Only Yours (A McDade Brothers Novel Book 2)

by Scarlett Finn

  Whisper expected some acknowledgement, given they’d gone the whole day without speaking to each other. But he didn’t say a word or even give her a chance to come up with something.

  The oaf grabbed her arm to haul her out of the closet and across the bedroom. He hadn’t even bothered to turn on a light. The only illumination came from the closet and nanny’s room.

  Whisper wasn’t fighting him, but didn’t appreciate being manhandled without so much as a hello. A guy had to earn that right. As a McDade, Zaid was starting from a position a hundred behind the others. The meathead.

  He flung her to the floor in front of the couch at the end of the bed and started to unbuckle his jeans. She’d just risen to her knees and shoved her hair from her face when he pulled his cock out of his pants. Her mouth—which had been open, ready to release a barrage of outrage—clamped shut without uttering a word.

  “Suck it,” he growled.

  All Whisper could do was blink at it, there above her in all its ample glory. “Fuck me,” she breathed out.

  “That comes later. I said suck it.”

  Also by Scarlett Finn

  MCDADE BROTHERS NOVELS

  ALL. ONLY.

  ONLY YOURS

  WRECK & RUIN

  RUIN ME

  RUIN HIM

  GO NOVELS

  GO WITH IT

  GO IT ALONE

  GO ALL OUT

  GO ALL IN

  GO FULL CIRCLE

  EXILE

  HIDE & SEEK

  KISS CHASE

  THE BRANDED SERIES

  BRANDED

  SCARRED

  MARKED

  THE KINDRED SERIES

  RAVEN

  SWALLOW

  CUCKOO

  SWIFT

  FALCON

  FINCH

  THE EXPLICIT SERIES

  EXPLICIT INSTRUCTION

  EXPLICIT DETAIL

  EXPLICIT MEMORY

  RISQUÉ SERIES

  TAKE A RISK

  RISK IT ALL

  GAME OF RISK

  HARROW DUET

  FIGHTING FATE

  FIGHTING BACK

  MISTAKE DUET

  MISTAKE ME NOT

  SLEIGHT MISTAKE

  STANDALONE ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  RELUCTANT SUSPICION

  RESCUED

  STANDALONE CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

  GETTING TRICKY

  HEIR’S AFFAIR

  MAESTRO’S MUSE

  REMEMBER WHEN…

  RIVALS ON AIR

  SWEET SEAS

  THIRTEEN

  XY FACTOR

  Copyright © 2020 Scarlett Finn

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  First published in 2020

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  www.scarlettfinn.com

  CONTENTS

  “Please don’t make me do it, Daddy,” Whisper Doherty begged her father who sat on the other side of his huge desk.

  The piece was an almost-replica of the President’s Resolute Desk. The difference being that the crest of their family was embossed on the front.

  “I didn’t bring you here for a debate,” Cyrus Doherty stated, picking up a pen to begin writing on the page he’d been reading when she came in. “You will marry him on Friday.”

  “But Daddy… he’s a psychopath!”

  Her father didn’t even crook a brow. “By all accounts, yes,” Cyrus said, turning the paper over to write on the back. “Which is exactly why we need him. I won’t allow the Byrne family to overtake us.”

  Three months ago, the ranks of both the Dohertys and the Byrnes had been decimated by a shoot-out at what was supposed to be a peaceful meet. The intention was for the families to discuss territory and the increase of skirmishes between the two sides.

  The conversation never took place.

  Whisper had been at her father’s side when he got the call from her brother during the bloodbath. Listening to the horror almost moved her to tears. Being the only daughter of one of the country’s most notorious crime bosses, she wasn’t squeamish when it came to violence or depravity. She’d grown up seeing it all. Still, hearing cousins fall, her uncles, her brothers… it was stomach churning.

  The Dohertys lost just as many as the Byrnes, which was the only saving grace. Near to a whole generation of both families, and those loyal to them, were gone.

  The initial ordeal only took an hour. Neither side would let the other survivors leave. Their stubbornness, their feud, gave the cops enough time to surround the place and arrest whoever was left.

  Since that fated day, both sides had struggled to maintain their operations. Every wise-guy on the street was in play and enjoyed the two families vying for their loyalty. The Dohertys and Byrnes needed numbers, needed allies, or they’d be picked off and lose what market share they had left.

  Apparently, that was where Zaiden McDade came into the equation.

  The McDades were in the same business as the Dohertys and the Byrnes. They rejected their invitation to the meet, so were the only family unscathed. Now instead of three families jockeying for the top spot, the McDades had leaped to prime position, in terms of numbers on the streets and influence.

  Both the Byrnes and the Dohertys were guilty of trying to poach the McDades’ top guys. Their lack of success wasn’t much of a surprise given the McDades reputation. The only reason Whisper could figure that anyone would be so loyal to such a vicious family was if they were afraid for their lives. And that same vicious family was the one her father was proposing she hand herself over to.

  Slamming a fist to the desk, Whisper lunged over it. “He’ll beat me, Daddy,” she hissed. “He’ll beat me and rape me. Him and all his depraved, sick brothers.”

