Shattered Hearts (Irish Kings #1)

4. Riley

Chapter 4

Riley

When Finn lifted my veil, I didn’t expect him to look so obviously like he was about to shit a chicken .

Did no one think to tell the groom of his bride’s absence? From the shock on his face, I have to say no. Going off the astonishment, I deduce that he also realizes I’m the wrong twin, but how?

The differences between Harper and me are so subtle that even our cousins often get us confused. My face is a little more angular, and I don’t smile nearly as much as she does.

Has Finn spent enough time with my sister to know I’m not her?

My mouth goes dry. I…wasn’t expecting him to be so damn gorgeous. Like he fell straight out of a menswear catalogue and not the mafia.

Sweet Jesus.

Of course Finn would look amazing in a tux. Is there a hot guy who wouldn’t? But this…just isn’t fair. The tux he’s wearing is obviously custom, the fit so perfect it’s almost like someone spray-painted the tux onto his naked body. Like if I reached out and touched his chest, I’d smudge the paint.

Desire rocks through me so hard, I wish I were dreaming. If this were all a dream, I could tackle him right here, rip his tux off with my teeth, and lick him up and down like a popsicle.

But this shitshow is my real life. And the reality is, even though the groom rejected me years ago and picked my sister, it’s my job to ensure we finish this wedding strong, or everyone in here will see straight through the facade.

My heart pumps faster as Finn closes the little space between us. He slips a hand around the back of my neck as he leans in.

Shit. He’s going to kiss me. He’s actually going to?—

“In about five minutes,” his lips brush the shell of my ear, “you owe me the fucking explanation of a lifetime, Riley Brennan.”

Then his mouth smashes into mine.

For half a second, I’m too shell-shocked to do anything. Then my body catches up with reality, and my lips part.

Heat pools in my core, and I don’t think. I just react.

My eyes drift shut as I slide my hands up Finn’s sculpted biceps. With his left hand around my back, he pulls me flush against his hard chest, deepening the kiss.

He tastes like whiskey and sin and everything I shouldn’t want. But damn, do I want this man.

Someone whistles in the audience, and the minister clears his throat.

My body flushes hot, and my eyes fly open as I pull away.

The congregation’s applause suggests that this finale was worth waiting for.

Why didn’t I stop to think for one second that pretending to be my sister, even for a few hours, would be as pleasant as open-heart surgery with no anesthesia?

Covering my heated face with Harper’s bouquet, I snatch Finn’s hand in mine and launch down the stairs.

On the last step, my ankle twists in my sister’s four-inch Jimmy Choos, and I pitch forward.

Finn tightens his grip on my hand, steadying me before I faceplant. I don’t have time to thank him before he bolts like a bat out of hell, half dragging me back up the aisle while joyful guests shower us with flower petals.

We fly right through the sanctuary doors, through the echoey atrium, and out of the cathedral into the midday light, both of us nearly diving into the backseat of the waiting limousine parked at the curb. I wrestle Harper’s giant train inside, and Finn yanks the door closed.

Beyond the darkened limo glass, wedding guests pour out of the church applauding and waving. The limo starts moving, and with every mile we put between us and the cathedral, more oxygen seems to fill the backseat.

Finn hasn’t said a word yet, and I’m terrified to break the silence.

I drop Harper’s bouquet and tear off her lace gloves. I’m so hot beneath this mile-long veil, I do everything short of ripping out my hair to get the thing off.

As soon as I’ve done everything I can to be comfortable, my eyes glide over to Finn, who sits adjacent to me while doing the same thing. Veins in his fist bulge as he yanks off his bow tie, tearing the silk with angry fingers. Next, he claws at his torso until he’s freed himself from that too-tight albeit sexy as hell tuxedo jacket.

Finally, he undoes the top buttons of his tuxedo shirt, revealing the cliffs of his collarbones beneath his taut jaw.

He’s pissed.

Why does an angry Finn have to be so hot?

I don’t realize my heart is galloping in my chest until Finn rolls his head around. While his eyes aren’t on me, I take the opportunity to touch my lips. No drool. At least I don’t have to add drooling over my sister’s fiancé post kissing him to the list of this already disaster of a day.

Up close, his allure overwhelms me. I sense his body heat from all the way over here. The robust, masculine, and slightly sweet bonfire-like musk of his skin creeps into my nose.

I can still feel the imprint of his rough hand in mine as we sprinted out of the church like we were running for our lives. My brain starts to imagine the feel of his hands all over me, until I shut the thought down with all the strength I have.

“Hey.”

