripped. The blood splattering Cillian was nothing compared to what covered Valen. He looked like someone had Carrie-d him; pouring a whole bucket of blood right over his head. I couldn't tell if he was injured under it. I didn't know if it was his blood or not.