The Final Hour (Dublin Nights Book 5)

by Brittney Sahin

  “You lied to me. Straight-up lied. That’s one thing I never expected from you, Emilia. I knew you were a lot of things, but I didn’t think liar was one of them. And don’t you dare tell me this is the same thing as what we’ve done by withholding the truth from Ethan about Sara.”

  The tic in his jaw became more prominent even though the ice in his blue eyes softened, but not by much.

  He was in pain and lashing out. Rightfully so, I was on the receiving end. Damn my backbone that shouldn’t be so erect after everything I’d done to him. Pushing him away. Hiding my feelings. The lying. Plus, the ruining of his family’s Christmas.

  “If it were up to me, I might never have told you,” I admitted, probably making things worse.

  “And that’s why you panicked at the sight of what you thought was a damn engagement ring and told me the truth in front of my mother?” He pulled back, adding more space between us. Maybe he didn’t trust himself not to kiss me, because honestly, the way he kept eyeing my mouth, it looked like he was seriously considering it. Or maybe bite my lip and draw blood.

  “It was an accident. You didn’t mean to kill him. He bled internally and died in his sleep. I don’t think you should consider this—”

  “Murder?” he spat out.

  I pushed off the wall and advanced toward him, trying to fight the urge to challenge the man I cared about, especially since this was all my fault. But it was my nature to go to battle. To fight and win. “So, it’s murder when you kill but not when I do it?” I glared at him. “I knew you’d feel this way. I knew you’d never be able to live with taking a life.” Anger rose inside my body and had my limbs trembling. “Nor can you love someone like me, either. A murderer. And despite what you say about wanting Luca dead, you don’t believe in killing even in the name of justice.” I pressed up on my toes to be almost nose to nose with him.

  He caught me off guard by spinning me around to the closest wall. He trapped me with his hands over my shoulders and my back to the floral wallpaper. “I don’t love a murderer. I love you,” he rushed out, the deep timbre of his voice stealing the meaning of his words for a moment.

  Sean reached for my hands and threaded our fingers together, sliding our united palms up the wall at my sides. He gripped tighter and held us in place. I had no idea what to say, and this was certainly not how I’d expected Christmas Eve to go.

  “I was trying to protect you from my world,” I said softly, the typical stubborn fight inside me dying in this position, with his body pressed up against mine. His conflicted gaze on me. But it was his words that had my body going lax.

  “I’m already in your world, Emilia. I’ve been living in it for a long time.” He released my hands and backed up, and the chilling effect from the loss of his touch had me clutching my chest. “But you’re never going to make room for me in it, are you? At every turn, you’ll push away when things get too heavy for you.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out the box, and placed it in my hand. He leaned forward and brought his mouth to my ear. “It’s a diamond necklace of a lion’s head. For the MGM where we first met. For courage to be together. And for Chanel. It was designed by that company.” And then he pulled away and started for the door. Each step a shard of glass in my heart.

  “Sean, wait. Where are you going?” I tightened my hand around the box, fighting tears. Why did it feel like goodbye? The real goodbye?

  “I need to find my brother. Make sure he’s okay. He’s family, after all. Someone who will still be here tomorrow, who won’t push me away no matter how scared he is,” he said from over his shoulder without meeting my eyes.

  “Don’t get behind a wheel. Please.” I moved toward him in quick steps, but he refused to look at me. “What if I can make room for you?” I cried, and his body tensed.

  Before he had a chance to respond, there was a knock at the office door, followed by Ethan saying in a grave voice, “We need to talk.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sean

  “Sara has some things she needs to tell you,” Ethan said tersely. He poured a generous amount of whiskey from a decanter into a cut crystal tumbler as he stood inside the office, looking extremely uncomfortable. My brother looked even more on edge than I felt, which I didn’t think was bloody possible.

  Not five minutes ago, I’d been so mad I could swear I saw red. The color of blood had painted my vision like the falling curtain in a theater performance. And then Emilia, like she had a habit of doing, pulled me from the cliff’s edge and away from crazy. I had no idea how I’d gone from being mad at her to confessing I loved her.