  Surging to his feet, Cyrus grabbed her wrist, yanking her so far over the desk that she ended up with a knee on the surface. “You will not fuck this up, Whisper! You let the man run his house,” he snarled. “You are a Doherty. You will do what this family tells you to do. You will marry him. You will be his obedient wife!”

  “I won’t,” she spat. “I won’t marry him! How about that?”

  Bowing to get in her face, Cyrus didn’t display anything of the man who’d bounced her on his lap when she was a child. That man called her his precious princess. A lot of years had passed since then; a lot had changed.

  “Then you deserve everything he does to you. They have manpower. I need their manpower. Joining forces with them will put us back on top… You are the price for victory… One I’m happy to pay.”

  Cyrus shoved her away with so much force that she stumbled backwards. If the guest chair hadn’t been there to catch her, she’d have landed on her ass.

  “I am not a bargaining chip.”

  Sinking into his seat, he leaned back, swinging the chair side to side. His laugh warmed the air. “Sweetheart, you’re female… You’re only worth to me is what I can sell you for, who I can sell you to. You’ve been a drain on my resources since the day you were born. It’s time to pay the piper.” The laugh became a kind of disdainful smile. “Do your duty or I’ll slit your throat myself…” Picking up his pen again, he began writing. “Be at the City Clerk’s Office Friday at three… wear white.”

  Shooting to her feet, Whisper wanted t
o argue with him, wanted to point blank refuse… But considering what her life would be after disobeying her father’s orders kept her silent.

  Cyrus would cut her off; she’d have no access to funds. Even if scraping some cash together before fleeing was a possibility, her family couldn’t weather the embarrassment of her bolting against her father’s wishes.

  Whisper and her father were the only members of their immediate family left. Her brothers were gone. Well, she did have an uncle and a pair of cousins, but they’d never been closely involved in the family business. They’d never been trusted enough… necessity was in the process of changing that.

  If she ran, the Dohertys would be decimated. After that, her father would make it his life’s mission to track her down. As soon as he found her, he’d extract his payback in the most agonizing way possible.

  Whisper was a Doherty and had always been loyal to her family. Always. It was in her blood to do what was best for the family.

  The McDades might be despicable, but their hatred for the Dohertys was meager in comparison to their loathing for the Byrnes. Even though the idea of being betrothed to a McDade turned her stomach, she’d sacrifice anything if it meant not letting the Byrnes triumph.

  It was conditioning. She knew it but couldn’t fight it. Whisper, just like the Byrne and McDade children, was taught that their family was superior over the others. The exaggerated stories exchanged among their peers fed the animosity between the trio of families.

  The McDades could sneak in and take over while they had the numbers, but their infrastructure wasn’t as robust. This union, if she didn’t fuck it up, would see a Doherty-McDade alliance that could create a new power monolith at the top of the food chain. They’d be bigger and stronger than ever before. Wasn’t that worth her opening her legs for the scum of the earth?

  Storming out of her father’s echoing townhouse, Whisper missed the sound of her brothers and cousins charging the space. Once the place had been full, alive with the buzz of activity. Now it was quiet. Still.

  They’d cut the number of household staff. Without boots on the ground to pedal product and manage venues, the Doherty finances had taken a hit. Beyond that, with most of their loyal associates either dead or in jail, they just didn’t need to cater to as many people.

  Marrying Zaiden McDade would mean living in the McDade house. Her father would be alone. But only for a while. The Dohertys weren’t done yet. It was up to her to ensure there were no glitches on their return to power… That meant getting hitched to a man she’d been trained to believe was her enemy since before the word even had meaning.

  There was no out. All week the breath of Cyrus’ henchman on the back of Whisper’s neck reminded her of her invisible bonds. Said henchman had stepped in on Thursday when it came time to take her to the City Clerk’s Office to sign for the marriage license.

  She didn’t see Zaiden. The ink of his signature was still wet when the sheet was presented to her. Whisper guessed he was close by, but didn’t really care.

  Once their names were dry, nothing could stop the inevitable.

  So, just as her father commanded, Whisper ended up standing alone at the chapel inside of the City Clerk’s Office Friday at three. Other couples sat around, waiting to be married. Couples who had been there first. In what she could only imagine was deference to the bride and groom’s last names, no one minded stepping aside to give them priority.

  Her father came up next to her. “Mom will be turning in her grave,” Whisper murmured as he took her arm.

  His hand paused on the way to the door handle. “Your mother was a good woman… one who knew her place was under her husband’s command…” Turning a glare on her, Cyrus Doherty didn’t leave any equivocation. “Make him happy, Whisper, and he will do what I tell him when I tell him. The fate of our family rests on you being a dutiful wife. You will do whatever it takes.”

  Whatever it takes. Those words rattled around in her mind while her father opened the door and took her inside. Whisper wasn’t sure what she expected to find in there. Yet, it was a surprise to discover there were only three people present. They stood at the head of the room and none of them were the McDade parents.

