Chapter 19 Cormac's Move
Alessia’s eyes opened slowly. Morning light filtered through the curtains, soft enough not to hurt, yet insistent enough to drag her from sleep.
Liam was still asleep in the chair, his hand still wrapped loosely around her wrist.
She should wake him. Should tell him to go to his own bed, to sleep properly, to get rest.
But she didn’t.
For just a few more minutes, she let herself exist in this fragile, quiet space where they weren’t enemies. Where they were just two people who had survived something terrible together.
Then Liam stirred.
His eyes blinked open, unfocused at first, then sharpening as recognition settled in. He looked down at their joined hands, then up at her face.
“You’re awake,” he said, voice rough, heavy with sleep.
“So are you.”
He released her wrist immediately, sitting up with a groan as his body protested the night spent in an uncomfortable chair.
“How do you feel?” His tone was all business now, but there was a taut edge to it, a tension beneath the surface.
“Better. The room’s not spinning.”
“Good.” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’ll get you breakfast. You need to keep eating.”
“Liam—”
“Don’t argue. Doctor’s orders.”
“You’re not a doctor.”
“Close enough.” He moved toward the door, then paused. “And Alessia? Don’t try to get up on your own. You’re still recovering.”
He left before she could respond.
Alessia lay there, processing the night. The way he had stayed. The way he’d held her hand.
What does it mean?
She didn’t know. And part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
An hour later, Alessia had managed a shower—with Liam stationed outside the bathroom “just in case”—and had changed into clean clothes. She was forcing down scrambled eggs on the couch when the doorbell rang.
Liam, also showered and dressed, went to the security screen. His body went rigid.
“What is it?” Alessia asked.
“Cormac.” The name sounded like a curse.
“Your uncle?”
“Unfortunately.” Liam’s jaw tightened. “Stay here. I’ll handle this.”
“We’re supposed to be a united front, remember?”
He glanced at her, torn. “You’re injured.”
“I can sit on a couch and look intimidating. Let me do my job.”
He considered, then nodded. “Fine. But if he crosses a line—”
“Then we handle it together.”
Liam moved to the door and opened it.
Cormac O’Sullivan entered, stride easy, confident, like he owned the place. Tall, broad-shouldered, cold blue eyes calculating, just like Liam’s but sharper, crueler.
“Nephew,” Cormac greeted, mockery coating every syllable. “I heard you had some trouble yesterday.”
“Word travels fast,” Liam said evenly.
“It does when bodies start piling up.” Cormac’s gaze swept the penthouse, landing on Alessia. “And you survived. How fortunate.”
Alessia met him coolly. “Mr. O’Sullivan.”
“Mrs. O’Sullivan,” he replied, tone dripping disdain. “Though I suppose that’s debatable now, isn’t it?”
Liam stepped between them. “What do you want, Cormac?”
“To talk sense into you.” Cormac moved toward the bar, pouring whiskey without asking. “This alliance is failing. Yesterday proved it. Someone wants you both dead. The marriage hasn’t brought peace—it’s weakened both families.”
“The marriage is barely a month old,” Liam countered. “You can’t judge its success that quickly.”
“Can’t I?” Cormac took a sip. “Ambushed, Liam. Twelve men dead. Eight million in merchandise gone. And for what? So you can play house with a Scarpetti?”
Alessia’s hands curled into fists, but she stayed silent.
“The smart move,” Cormac went on, “is to cut your losses. Annul the marriage. Strike the Scarpettis while they’re reeling. Take what’s ours. End this charade.”
“That’s not happening,” Liam said flatly.
“Why not? Honor? Or has she gotten in your head?
Made you soft?” Cormac laughed.
“Watch your mouth,” Liam warned.
“I’m trying to save you, boy.” Cormac slammed the glass down. “Your father is weak. The Council is using you. And she—” He pointed at Alessia. “A poisonous viper. Waiting to strike.”
Alessia rose slowly, ignoring the spin in her head.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Cormac’s eyes were cold. “Salvatore Scarpetti’s daughter. Raised in poison. Taught to manipulate, lie, destroy.”
“That’s enough,” Liam said, voice low and dangerous.
“Is it? Someone needs to say what everyone’s thinking.” Cormac leaned closer. “She’ll betray you. Only a matter of time. And when she does, she takes everything.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liam snapped.
“Don’t I?” Cormac stepped closer. “Look at her, Liam. Too calm. Too composed. Too… perfect. Nobody forced into a marriage adapts this well.”
Alessia’s heart hammered, but her face remained neutral.
“Playing you,” Cormac continued. “You’re blinded by whatever she’s offering.”
Liam moved fast. He grabbed Cormac by the collar, slamming him against the wall, rattling the frames.
“Listen carefully,” Liam’s voice dropped, deadly quiet. “Alessia is my wife. Under my protection. You speak about her again, or look at her wrong, I’ll forget we share blood.”
Cormac’s eyes widened, surprise flickering.
“She saved my life yesterday,” Liam continued. “Multiple times. Fought beside me. Bled beside me. Your conspiracy? Take it and shove it.”
He released Cormac, stepping back.
“Making a mistake,” Cormac muttered, straightening his collar.
“My choice to make.”
“It affects all of us.”
“Then trust me to know what I’m doing.”
Cormac stared, then shifted to Alessia. Calculation in his eyes.
“I hope you’re right, nephew,” he said softly. “For all our sakes.”
He left, door clicking shut behind him.
Silence settled.
Liam’s shoulders were tense, his breath controlled, anger simmering.
“Liam—” Alessia started.
“He’s making his move,” Liam said, turning to her, expression grim. “Siobhan was right. He’s been planning this. Waiting to undermine my father. To take control.”
“What are you going to do?”
Liam’s eyes hardened. “When he makes his move—and he will—I’ll be the viper he accused you of being.”
Alessia’s breath caught. She’d seen Liam angry, violent, protective. But this was different. Ruthless.
“He’s your uncle,” she said carefully.
“He’s a threat to my family,” Liam said, jaw set. “And I eliminate threats.”
He moved toward his study, then paused.
“Thank you,” he said, not looking back. “For not defending yourself. Letting me handle it.”
“We’re a united front,” Alessia said quietly.
His expression softened slightly. “Yeah. We are.”
He disappeared into the study. Alessia sank onto the couch, mind racing.
Cormac knew. Maybe not everything, but he suspected.
And if he started asking questions…
She needed Thorne. Needed to warn him things were deteriorating.
But she couldn’t. Not with Liam watching, the tracker, the bugs.
She was trapped.
The walls were closing in.