  But the fact of the matter was I’d killed a man with my bare hands. Punched him to death. My brother, the life-long fighter, had never done that. But I had. Emilia had been wrong to lie to me. I could handle it. I’d known the day would eventually come when I’d have to take a life, but I’d wanted that life to be Luca’s, not that of some stranger. Was killing in the name of justice wrong? Probably yes. But would I ever look at Emilia or my cousin or anyone else in my family, including myself, differently for having done it? Feck no.

  I could own up to my actions. I’d find a way to deal with this too. I didn’t need Emilia coddling me. To learn Cole and Sebastian knew what I’d done as well made me want to snatch the bottle of whiskey from Ethan and drink it dry. I’d be having a word with them after Sara enlightened us with whatever she had to say, assuming she didn’t change her mind and clam up. If she put on her victim act like she’d done with Ethan the other night and accused me of kissing her, I’d see red again.

  At least Ethan was here, alive and okay. Thank God this devil-woman hadn’t slipped something into his drink and hand-delivered him to The Alliance or Luca, a thought that had only occurred to me while Ma recited her version of The Dead earlier.

  When Ethan had arrived, he requested I be the only one present when Sara spoke. She refused to talk in front of anyone else. I’d been on the verge of arguing, but I was worried my brother would sweep her away from me before she divulged whatever truth she had to share. But how much of what she had to say could I trust? What if this was part two of Luca’s evil plan?

  “What is it?” I barked out at Sara, my arms folded across my chest. I had my back to Da’s desk, which sat at the center of the room. It’d been my great-grandfather’s desk, passed down over the years. One day, Adam or I would inherit it. Most likely me since Adam left the family business and only oversaw work with the McGregor Youth Foundation.

  When I’d been mad at Emilia, I’d pictured setting her on that very desk and fucking her hard. Taking her with everything I had. I was pissed the German died. Angry at Luca and The Alliance. But mostly, seething mad at the fact I was so in love with her, and I was afraid I’d never be able to knock down her walls and make her mine forever. Every time I witnessed a glimmer of hope, she pulled back. That moment tonight, when she saw what she thought was an engagement ring . . . holy hell, the fear in her eyes had been a dagger to my heart.

  Ethan was already on drink number three. Still nothing from Sara.

  She was wringing her hands together in front of her pale pink blouse. Her hair was messy as if she’d been tearing at it, not the perfectly posh image she usually portrayed.

  “I don’t have all night. It’s Christmas Eve,” I reminded them, agitation deepening my tone.

  To hell with this. I braced my hands on the desk at my sides. “You didn’t apply for a loan. Bridgette approached you, right? Offered you a cash infusion to help you out? Said her husband does that sort of thing all the time,” I rattled off the facts, assuming I was right, and Sara’s eyes opened wide in shock. She took one hesitant step closer. “But two creeps showed up, and when they discussed the terms of the loan, there was an unusual stipulation. Let’s just say it was unconventional when it comes to loans. Even off-the-books loans. How am I doing?” I asked smugly, unable to stop myself.

  This woman was most likely sent to spy on my family. She not only used my brother, but she put h
im in danger. And I’d kill anyone who hurt my family. I shook my head and winced at the dark thoughts.

  “Talk. Now,” I snapped when Sara still hadn’t opened that mouth of hers to reveal the bloody truth we were waiting to hear. Or whatever version Luca wanted her to hand over to us.

  My nerves were strung tight, and she had no idea the kind of night I’d already had, so she needed to stop further pissing me off.

  Ethan didn’t intervene in her defense. He just kept refilling his drink.

  Yeah, he was furious, that was for sure.

  She didn’t bother to search his eyes for help, either.

  Burned some feckin’ bridges, did ya?

  “Were you spying on me?” Sara’s indignant question initially took me by surprise. And didn’t she have some damn nerve asking that?