I jump at his low, suspicious rumble. His gaze was so vacant back there at the altar, and now, his brown eyes have become laser beams locking on my face, ready to melt my brain.

“Start talking.”

My mouth falls open without my consent, obeying him like a little lap dog.

Finn interrupts me almost as soon as I begin. “Harper’s missing ? What the hell happened? And when was someone going to clue me in?”

“I don’t know.” I exhale in an attempt to clear my frazzled head. “This morning, my father called me to the church and told me I needed to fill in for her. I thought someone would have told you all this before the ceremony.”

He shoots me an irritated, obviously no one enlightened me glare that makes my hackles rise. “Someone took her?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. She left a note that said I’m sorry .”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Someone could have forced her to write that. Or maybe she got cold feet.” The edge in his voice broadcasts his disappointment to me loud and clear, stabbing a few extra needles into my pin cushion of a heart.

Of course he’s disappointed. He expected to kick off his happily married life to my sister and instead got stuck with me.

And he doesn’t want me. He made that perfectly clear three years ago. There’s no reason for the knowledge to still sting.

“Why don’t you know if she ran or not?” He growls. Actually growls. “You’re twins.”

“We share a birthday, not a brain.”

Asshole.

Why’s he getting upset with me? I didn’t leave him at the altar.

His eyes flash up to mine. “This is serious.”

“Gee, you think?” I snap back.

He scowls, the muscles in his hands and arms pulsing, like he’s itching to strangle someone, and I’ll do just fine.

Affronted disbelief swells inside me. This jackass is the guy I crushed on all through high school and college?

When his voice drops an octave, fear crowds my disbelief. “Tread lightly. I’m really not in the mood today.”

Is he threatening me? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t be such a smartass.”

I match Finn’s scowl with one of my own. “Look, I don’t want to be here with you any more than you want to be with me.”

“You sure about that?”

Disbelief laces his words as he stares at my mouth, clearly hinting at my poor judgement from three years ago.

My jaw falls open. He did not just go there. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I hiss.

A vein in his forehead twitches. “Just explain this to me so I understand.”

I want to scream. “I’ve told you everything.”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “Impossible. That can’t be everything.”

“Well,” I shrug, “believe it or not, it is.”

“What else do you know?”

Forget screaming. Now I’m about one stupid question away from kneeing him in the nuts. “About what? Life? Liberty? The pursuit of happiness? I already told you everything I?—”

He glowers at me so hard I think he’ll leave a mark. I rear back in my seat on instinct, heart flitting in my chest.

“ Stop lying to me .”

I snap my mouth shut.

“You expect me to believe that you have no idea why your sister did this or where she might’ve gone? You know her better than anyone.”

I don’t know why his words sear my skin.

Oh, wait. Yes, I do.

It’s because I know the intensity behind these accusations stems from the fire he has for my sister. Meanwhile, his disdain for me is obvious.

A tidal wave of imposter syndrome crashes over me. Of course he’s angry. I’m impersonating the woman he loves. He’s worried about her.

Even though their marriage was arranged, how could he not fall for Harper? She’s perfect.

Today was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter in his life. Instead, he’s stuck here with me.

This day and everything about it can take a flying leap off a tall cliff.

A tear slips down my cheek. Then another.

I stare at the floorboard, feeling his eyes bore into the side of my head as tears continue dampening my face. When I finally recover the power of speech, my voice is flat.

“Harper and I aren’t close anymore.” I force the words out. “But you’re right. I probably know her better than anyone, so believe me when I tell you I have no idea what’s going on. She’s been fantasizing about her wedding day since we were five. I can’t think of a single thing that would keep her from walking down the aisle with…”

The man she loves.

I swallow those last four words down since they’re too hard to say. Does she love him? I don’t want to know.

Maybe my tears convince him, or maybe it’s the utter defeat in my tone, but his features soften. He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Sorry. I’m an asshole.”

He leans back and slices his razor-sharp gaze out the window. This marks the end of his interrogation, plunging us both into an uncomfortable silence.

Though I try to compose myself, sitting this close to him knocks loose memory after memory, things I haven’t thought about in years. It’s like all the tiny reasons I used to be crazy about him rain down from the sky.

My mind roams back to those few weeks before Finn got married the first time.

He was always a serious kind of guy, but when I was younger, I could count on him to spare a smile or kind word for me whenever we crossed paths at the Gallagher estate. I remember telling him a joke once and reveling in the sound of his husky laugh.

As a scrawny teenager, my starry-eyed infatuation was probably hard for him to miss, but he never poked fun at me or made me feel foolish.

