Chapter 15 Back in my seat, I close my eyes and look away because I need a minute. This is hard. I still haven't gotten used to the emotions he stirs in me, how sharp and sudden they are, how they demand space I don't have to give. Is this about me or his need to win? He dared come to my home, my private, sacred space, and took me from my family. Took me from the people I love more than anything in this world... without any communication with me. And yeah, I know he was in jail and that it was impossible for him to reach out. I get it. It makes sense. It was too risky. But knowing that doesn't erase the ache. It doesn't soften the sharp edge of being left behind. I can't help but feel like he abandoned me when I needed him most. After everything I'd survived... he vanished. Just disappeared. My heart hasn't caught up. The impressions he left behind, they've been wearing on me for a while now. And now he's sitting here, giving me this speech about being the head of the house and his rules and the way it's going to be. It's not exactly strange, not completely out of the ordinary, and it's not unacceptable. But still. It stings. He finally meets my gaze, and I turn my face, shielding my chest with my arm like I'm trying to keep something vital from spilling out. "Do you think giving me everything I want will make me fall for you? Make me melt?" I ask in a sharp whisper. "I'm not just going to Ireland. I'm being taken there. After all this time. After everything." I exhale hard. "And I did it because... because you say I'm yours." I pause, searching for the words. "You say that, and yet..." I shake my head, pulling back into myself like I'm retreating into a bunker. We are on a plane that is taking us back to Ireland. And a whole new life. What about the holidays? What about seeing them again? My birthday? I swipe angrily at the tears gathering in my eyes, hating how they betray me. "You can't hold onto your feelings like this and not tell me anything," he says, gentle but firm. "I can't help if I don't know." And I don't want him to know. Not really. Not all of it. So I stay stubborn, resolute. Like if I pretend hard enough, he won't see through me. But he does. "It had to be this way," he says, quiet again. "You're The Undertaker, Seamus," I whisper, barely audible. His brows pinch together. "Why is that a problem?" "Don't you know what you've done?" I look away. "Do I even really want to know?" I've heard the rumors. I've seen shadows of the truth. I've witnessed things with my own eyes, my own hands. But do I really know what my brothers have done? That's different, I reason stubbornly. That's my family. I never had control over them. But this? Did I ever have control over this? "We've got a long flight ahead of us, love," he says gently. "What can I get you to eat?" "I'm not hungry anymore," I say, and even I hear the petulance in my tone. "You need to eat something, darling," he says softly, almost like he's speaking to a wounded thing. And it guts me. How can this man be the same one wrapped up in all those rumors? "What else are you hiding, Seamus?" I ask, almost pleading. "Tell me the truth. Please. Now that we're married." My voice catches on the word. "Now that we're married, I want to know everything." "Aye," he says. "Now that we are, there's nothing I'll keep from you. Not a single thing, lass. Do you understand?" "What, nothing?" I ask, a little shaken. There are things even Rafail wouldn't tell me. "Nothing," he repeats. "Ask me anything." "All right... You told me you have four brothers and sisters. Is that true?" "Aye," he answers without hesitation. I blink. Nod. Of course. That tracks. Families like his, like mine, tend to be big. There's strength in numbers. Stability. Legacy. "And you're the oldest?" "Aye," he says, nodding. "Who else is in your family?" "Well," he says, "me da, Keenan... You'll meet him, eventually." He says that casually, not pressing. "Not right away," he adds, almost apologetic. "Because I shouldn't be bringing you home." "Okay," I say softly, trying not to let the sting show. "Is he not going to want to meet me?" "No, no, not at all." He shakes his head, quick to reassure. "Just... not yet." How lovely. I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. My lips press together, and I lift my hand to my mouth, an old habit. He watches me with a softer expression, eyes lighting up as he switches gears. "And my ma. Her name is Caitlin. You'll love her. Everybody does." "Oh?" I manage a small smile. "What can you tell me about her?" "She lived a wild sort of life before she ever married me da," he says, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "She was a lighthouse keeper's daughter. Dad kept her away from the rest of the world, bit of a recluse, that one." There's something magnetic about Seamus when he speaks like this. Now that we're near each other again, even under such strange, high-stakes, damn near impossible circumstances, I just want to listen. Let him ramble. Let him fill the space between us with words and warmth. I love the way his eyes dance when he's lost in memory. The way his hands move with the story. That Irish lilt, gentle, rhythmic, so full of emotion, especially when he talks about his family. "But Seamus..." I say quietly, looking at him. "You know I... I love mine too." "I know, little lass." He reaches for me then, his voice thick with understanding. "I know ye do." "And I promise," he continues, "it won't always be like this, yeah? It's just... for now, it's what's safest. You understand?" I nod, turning to the window again, not trusting myself to speak. "Who else?" I ask after a moment. "Me da's cousin Megan, she's married to a lad named Carson," he says, ticking names off in his head. "Then there's me da's older brother, Cormac. Bit tough around the edges, but heart of gold. And me uncle Nolan, married to a lass called Shana." He pauses. "Then there are others, men in the clan. Some older, some young and rough, some seasoned. All types. We've got a much bigger, more established clan than yours, y'know." "I gathered that," I reply, raising an eyebrow. Is he teasing my family? "We've been around a long time," he says, not unkindly. "When me da, Keenan McCarthy, took over, he was second in line. First in line was Seamus McCarthy. I was named after him, you see." "I see," I murmur. "So your ties run deep. Real alliances. Real enemies." We talk for a while, and soon, the plane is landing. A car rolls to a slow crawl outside, and he glances at it. "Let's get you home," he says, but the words fall flat. They sound hollow in my ears. He can take me back to Dublin. He can take me to that house we're meant to share. But that doesn't make it home. No. That place isn't home. It won't ever be home. A Fated Encounter movie summary talks about Emma Brown who is forced by her father Henry to take her sister Bella's place and marry Tommy Anderson to save her business. Unlike the rumor Tommy turns ou...