  I pushed away from the desk and cocked my head, moving like a lion, the one inked on my body. Prey, meet your predator. That was me right now. I was sick of Luca and his games. Sick of The Alliance.

  “Okay, you don’t need to answer that.” She held up a hand when I edged within two quick strides of her.

  I planted my feet, focusing on this woman Ethan claimed to be in love with, and I couldn’t believe I’d ever slept with her. She was too soft for me. Too weak. Nothing like the strong woman who made me insane, but that I still didn’t want to live without.

  “Yes to everything you said,” Sara admitted. “No names from the men. One was French because he called me ma chérie.”

  Yeah, that was Luca, for sure.

  “They said they’d hurt me if I told anyone the details of our conversation.” Sara chewed on her lip.

  Ethan didn’t react to her sloped shoulders or soft tone. He just kept tossing back shots of whiskey like his entire world was crumbling before his eyes.

  “Be afraid of me, Sara.” I leaned in closer, showing my teeth like the wolf I felt like now. Lion. Wolf. Didn’t matter to me. They both had a strong bite. “Fear me.” I pointed to my chest. “Not them.”

  “Sara, just tell him. I’m losing my patience,” Ethan snapped, drawing both of our eyes his way. “Tell him how they asked you to keep dating me. To make me fall in love with you. Spend the holidays with me.” He swiped a drop of whiskey from his bottom lip.

  This wasn’t terribly shocking. I needed to hear more.

  “The attack at her store. It was a setup. A damsel-in-distress thing, isn’t that what you called it, babe?” Ethan snickered, anger flaring his nostrils. “To see how far I’d go for you. Pay off some bullshite debt of yours.” Ethan flung the glass against the wall, but the crystal was too strong to break. Instead, it bounced to the floor, and I followed the gold liquid streak down the wallpaper.

  “The German guy. You knew he was coming.” It wasn’t a question. It was confirmation we’d been right. “You were expecting my brother to show, but I came instead and killed him.”

  “He’s dead?” Sara backed up a step, and I turned to Ethan to gauge his surprise, but his eyes had a glazed-over look from all the shots.

  “Why’d he instruct you to tell me Krause gave you the loan?” That part still didn’t make sense. Why would Luca want us suspicious of Sara? Wouldn’t he worry we’d dig deeper and discover his involvement?

  “I-I wasn’t supposed to tell you that story. But I got nervous when I found out you knew Bridgette’s name, and I just went with it, which is why I asked you not to say anything to her in Scotland. I was worried they’d kill me if they knew I told you who really gave me the money. I was supposed to lie and say it was some New York criminal married to a model I’d met at a fashion show.” Her eyes were puffy from crying. “You weren’t supposed to be there that night at my store, though. Just Ethan.” She sniffled, then said quietly, “And it would have been easier to lie to him than you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Ethan hissed in anger, burned by this woman again.

  Sara looked back at me, ignoring my brother. “Bridgette said she could help me out with a loan. Make my dreams come true. I could expand and have stores in every major city. I-I didn’t expect two thugs to show up to explain the strings attached to the money.”

  “Those strings, they involved my family,” I said bitterly, still not sure if I could trust whatever she had to say.

  “I refused. Ethan and I had only been dating for a few weeks, and it wasn’t serious. But they expected me to turn a notorious playboy into a committed man. They said I needed to spend the holidays with him in Dublin.”

  This part, I did believe. “They threatened you?”

  She nodded meekly. No backbone at all.

  “But that’s all they said I had to do at the time. Well, not until they showed up again at an event in Milan three weeks ago.” Maybe she was telling us the truth. She got in over her head and was looking for a way out. “They said I needed to play the damsel in distress. Beg you for help and protection.”

  “Why?” I hissed through my teeth.

  “They knew you’d fall for it, I guess. Put me in Sebastian’s hotel to keep me safe. Preferably the second penthouse, but that wasn’t a deal breaker. But it’s like they could predict what you’d do since I didn’t even have to ask. There was a backup plan if everything didn’t fall into place, though.”

