I turned around to face him, wearing nothing but my underwear and the ring. I blinked at it. A gasp of shock and pleasure escaped me. I looked up to Sam with eyes full of tears.

“Troy gave Sparrow a ring with a blood red diamond. It reminded him of her hair. I wanted to do the same, but when I think of you, I don’t think about your hair. I think about those eyes. They taunt me. The absolute blueness of them.”

He took my hand and kissed the ring, a huge halo ring of diamonds surrounding the center stone—an emerald-cut octagon-shaped sapphire. I kissed it, too, laughing and crying at the same time.

“You were going to win all along, weren’t you?” I whispered, referring to our blackjack game. “You knew you were.”

He cupped my cheeks, pulling me to him.

“I was never going to lose you, Ash. That wasn’t in the cards, or on the table, or part of the agenda. You were always going to be mine. You had to have known that.”

“I am going to kill you, Brennan.” Cillian Fitzpatrick stormed into my office at Badlands the following day, with Hunter trailing behind him. “You have some nerve cornering my sister like that. Your bet with her is off. We’ll pay the money.”

I sat back in my seat, smirking as I tapped my fingers over my mouth. It had been three hours since I dropped Aisling off at the clinic to hand in her resignation, and already I missed her like crazy. The idea of giving up on the engagement after she’d agreed to it seemed as far from reality as letting Cillian and Hunter shove a ten-foot spiky dildo into my ass while I watch reruns of Hannah Montana.

“I don’t want the money,” I drawled.

“Well too bad…” Cillian stopped in front of my desk, his fists clenched “…because buying my sister is not an option.”

“I didn’t buy her, I won her. You were the one who bought your wife, while we’re on the subject, and you…” I turned to Hunter before he opened his mouth “…you don’t even have a say in this. You’re having sex with my sister. Count your blessing that you are still alive. I still have no idea what she sees in you.”

Hunter lifted his hands up in surrender. “Same here, bro. I have no idea why she is with me. I just know I’m not letting her go.”

“How did you get in here anyway?” I frowned. The entrance was manned by two bodyguards.

Cillian took a seat in front of me, and Hunter occupied the chair beside him as they both invited themselves to stay.

Cillian and Hunter had no idea what went on between me, their father, Aisling and Jane, and I intended to keep it that way. Not because I gave a fuck about what they thought but because I knew it would hurt Aisling if her brothers doubted my devotion to her. And she would be upset when Hunter and Cillian passed the information along to Persephone, Sailor, and Devon, making the fact I stabbed her in the back a well-known matter.

“Oh, I know Johnny and Grayson from way back.” Hunter waved his hand around dismissively, referring to the bouncers standing at the front door. “I told them we came in to congratulate you on your engagement.”

“When really we came here to tell you that you will not blackmail our sister.” Cillian lit up a cigar. The stench of the burning rolled tobacco drifted around the room, and I tried to remember what I liked about smoking. Cigars smelled like feet on fire, and cigarettes were their cheaper equivalent.

It was peculiar. How both bad and good habits were born from boredom. How they turned into an obsession, an addiction, before you knew it. And how taking back control from them became a habit in itself.

“Your sister is a big girl.” I laced my fingers together on my desk, trying to keep the disdain from my voice. “She came to me of her own free will. As you recall, you paid me not to get anywhere near her, which should tell you something about her reaction to me.”

“And as you recall, you crapped all over your promise not to touch her, if you are getting married now,” Cillian retorted.

Cillian wasn’t wrong, but he couldn’t prove his suspicion either, so I just flashed him a barely tolerant smile.

“Do you have proof?”

“No, but—”

“Then I suggest you keep your opinion where it belongs, in Reddit conspiracy theory threads. Aisling and I are engaged to be married. The marriage will take place sooner rather than later. I’ve already spoken to your father about deducting the annual bonus for not touching her as I intend to touch her very often—and very inappropriately. I understand that the Fitzpatrick family enjoys seeing Ash as the prized, devoted daughter who dotes on Jane and fulfills her father’s every whim, but this stops now.”

“Which brings us to our next topic.” Cillian narrowed his eyes at me. “Seems to me like the entire divorce ordeal between my parents, along with the stolen cufflinks and poison case disappeared into thin air. As the person in charge of the situation, would you care to explain it?” He held his cigar between his teeth, half-smiling.

The problem with Cillian was that, unlike most of my rich clients, he was smart and observant. Those things were definitely a thorn in my side.

“Gladly.” I smacked my lips together. “We found the person responsible for all those things. For obvious reasons, your father swiped it under the rug. Didn’t want your mother to become even more upset with him when another lover came to light. How is Jane doing, by the way?”

“Don’t pretend like you care,” Cillian yawned. I doubted he cared, too.

“Fair enough.” I chuckled. Hunter, the only one out of us three who actually gave a fuck, confirmed that she was still attending therapy. Good for her. She needed all the help she could get because I was never letting her emotionally manipulate Aisling again.

“You quit smoking, huh?” Hunter’s gaze flicked to my desk, which now lacked the usual mountain of ashtrays, cigarette packs, and Zippos. “From one addict to another, let me tell you, I’m really proud of you.”

“That warms my heart,” I said.

“Really?” Hunter’s eyes lit up.

“No,” I deadpanned, looking between them. “Did you get everything you came here for? I have a busy day. It’s called work…” I snapped my fingers, making a show of reminding them “…you know that thing people do to make money when they are not born into royalty.”

“You are about to marry into royalty,” Hunter jested, wiggling his brows.

“Which reminds me,” Cillian put his cigar out, standing up and buttoning his blazer, “there is no way I am letting you marry my sister without a prenup.”

“I’ll sign the goddamn prenup,” I bit out, “but she can’t know that.”

“She can’t know that?” Hunter frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s not the money I care about, it’s keeping your sister,” I grunted, annoyed that I had to spell it out for him, like he didn’t know what it meant to be pussy-whipped.

“You really do love her, don’t you?” Hunter grinned smugly.

“Give us a smart-ass answer and I will kill you,” Cillian warned.

I was about to answer when someone kicked the door down, sending it flying off its hinges and skating along the floor. I reached for my gun in my desk’s drawer, but the two men in the balaclavas were faster.