Chapter 16 It went off without a hitch." Callie sat next to Papa while John gave his report. There had been significant damage done to the Hallorans' property, no casualties, and they slipped away into the night before the Hallorans showed up to investigate. She leaned forward in her chair. "The night guards?" "We incapacitated them like you ordered." Her breath left her in a nearly inaudible sigh. Thank God. The attack had been a necessary evil, but getting a low-level guard killed for no reason would have weighed heavy on her conscience. They had parents, possibly even children. They didn't deserve to be dragged into this. In an ideal world, no one would die before they got this conflict resolved. But this wasn't an ideal world. She cleared her throat. "Well done." "Get some rest." Papa waited for the man to leave the office before he turned to her. "You were right." Pleasure at his approval threatened to go to her head. He'd never withheld it from her growing up, but it had always been something she strived for. She didn't let it guide every choice she made these days, but the need to make him happy was always there in the back of her mind. "There are more ways to hurt someone than taking their life." "Halloran doesn't feel that way. He'll strike back, and he'll strike back to hurt." He suddenly looked tired, the lines around his mouth and eyes deepening. "Stay close, Callie. I couldn't bear it if you..." One more reason she couldn't turn herself over to the Hallorans. If something happened to her, the last of her father's children, it might actually kill Papa. She covered his hand with her own. "I'll be careful, but you know as well as I do that I can't hide away in the house like a princess in a tower. This won't be the last conflict, and the men need to see that I can lead." "I know. Good lord, Callie, I know that." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're more than capable of leading, but I'm human. I want to protect my daughter." "I understand." But there were no guarantees. Papa knew that. It had been decades since the Sheridans warred with another family. All she remembered of it was her mother taking her and Ronan out of town and a wonderful summer spent in the country. She hadn't understood then the new lines around her father's face when they'd returned. She did now. She squeezed his hand. "It won't be like before." It wasn't a promise she could make, but that didn't stop her. Last time, he'd systematically killed the head of the MacNamara clan, and all three of his grown sons. She couldn't allow him to make that decision again. He had enough deaths on his soul. Hell, she had enough deaths on her soul, and they totaled out at one. But she would add as many as it took to save her father from more-and to save Teague from adding any at all. She glanced at the clock on Papa's desk. It was approaching noon and she still hadn't heard from him. Worry flickered through her, but she firmly ignored it. When they'd spoken last night, it was clear he was drinking with his brothers. It was entirely possible that he was sleeping off an epic hangover. There was no reason for the hairs to be rising on the back of her neck. She pulled her hair over one shoulder, combing her fingers through it in an effort to distract herself. "You're strong, Callie. You'll get through this." "We both will," she said firmly. She was nowhere near ready to take over the family. The sheer amount of responsibility her father shouldered on a daily basis was staggering. She could do it. She knew she could. But it meant her father was no longer strong enough to do it himself. She wasn't ready to acknowledge that, even if he was. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. "Excuse me." She slipped it out, finding a text from Teague. Three little words, but every cell in her body cried out in warning that something was terribly wrong. I need you. It was tempting-too tempting-to act like he was talking in a physical way, but instinct said that wasn't the case. Something had gone terribly wrong. She typed out a quick reply. Where and when? His answer confirmed her worry was founded. My parents' home. Now. Callie pushed to her feet. "I've got to go." "Is something wrong?" Yes! She made an effort to keep her voice calm and her body relaxed, even though all she wanted to do was tear out of the room and rush to Teague's side. "I don't know." Papa nodded. "Take Micah and one of the other men with you." "I will." It wouldn't slow her down much, and the added safety was necessary, even if only to get her to Teague's side without interruption. She pressed a kiss to the top of her father's head and strode from the room. It took seconds to grab her purse and text Micah to meet her in the garage. He was there before she was, dangling the keys from the SUV from his fingers. "Do you want to drive, or should I?" She was so rattled, it was entirely possible she'd end up wrecking the damn car. "It'd be