Destined

Chapter Twenty-One

Elena

"Hey, Elena." Liam greeted me when I walked into the kitchen.

"Liam. Oisín told me you'd be here already." I smiled as I walked past him to get to the coffee machine. "Coffee?" I asked, and he lifted his glass cup, which was visibly filled with Whiskey. 

These Irish men and their Whiskey. 

"Of course, why do I bother?"

He laughed and took a sip. "Is Aofie still with her tutor?"

"She finishes in a bit, but then she has horse-riding lessons."

He cocked a brow, amused. "That's new."

I nodded. "Yeah, she asked her dad if he could get her a horse the other night. So, of course, Oisín bought her a pony the next second and said he knew a guy who could teach her. So, she'll be busy today and every other day with her new riding lessons."

"Good for her." He cheered. "Where is my cousin?"

"He should be coming down any minute. He's getting dressed. So where are you two off to today?" I asked, and he set his cup down and twirled it on the counter.

"Just work. You know. Business stuff." He mumbled, barely meeting my eyes.

I bit the urge to laugh at his apprehensiveness but admired his loyalty to my husband.

"Liam, you don't have to be all jittery about it. He told me he was heading out to his clubs and whatever other establishments he owns to check on everything. It's fine."

He let out a loud sigh of relief. "That's good. Yeah, we have a long day ahead of us, but we only head out to the strip clubs when we have to-"

"Strip clubs?" I cut him off, the word strip ripping through my ears like knives.

"Shit," Liam swore, his face paling.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter. "How many strip clubs does he check on?"

"I don't think I should answer that." Liam stammered fearfully.

He should be afraid. He should be very afraid of what I would do to his precious lying bastard of a cousin.

"Hey, ready to go." Oisín chose this moment to walk into the kitchen.

There he was. The fucking liar himself.

He smiled when he saw me and came to kiss me, but I moved my face. No way he thinks he's going to kiss me right now.

"You didn't say anything about strip clubs." I confronted him.

He narrowed his eyes at Liam, who shrunk in his seat. "I said, clubs. I assumed you knew."

I stood firm in my stance as I glared at him. But I was not backing down.

"You assumed wrong."

He gave me a look that almost resembled surprise. Like he didn't expect me to make such a big deal. That only fueled my anger.

"It's not a big deal. I own a few." He said calmly.

This motherfucker. "It is a big fucking deal," I snapped. "I bet you do own a few. I bet they all would love to sleep with the owner."

"What? What the fuck did he tell you?" In response, he pointed to Liam, who ran his hands over his face in frustration.

My eyes went wide at his words. So he did sleep with the dancers. His reaction confirmed my suspicions. Rage like nothing I've ever felt before wrapped around me like rope, tightening, constricting, and I exploded, ripping through it as I swore a line in Italian.