  I didn’t even want to know the alternative plan. Or any of this, for that matter. I lunged forward, nearly grabbing hold of her. But I didn’t shove her against the wall like I would have if she were a man. “What the feck did you do?” I asked despite how much I didn’t want to hear the answer because I knew in my gut what she was about to say.

  We’d had the place swept for bugs. It couldn’t be possible, but somehow . . .

  “I thought they wanted me to, um, tap your room or something, but no, they wanted me to . . . to get proof you and Emilia were a couple.”

  My skin grew tingly and hot at her words. Not what I expected at all.

  “The Frenchman had me download an app on my mobile. Something he created because when I googled the app, I couldn’t find anything about it. But he said there was a camera in Emilia’s room, and I-I just needed to hit a button on my mobile to start recording footage. The problem was I had to be at the hotel for the signal to pick up, so we only managed to record whenever I was in the hotel.”

  “What?” I asked in astonishment. “How the hell did you get a camera in my room?”

  She held up a defensive hand, eyes wide. “I didn’t. Based on the camera angle, it looks like it’s in the light over your bed. Maybe he wired it there somehow? I didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell me. My job was simply to press a button when I was at the hotel and hope you were screwing each other.”

  Ethan dug his hands into his pocket. “Her mobile. Here.” He typed in the passcode she must have provided and handed it to me with the app open.

  It was official.

  I saw red again.

  A dark crimson.

  And now I really did feel like killing someone.

  “I’m so sorry, Sean. I should never have agreed. But I was scared. You have to help me, though. Please,” she pleaded, and her tears looked real, but for all I knew, she was playing me just like Bridgette had back in Scotland since she’d clearly known I wasn’t my cousin.

  “How could you do this to me? To my brother?” Ethan yelled and turned his back to her, the fighter coming out of him. I could see it in the rigid lines of his body. And before I knew it, he was punching his fist through the wall.

  I pocketed her mobile, unable to check for sex videos on it, or I’d be punching the wall after seeing them. “Damn it, Ethan.” I checked his hand, blood streaking down onto the floor near where the drops of whiskey had pooled. Whiskey and blood. Perfect.

  “I’m sorry. About this morning.” He looked at me with apologetic eyes.

  “This is my fault. The League. They used you to get to me. To us. I should have told you sooner.” I let go of his hand and turned back toward Sara. “When did you send the recordings?”

  “Sent
them to him this morning. And then I told him I was done. No more helping him,” she whispered, regret in the lines of her face.

  Luca saw Emilia naked. Saw her having sex with me. He’d tainted my most memorable moments, and he would pay dearly for that.

  God, the things I was going to do to that man. He’d have me begging to kill him. Emilia would need to adjust our plans so I could murder him myself. No other outcome was acceptable.

  “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” Sara’s eyes crinkled as she observed me. “You really are dangerous, aren’t you?”

  I slanted closer to her, bringing my face near hers. “You have no idea.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Emilia

  I clutched Sara’s mobile in my hand, my body trembling from shock. Cole had locked her in the guest room with Ethan for the time being. She’d probably rather be in jail than alone with Ethan and his anger, but we were all too furious to care about what she wanted.

  I’d been worried about our mistletoe kiss being plastered all over Instagram when Sean and I were at the Dun Laoghaire Christmas Market, and all this time, the real danger had come from behind closed doors—my closed doors.

  My stomach clenched as I watched erotic images of myself, naked and straddling Sean, play out in more than one scene. His hard glutes squeezing as he pounded into me from behind in others. The low light did nothing to disguise who the “actors” were. And the director of my sex tape was Luca Moreau. How fucking insane was this?

  I wanted to punch Sara in the throat, for starters. She must have watched the videos, probably imagining it was her with Sean. I felt violated on a whole new level.

  I had always planned for Luca to die—I didn’t give a damn who his uncle was. But now I would thoroughly enjoy it. Relish in his final gasps for air. I could taste revenge on my tongue. In my fingertips as my free hand curled into a fist at my side.