best if you do. But, Micah, drive fast." He nodded and opened the door for her. Another man, one of the new recruits whose name she couldn't quite place, slipped silently into the backseat. No one said a word as Micah pulled out of the garage and onto the street. Callie took a deep breath. "To the O'Malleys'." She kept checking her phone, but there was nothing new from Teague. She resisted the urge to text him again and ask what was going on. Barely. She'd find out soon enough. That wasn't nearly as much of a comfort as she'd have liked it to be. She shouldn't be remotely surprised that the O'Malleys' home was on Beacon Hill. They might not be able to have a legitimate claim as Boston's elite, but they certainly reeked of new money parading as old money. Still... She stepped out of the SUV, unable to stop herself from feeling intimidated. The front door towered over her, seemingly ready to gobble her up the moment she missed a step, the tree-lined street giving every brownstone an aura of hushed secrecy. She tried to dismiss the feeling as pure fancy, but she couldn't quite shake it. She looked at Micah. He frowned. "Don't even think about it. We're going in with you." It might be cowardly to feel the level of gratitude flowing through her at his words, but she had no idea what she was walking into. She didn't think she'd be in danger from anyone in the O'Malley family, but she couldn't be sure. And, because she couldn't be sure, she allowed Micah and the other man to fall in behind her as she climbed the steps to the massive door and raised her hand to knock. It opened before she made contact. Considering the sheer size of the house and how it brought to mind old money, she half expected to see a butler. But it was Keira who stood there, her hazel eyes bloodshot and her face red and swollen from crying. "Callie." That was all the warning she got before the girl threw herself into Callie's arms. She looked over her head at Micah, who shrugged. Apparently he was done helping. She smoothed down Keira's dark hair, trying to breathe around the stranglehold she had on her ribs. "I'm here. What's going on?" "It's so horrible." Her body shook. "It's Devlin. He's..." She didn't need to finish the sentence for Callie to understand. She knew this grief, recognized it on an intimate level. Shock nearly sent her to her knees. No. Oh no, no, no. She hugged the girl tight. "I'm so terribly sorry." Keira only cried harder, her entire body a giant clench as she lifted her head. It only took one look in her eyes to realize this was surface reaction. There was a part of the girl who hadn't caught up with the news yet and, when it truly hit, the results would be devastating. And it could happen at any time. Callie gently guided her into the house. "Where is everyone?" "The living room." She sniffed. "Can you show me?" "Yeah." Keira straightened her shoulders, and Callie could actually see her drawing her walls around her. It was slightly terrifying to watch. The girl had lost the shine of innocence that she'd had only last night. Now there was a hardened, brittle feel to her that made Callie's heart ache. In this world, everyone had to grow up sometime, but she hated that this happened to any of them-especially to the starry-eyed girl who'd danced and laughed and had the time of her life just twelve short hours ago. She followed Keira through the house, taking in the dark woods and deep green on the walls. This place practically screamed overwhelming power, and the feeling of being swallowed whole came back with a vengeance. This was the place Teague had grown up in? She couldn't begin to imagine children playing in these halls, or getting into the kinds of trouble that only young kids seemed to find. It was all so... uptight. Her home was a similar size, but aside from Papa's office and the single room they kept spotless to receive important guests, it felt more lived in. Comfortable. It was the kind of place where a person could prop their feet up and relax. Exactly the opposite of this place. She glanced down at the floor, half-sure she'd tracked dirt all over the spotless wood floors. She was focusing on the house so she didn't have to think about the scene she was going to walk into. She knew that. It was easier dealing with the decorating than with what was coming. Teague's brother... Old hurt rose, no less potent for the months that had passed. Oh, Ronan. She knew all too well what the people in this house were feeling right now, and there was a very large part of her that wanted to turn on her heel and get out of here as fast as she could run. She didn't want the memories, didn't want the grief, didn't want the tears. But Teague needed her. She lifted her chin and kept her steps steady as they turned a corner and approached a pair of double doors. Raised male voices gave her pause. She recognized Teague's, even through the fury and pain it held. "This is what you wanted, Aiden. War. Are you happy