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Dangerous:Made & Broken (A British Bad Boy Romance)(4)

By:Nora Ash


I'd learned that much from what happened to Isaac.

I took a swig from the beer bottle, suddenly itching for something stronger. "When?"

"Next Saturday." My father got up from the barstool he'd been perched on  without ever taking off his coat. Then again, it had taken him less  than ten minutes from stepping through my doorway to completely and  irrevocably fuck up my life, so why bother getting comfortable, right?

I gritted my teeth to stifle the black rage churning in my gut while he  made his way out of my kitchen and to the front door. When his gloved  hand touched the knob, he paused for a moment and looked at me over his  shoulder, steel in his eyes and his jaw set in a way I recognized all  too well from my youth. My hands clenched as if to brace for a beating,  even though it'd been years since I'd grown too big for that particular  brand of incentive.

"And Blaine …  if you fuck this up, you're going to be sorry."

I stared mutely for several long minutes after he'd left, too stunned to move.         

     



 

I guess it wasn't a huge surprise that it was now my turn to get dragged  to the sacrificial altar for "The Family," but never in a million years  would I have imagined it would be as a fucking groom.

The thought of being tied down and responsible for a bird had always  filled me with cold dread, and the fact that my upcoming marriage was a  sham didn't make me feel any less shackled.

Finally, blessedly, anger drowned out the mixture of emotions coursing  through me, its hot embrace allowing me to break free of the trance-like  state my dear father had left me in.

Whoever the little cunt was, I wasn't about to change my ways. If she  had hopes of taming herself one of Steel's sons, she was in for a nasty  surprise.

I liked to drink, I liked to fight, and I liked to fuck every female  that crossed my path, and if she wanted to be part of the Steel family,  she was going to have to get used to that.

And maybe if I was lucky, she'd get fed up and get this fucking disaster of a marriage annulled.

I grabbed my leather coat and pulled out my phone, calling the twins as I  slammed the front door shut behind me and headed down the stairs.

Time to get shitfaced and find a small-time gang dumb enough to challenge a Steel.







"You look like absolute shit." For a man who'd kept me company during  most of my weeklong bender, Liam's voice was much too cheerful. I sent  him an annoyed glare, which I immediately regretted as the sunlight  caught my eyes and shot a bolt of pure agony directly into my brain.

Even his unruly, ginger hair looked offensively chipper.

"You really should have thought this through," his identical twin,  Louis, chimed in. "How are you going to satisfy your wee Irish lass  tonight when you're so hungover you look like you're about to pass out?"

"Poor girl's in for such a disappointment-if she's desperate enough to  agree to marry you, she undoubtedly needs a good rogering. Heck, she  might even be a virgin! You really should bring your A-game, brother."  Liam grinned.

"You two fuckers better just shut up and thank your lucky star that it's  me here instead of one of you," I growled, though the twins obviously  didn't share my lack of amusement. Of course, while they were standing  by my side as the guests found their seats, I would be the one to swear  sacred vows to a woman I'd never even met before, while they got to  continue on with their lives as they pleased.

"To be fair, it would have been Marcus before either of us," Louis said,  slanting a look at our only other, present brother. "For once, being  the youngest of the bunch paid off."

"Ha, can you imagine them trying to marry some poor girl off to Marcus,  though?" Liam snickered. "Eh, no offense, man." The last part he  mumbled, the perpetual laugh in his voice dying to a cough.

I glanced at Marcus just in time to catch the dark look he sent our way  before once again looking straight ahead as if lost in deep thought.

Most sane criminals in town-and quite a few law enforcers-would make  sure not to get in the way of a Steel, but Marcus had a way of making  people cross the street just by looking at them. Of course, his  reputation as a complete sociopath didn't help matters much.

Even I didn't really know what went on behind his blank expression, but  I'd been to clean up a few of his messes along the way, and knew that he  had some demons, for sure. He didn't just kill-he butchered.

