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“Emily, you need to speak to both of them. Liam will need to decide if he’s going to follow orders or stake his claim. Your father needs to know that your heart belongs to another.”
“I’ve sent Liam a message and told him I needed to speak with him. And Da won’t listen. He simply tells me that Ryan is a good man and will take care of me.”
I swipe at the tears that stream down my face.
“Ohaingeal, stand up to him. Put your foot down and tell him that you will not marry. Demand his attention. Make him listen.”
“I’m not like you, ma. I can’t just walk into a room and command men. I don’t know how to without feeling like I’m going to throw up everywhere.” I swing my free arm out in slight annoyance.
“Unless you stand up to your father about this, he will not yield.” Her voice is stern.
A soft knock interrupts my response.
“I need to call you back.” I hang up before she has a chance to answer.
Quickly, I clear my cheeks of the tears that have stained them and walk to the door.
Liam steps inside my room when I open it. I throw myself into his arms and begin to sob.
“What’s goin’ on?” He asks, his voice full of concern.
“My da is announcing my engagement to Ryan in a month and he’s sending me to live in the penthouse.”
His face doesn’t show any hint of surprise and I pull away from him.
“You knew?” I whisper.
His eyes bounce between mine for a moment and then he nods.
“You knew and you didn’t do anything? You didn’t tell me? Did you even fight for me?”
He steps closer and I step back.
“I just found out, Em. I was on my way to speak to your da when I got your message.”
He takes another step, and this time, I don’t pull away. His arms wrap around me, and my cheek presses against his tee.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
He pulls back and cups my face. His callused thumbs brush against my skin.
“I’m stakin’ my claim.” He says before his lips capture mine.
“Come in.” Conor’s muffled voice sounds from the other side of his study’s door. Turning the knob, I push it open and step inside.
Conor sits behind his desk with a cigar in his mouth. His blue eyes assess me from head to toe.
“I wondered when you’d muster up the balls to speak to me.”
“Sir?”
His smile is anything but friendly. He takes a long drag of his cigar before blowing the smoke upward. His eyes never straying from mine.
“I know about you and Emily.” His face darkens.
“Sir, I love her.” I raise my chin and straighten my spine.
He slams his hand against the surface of his desk when he stands.