now?" "This isn't what I wanted." This voice was quieter, but no less full of poisonous emotions. "This was never what I wanted." "That's what war is. Death of the people you care about. I swear to God-" Keira opened the door. The room was large with soulless-and no doubt horrendously expensive-art covering the walls and a carefully arranged set of white couches dominating the space. Not that anyone except Sloan was currently utilizing the furniture. She sat with her knees pulled to her chest, her gaze a thousand miles away. There was another man-a brother if his similarities to Aiden were any sign-standing well back, a bottle of what looked like whiskey in his hands. And there was Teague, standing toe to toe with his older brother and looking ready to go several rounds. He stopped when he saw her, his dark eyes containing so much pain, she was helpless to resist going to him. She stepped into the room, and glanced over her shoulder to keep Micah and his partner out. He nodded, though he didn't look happy about it. Callie turned back to find Teague directly in front of her. She reached out to touch him, but hesitated. He didn't appear as brittle as Keira, but that didn't mean he wasn't. Before she could decide whether to make contact or not, he took her hand and pulled her into his arms. "You're here." She hugged him like he'd fly apart if she let go. "I'm here." He stepped back, but took hold of her hand. "Aiden, we're not done." The man he'd looked about ready to come to blows with dropped onto the couch across from Sloan. "I figured." Teague nodded and led her out of the room. He didn't say a single thing as they passed through yet more halls, finally climbing a narrow set of stairs and slipping into a room that must be his. She didn't get much chance to look around, because he shut the door and then she was back in his arms, his hold so tight, she thought she heard her ribs creak. "What can I do?" S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ƒindNoᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Just hold me." His voice was thick against her temple. "I need a few minutes." "Okay." She could do that. Words wouldn't do a single thing, but if this gave him any kind of comfort, she was more than happy to hang on to him until night fell and reality called. He nudged her back to the bed in short little steps and sat down, pulling her into his lap. "It was my fault." She tensed. "It couldn't possibly be." "Cillian was drunk. We all were. I thought it'd be brilliant to walk home." He sounded like a man kissably close to rock bottom. "They caught us less than two blocks from the pub." Her heart stopped. "They?" Even as she asked, she knew what the answer was. She'd been a stupid fool not to consider it before. If something happened to Teague's youngest brother, there was one likely culprit. God, she never hoped she'd be wrong so much as in that moment. "The Hallorans." She closed her eyes, the weight on her shoulders threatening to crush her. If Teague was looking for someone to blame, he had to look no further than the woman in his arms. Her fault. Her actions had put this whole thing into motion, and now his little brother's death was on her hands. If Teague found out, he'd never forgive her. She wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself. The tide that had been drowning Teague since he realized Devlin would never follow through on his many dreams retreated slightly with Callie in his arms. It wasn't gone. He knew that. He didn't want it gone. To move on with his life as if nothing was wrong would be unforgivable. There was a gaping hole in his chest and it didn't show signs of closing anytime soon. He closed his eyes and inhaled Callie's rose scent. "Devlin was..." His throat tried to close. She hugged him tighter, careful of his bruised side. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to." "I know. I want to. I need to..." He didn't even know. His life hadn't been untouched by pain up to this point, but calling what he was feeling pain was a gross understatement. There was an abyss inside him that had never existed before, ready to swallow him whole. She nodded against his chest. "You want to remember him how he was in life, not how it ended." "Yes." That was it. That broken, bloody body wasn't his brother. Everything that made Devlin Devlin fled the moment he took his last breath. Fuck, this never should have happened. I should have protected him, gotten him and the girls out of town and safe until I knew the danger had passed. The wound in his chest pulsed in agony, the abyss opening wider. He'd been damn near cocky, sure that he'd find the identity of Brendan's killer before something terrible happened. The price he paid for being wrong was too high. "I'd do anything for a time machine to take me back a week." "I know." The quiet grief in her voice snapped him temporarily out of his spiral. Because she did know. She'd lost her brother less