"God, the Clerys are such a bunch of pricks," Louis muttered, and my  attention was drawn to the front row, where a bunch of strangers filed  in across the hall from our own father and stepmother. "Look at those  smug smiles-they really think they hit the jackpot, eh?"

I didn't answer, but despite my blinding headache, I couldn't help but  frown at the older man as he stared up at me like I was a prime cow up  for auction. Undoubtedly the father, as he looked especially pleased  with himself. Yeah, the Clerys obviously thought this marriage was their  way up in the underworld, even if my own father saw it as nothing more  than a means of placation.

My musings were interrupted when organ music abruptly blared through the  church, cutting through my suffering brain like a saw. I winced and  looked up just in time to see the doors at the other end of the aisle  crack open.

"Here we go-time to get hitched, brother."

I didn't know which of the twins spoke, but I didn't turn my head to  find out. My eyes were glued to the double doors and my heart suddenly  decided to work overtime, pounding behind my ribs as if I'd just run a  fucking marathon.

The doors opened fully, and a lone woman in a hideous white dress and a long veil covering her face stepped through.         

     



 

I had a vague notion that it was odd her father wasn't walking her down  the aisle, but my pulse thundering in my ears drowned out the thought  quickly enough. Even my palms were clammy.

Fucking great. I already hated whoever she was for landing me in this  fucked up situation-the fact that just seeing her walk toward me had the  power to damn near bring on a panic attack didn't make me any more of a  fan. I liked being in control, of myself and my surroundings, and right  now, I was neither.

I didn't give a shit if it was unfair-I blamed her.

It wasn't until she was right in front of me that I realized she was  looking down at the floor behind her veil, and how badly her hands were  shaking as she clutched her bouquet.

A nudge to my side from Liam made me step forward to greet her, and it was then that she finally looked up and I saw her face.

My heart gave a violent spasm before it dropped all the way to the bottom of my Italian leather shoes.

I knew her.

And her name wasn't Aignéis Clery. It was Holler. Mira Holler. My fucking shrink.



 *





Chapter 4

Mira



I'd never seen so much emotion on a completely blank face before. While  every single muscle on my husband-to-be's face was still, I could  practically read his mind from the flashes of shock, fear-and finally  anger-that filtered across those stormcloud eyes of his. Yeah, I was  about the last person he wanted to see right now.

Not that that was a surprise-the son of London's biggest crime family  had gone to see a therapist, undoubtedly expecting to never be  confronted with it again, only to now be forced into marrying the very  same woman-possibly the only person in the world who knew that Blaine  Steel had a weakness.

And I …  I was beyond shocked. Not to mention annoyed at myself for not  even bothering to ask who would be waiting for me at the altar. Though  to be fair, I'd spent the week locked up in my own flat with no phone or  computer access, effectively a prisoner. I'd been too terrified to even  think about who I'd be marrying, and neither my father nor my brothers  had bothered to inform me of such an unimportant detail. All that  mattered to them was that they would now be related to the biggest crime  family in the country.

I swallowed thickly as I stared, wide-eyed, up at Blaine. I'd run away  from home the day I turned eighteen so I could escape this exact fate-so  I wouldn't end up married to a man as ruthless and dangerous as the  ones in my own family. Yet here I was, staring into the eyes of a man I  knew without a shadow of a doubt was the living embodiment of every  nightmare I'd ever had. My groom.

One of the redheaded groomsmen demonstratively cleared his throat, which  made both Blaine and I jolt out of what probably looked like a staring  match to the onlookers.

With one final, dark look, Blaine took my arm and turned us toward the  altar, where the priest stood ready to bind us together for all  eternity.

I didn't think it was possible to be any more terrified of my fate than I  already was, but the look Blaine gave me held so much fury and  resentment that the only thing that made me capable of following him the  final few steps to the altar was the fresh wave of adrenaline coursing  in my blood.

He hated me.







The ceremony was a blur, and I have no idea how I made it through the  entire thing without my anxiety making me break down into a sobbing  mess. All I really comprehended through the pomp and circumstance was  the sound of my own pulse drumming unsteadily in my ears.