When he and his first wife got engaged, he smiled a lot more though. His eyes lit up, like sunshine reaching through water.

Despite my crushed teenage heart, I was grateful Finn found happiness with someone. Someone who lit him up inside and out, the way I wished I could. After many pathetic, tearful nights, I put my infatuation and any associated dreams to bed.

By the time I heard the news of his wife’s death, I was dating my ex.

I remember my shock when I first saw him after the tragedy. The darkness…the debilitating grief hanging over him gutted me. With his wife’s death, the light inside him snuffed out, and there was nothing I could do. Finn and I weren’t part of each others’ lives, separated by our ages and disparate positions within the Gallagher family.

And even though we’re currently together in a limousine, nothing has changed.

Except that, in addition to his lack of interest in me, I also have to contend with the knowledge that, after going through such horrible heartbreak, the person Finn decided could make him happy for the rest of his days is the same girl who’s bested me my entire life.

Harper wins, even when she’s not here to compete.

I’m just a knock-off wearing my sister’s dress.

“I’ll talk to my dad and see if we can make some quiet inquiries and put a few key people on alert. I’m concerned. Her behavior is out of character.”

“Agreed.”

Finn remains immersed in his thoughts for the rest of the ride. Our limo traverses Manhattan streets, transporting us to the Michaelson, a special events venue on the Upper East Side that was a jazz club once upon a time. Harper’s dreamed of having her wedding reception at this place since high school. The building fell out of a storybook.

What a shame she’s going to miss it.

The limousine bobbles to a stop at a special entrance to the venue. My father stands on the curb, ready to receive us.

He wrenches open the door and raises an eyebrow at the discarded wedding clothes strewn on the limousine floor. Maybe in some distorted way, we resemble newlyweds who couldn’t wait and keep their hands to themselves until the honeymoon.

The painful jokes keep coming.

“Get inside.” A muscle works in my father’s jaw. “I need to speak to both of you.”

In a back room, away from an elegantly decorated reception hall where wedding guests have begun to arrive, my father “levels” with us. Meaning he hasn’t heard anything about Harper’s whereabouts, and per Shane’s orders, Finn and I are to keep our mouths shut about my identity, even to Cian, Rory, and Darren. What’s going to happen after tonight and how Finn’s going to tell his friends he lied to them is beyond me.

I just have to survive this farce a little bit longer.

Finn and my father leave the room so I can get changed, and anxiety sweeps over me.

“I hate this.” The words slip out without warning, like the smallest, most innocent part of myself has borrowed my mouth to voice the pain I’ve been ignoring all day.

In the privacy of this suite, I just let go. The tears waterfall from my eyes. My shoulders jerk as sobs rip out of my chest. I didn’t realize how much I dreaded doing this until right now. How deep can I plunge a knife into my own heart?

Hiding under a veil and stumbling through the I-Dos was child’s play compared to this.

I can’t take this. Letting my father manipulate and use me again.

For one minute, for one hour or four…it doesn’t matter.

Now I’m hyperventilating, my mind sliding back to that awful moment when I found out he sold me… sold me . Like a slave. Like a piece of property he had no use for. Traded me for money, for the wealth and expansion of the criminal enterprise he serves.

I became an object to him the second I was born. Whether I did everything in my power to please him, whether I estranged myself from him and the rest of his world, his regard for me would never change.

No doubt he’s somewhere in this fancy place already thinking of new ways to use me now that I’ve put myself back under his thumb.

I want to run away from here, get as far from these horrible people as fast as humanly possible. But I won’t get very far in these atrocious, strappy heels. And without my phone, keys, and wallet? I could hail a taxi, but I couldn’t pay the cabbie. I could get all the way home, but I wouldn’t be able to get into my apartment.

I could go to the Zhangs’ and ask for a spare key, but if they see me in this dress? Oh, god. If I thought Finn interrogating me in that limo was bad…the combined force of Jodi, Henry, and Ann asking me a million and one questions would be more than I could handle.

My only other option is to stay here, paste a Harper-worthy smile on my face, and go through with a wedding reception.

I’ll have to talk to people. Me, the anxious wallflower who’s never been good in these kinds of situations. Worse, I’ll have to pretend I’m Harper.

My sister is the bubbliest person I know. On her wedding day, her bubbly setting would be dialed up to an eleven.

Meanwhile, I’ve never been bubbly a single time in all my life.

Just a few more hours. Then you’re done with this. Forever.

In the process of downing half a bottle of champagne while touching up my tear-mangled eye makeup, I cobble together what little courage remains after the most grueling morning of my adult life. The intermission is over, and Act Two is about to begin.