than a year ago. It hadn't been in violence, but that really didn't make a difference when someone so young was suddenly gone, taken too soon. "Does this feeling ever go away?" Callie shifted. "There will always be bad days, I think. Days where you wake up and forget that he's gone, and then the realization hits and it's every bit as bad as what you're feeling now. But there will be good days. At first they're so few and far between it's like they don't exist at all, but then one shows up and it's this soft ray of sunshine in the midst of a hurricane. You barely notice it, and then it's gone. And then, sometime not too long after that, another one shows up, and another, until the balance shifts and you have more sunshine than storm." The sheer amount of time he'd be forced to deal with this feeling was nearly overwhelming. Teague closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Devlin deserved it. He deserved to be mourned. Life couldn't just go on as it had before, with only the slightest of hiccups. "He'll never finish his degree. He'll never get to backpack through Europe and have that great adventure he'd been dreaming of since he was a kid. He'll never fall head over heels in love with a pretty girl and lose his heart. He'll never have kids." She leaned back and framed his face with her hands. "I know there's nothing I can do to make this right, Teague. I am so terribly sorry." There was a strange weight to her words. He looked into her blue eyes, trying to understand it. "This has to be answered, angel. You understand that?" Her eyes shone in the low lamplight. "There's nothing we can do to stop it now, is there?" "No." Part of him howled for blood to repay the loss of Devlin's future. It didn't matter that James used to be a friend. His brother was dead, and that demanded retribution. The other part of him? It just wanted this to end. Devlin's death was horrible-he didn't know if he'd ever fully recover-but if more of the people he cared about died? If Callie died? "Marry me." He didn't realize he was going to say the words until they hung in the air between them. She blinked. "Excuse me?" "Marry me." When she still looked uncertain, he plunged ahead. "I wanted to wait until this was over, and get a real fresh start with you that wasn't tainted by this war brought on by our fathers and a situation outside our control." Her expression flickered, but she didn't say anything, so he kept going. "But it's not going to end. There will always be the next conflict, or something showing up to drag us deeper, whether we want it or not. I care about you, angel, and I'd never forgive myself if I spent another day without us being husband and wife." Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "That was some proposal." "It was the best I could come up with on the fly." He kissed her, soft and sweet. "Marry me, angel. Tonight." "There's a three-day waiting period to get a marriage license." She sounded uncertain, but not panicked. "I know a judge." He smoothed his thumbs over her cheekbones. "Say yes." She hesitated still. "This won't bring Devlin back, Teague." The loss rose up, ready to swallow him whole. There was no fighting it, no resistance strong enough to keep it at bay, even in Callie's presence. He took a shuddering breath. "I know. I wanted to marry you even before this happened. This just made me realize that I can't take the future for granted. There's no guarantee of tomorrow, not even for us." He shifted her off his lap and went to one knee before her. "Teague-" "Marry me, angel. Today. Right now." He took her hand. "Say yes and I'll spend the rest of my days doing my damnedest to protect you from harm and make you happy. I'm not perfect and I'll fuck up, but say yes and I'll never hesitate to apologize, and I sure as hell won't ever lay my hands on you in anger. Just say yes." She pressed her free hand to her mouth. "Yes." At first he was sure he'd misheard her. But then she nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You're right. There are no guarantees but... I want your ring on my finger and you in my life for as long as we're granted. Not because of your family or my family or consolidating power or any of the other reasons that originally drove us to agree to this marriage. I want you, Teague. I choose you. " In "Accidentally Seduced the Billionaire Heir After Betrayal" by CrushReel, a tale of romance and revenge unfolds as our protagonist faces the aftermath of her husband's betrayal. After three years of separation, she uncovers a shocking truth: her estranged husband has fathered a child with his mistress. Despite the heartbreak, she navigates through the complexities with resilience and unwavering determination. Amidst themes of trust, resilience, and self-discovery, this modern romance delves into the intricacies of love and betrayal in the high-stakes world of CEOs and billionaires. 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