Page 212
My gaze drops to my plate where my venison sits untouched, the gravy cooling around the edges. Father's is nearly gone. Someone has refilled Mother's wine without me noticing, and the side plates have disappeared from the table altogether.
Christ.
I push the chair back and stand, tossing the napkin onto the table. “You know your daughter is at Black Heath stud?”
“That’s not my problem anymore,” he says. “Your sister is a traitor.”
“If anything happens to her—” I say over my shoulder, heading for the door. “Or Sera––I swear to fuck––I’ll kill you with my bare fucking hands, old man.”
“Fionn,” his stone-cold voice slips over my shoulder. “Lorcan won’t be alone.”
The words stop me mid stride, but I refuse to look back at him.
“I imagine the Crowe’s butcher will have reached Black Heath Stud by now.”
Everything finally clicks into place, and the ticking of the grandfather clock grows louder as everything else falls away.
For one pathetic hour I'd believed him.
I'd sat across from him talking business, chasing the same approval I'd wanted since I was a boy.
He'd known exactly what I needed to hear.
And he'd used every fucking second of it against me while he sent a war to Black Heath Stud.
“You’re a fucking sick bastard.”
“And you're not worthy of the Harrington name,” my father calls after me.
But I don’t grant him a reply.
I wrench the front door open so hard it slams against the stone wall, and the doorman rushes up behind me.
Rain lashes across the drive as I sprint toward the Range Rover, open the boot, grab my gun, and leave the balaclava behind. Then I turn away and head for the helipad, my shoes clipping on the wet tarmac.
The helicopter sits dark against the night, its blades motionless beneath the floodlights.
"Get the pilot," I bark at the nearest guard without breaking stride. "Now."
I drag my phone from my pocket and call Sera. The ringtone pulses in my ear while I keep running.
When she doesn't answer, I end the call before it reaches voicemail and try again.
“Come on, Sera,” I mutter. “Pick up.”
The second call rings out too, and my fingers grip around the phone.
Reaching the chopper, I slide the door open and climb in, then call Keira.
She answers before the first ring has even finished.
"Fionn..." she whispers.
A crash explodes somewhere beyond her. She sucks in a sharp breath. Then comes the unmistakable crack of gunfire.
"Where are you?"
“The Tallons are under attack.”
