Page 15 of The Irish Arrangement

Marry him or your mother will be taken off the waitlist for this.

Her text chilled me. And just like that, I caved to her threat. I couldn’t forsake my mother. I couldn’t compromise her hope for a healthier rest of her life. My cooperation in all of this was contingent on that detail. That was the only way I could go through with this wedding, nodding and mumbling my replies to the priest.

Only for her.

She was the only reason that made this bearable.

Declan tugged on my hand, noticing that I looked around. If he worried I was trying to run again, he could relax on that. His ironclad grip on my hand was no joke. My fingers would go numb soon, but still, I refused to show him that he was hurting me.

Do your worst, asshole. Go on. I dare you. Because I would be the winner here.

Little did he know, but I couldn’t carry a child. I had very limited chances of fertility due to complications with an ovarian cyst rupture when I first entered puberty. Scar tissue had rendered me damaged and unlikely to ever conceive, so the joke was on him.

My idea to strike a deal with him was an impulsive decision. I knew I was marrying him to secure my mother’s health and safety, but I couldn’t just leave her or my home. I had to get back to her. Once my father paid her bills, I’d be nearly free to return to her.

I wouldn’t give Declan an heir.

I would let him consider me his wife for mere months. Then I would be the one walking away victorious. I’d be the one to get what I wanted, and I couldn’t trouble myself with feeling a morsel of guilt about it.

He was only using me. He only wanted me to knock me up. He'd told me so bluntly that he didn’t care who his wife was, just as long as he had one and she could give him a child. His frankness peeved me, proving how much he didn’t give a shit about me.

Of course, he doesn’t care. He’s not in this for love or money or anything else. A man who’d enter an arranged marriage—and force it upon his bride—wouldn’t even consider the normal reasons a couple would be united.

I hadn’t ever thought about marrying. Independence mattered too much, and once I toughed out these six months, I would actually, finally, have some taste of it. Without my mother’s medical woes and debts weighing down on me…

“Ow.” I hissed, losing my stride with not showing Declan any discomfort. He’d squeezed harder on my hand, and I furrowed my brow at him.

The priest cleared his throat, ripping my attention from the jerk who’d be my husband.

“What?” I snapped.

Blushing and timidly glancing at Declan, the priest gestured at a hand reaching out to me.

Another man seemed to bite his lip, struggling not to laugh as he held up a ring for me to take from him.

I’d zoned out so much, I wasn’t paying attention to the ceremony.

I made eye contact with the tuxedoed man and took the ring.

“Got yourself a really sweet one here, Dec,” he teased.

“Shut the fuck up, Ian.” Declan held his hand up for me to slip his ring on. I did, ramming it over his knuckle and pushing it hard enough to sting as it hit his palm.

“You sure she’s going to stick around?” Ian whispered back with too much amusement.

“Shut up,” I told Ian, annoyed. I didn’t need any more damn reminders of my stupidity to escape the first time. I wouldn’t lose sight of what mattered. My mother was dependent on my obedience here, and I wouldn’t risk her life.

Declan took the simple band and positioned it to slide up my finger. I expected him to force it onto my digit like I had done to him. I knew nothing at all about this man, but I counted on a devilish malice with how cruelly and wickedly he glared at me.

Instead of pain, I was teased to a slow drag of the cool metal up my finger. He pressed it up until it rested as far as it could go. Then, keeping his crystal blue eyes on me, he raised my hand to his smirking lips to kiss where the jewelry now resided.

Heat flared through me, confusing me and pissing me off. The touch of his mouth on me should’ve repulsed me, but my body wasn’t on the same page as my mind. It was the sinister promise in his stare that ignited this ridiculous spike of lust.

“She won’t be going anywhere,” he vowed in reply to his best man.

I swallowed, narrowing my eyes at what sounded like a threat to fight against.

But it also seemed to be a genuine oath, that he would ensure that I stay captive as his bride.

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