  Guessing that the man facing them was the officiant, Whisper took advantage of the opportunity to examine the other two males who stood with their backs to the room. One was shorter than the other. The top of his head only reached the taller one’s shoulder.

  Whisper figured the taller one was Zaiden. Every description of him mentioned his height and his jet black hair. Those locks were a mess, but matched the untucked shirt, scruffy jeans, and the heavy boots on his feet.

  In her boat-neck ivory dress, Whisper’s effort outmatched his, but she wasn’t offended. If anything, it was a relief to learn he wasn’t taking the wedding seriously. Her dress was a nod to her father’s request; she’d avoided actually going with white. If Cyrus hadn’t made the request, she’d likely have shown up in her usual Friday afternoon apparel: yoga pants and a sports bra.

  The shorter guy peeked over his shoulder. As soon as he spied her scrutinizing him and his buddy, his attention sprang back to the front. Being close to a McDade, she wouldn’t have expected him to be skittish. But he was shorter and less toned than she’d have expected too.

  It was difficult to see Zaid’s physique beyond the breadth of his capable shoulders and the vee of his torso to the narrowing of his hips. The shorter guy had love handles above the cinch of his tight belt and she’d seen a little extra weight in his face when he turned. It wasn’t like the guy was overweight. Just an obvious contrast to the man at his side.

  Her examination came to an abrupt end when she and Cyrus reached the front and the officiant started to talk. It wasn’t a long drawn out ceremony; there were no sermons or hymns. It was business only.

  Zaiden didn’t turn to look at her, so she didn’t look at him either. Not that it was easy to be sure what he was doing because, like the guy on his other side, she was no giant. All her peripheral vision picked up was the lack of movement in his body. It didn’t flinch, which suggested he didn’t register her.

  Whisper thought they might get through the whole ceremony without acknowledging each other at all. But her luck wasn’t that good. When the officiant asked Zaiden to recite his vows, the deep, growling voice that came from him filled her with chills that forced her body to react. Her baser instincts responded to him anyway.

  Whisper couldn’t remember the last time anything had made her afraid. Not that she was afraid. In fact, it was sort of impressive how the sinister tone of his drawling voice made every word sound like a threat rather than a promise.

  He carried on just like that, saying whatever he had to without changing his tone or looking at her. Whisper didn’t mind returning the latter favor on the occasions she was required to speak. She said only what was required and nothing else. Whatever impression that made on her groom, she couldn’t care less.

  The officiant produced rings. He placed them on the sheet in his hand like maybe he intended to say or do something with them. Zaiden didn’t give him the chance. He grabbed the larger ring and shoved it onto his own finger, so she did the same with the smaller one. Apparently, they didn’t have to say anything about that, which suited her fine. It was done. That was it.

  Sweating and pale, the officiant was nervous. Somehow, it had taken Whisper the whole ceremony to notice. “You can kiss the bride,” he said, his voice vibrating.

  His hands were trembling, shaking the paper in his pale fingers. Whisper smiled. The man was terrified. It shouldn’t really be a surprise. The guy at her side, her groom, was more than twice the size of the officiant, and her father was somewhere behind them.

  He’d probably never presided over a marriage with such potential to get him killed. Just one wrong word could be enough for either her father or her groom to order the officiant’s family murdered… or at the very least maimed.

  “We done?” Zaiden asked without kissing her,
sounding unimpressed.

  Whisper wasn’t impressed either and had no desire to kiss him. The smart officiant wasn’t going to push the issue. He backed away to show the paperwork on the table behind him.

  “You… you both have to sign the—”

  “Right,” Zaiden said.

  Taking her by surprise, Zaiden grabbed her upper arm and hauled her forward, throwing her in the direction of the table. The force gave Whisper no choice but to run the way he’d tossed her. With that momentum, her body kept going until she was bent over the hard surface, clutching the edge.

  Whisper pushed up onto her palms. “Asshole,” she muttered, snatching the pen from the officiant to scribble down her details. “What’s that?”

  Jabbing the pen toward the blank line at the end of her section, she looked at the officiant for an explanation.

  Twisting around, he dipped his attention to where she was indicating. “Oh, that’s a new feature. It allows couples to record their own words; like a sentimental phrase that means something to them or a tender wish for the future.”

  “Oh,” she said, tilting her head to begin writing, reading her words as she recorded them for posterity. “Fuck you, asshole… good luck sucking your own cock.”

  Pleased with her addition, Whisper smiled at the officiant and raised her chin, pushing her shoulders back as she did. Ignoring the shock on his face was easy. Shocking people was a regular occurrence for her. Her sentiment probably didn’t match what other people wrote on their marriage certificates, but she was proud of it.

  “Ma’am, I—”

  “You married, sir?” she asked, turning on her sultry side and drawing the pen to her lips. Swaying her hips, Whisper twisted her body toward his, ready to have some fun. Raising her arm up, she locked her elbow, and let her arm sink down to rest straight on his shoulder. “You must get tired of working so long… and hard…”