Page 111 of A Love Most Fatal

He lets go of my hair and walks away from me, now typing something into his phone. I hope it’s his final will and testament because I am going to kill his ass with excruciating slowness.

“I will kill you,” I say. “I will never, ever stop fighting you. You can force me to marry you, but you will neverhave me.”

He glances up from his screen looking bored, then rolls his eyes.

“Look,” Cillian says after a few more moments tapping at his screen. He holds it out for me now to see and begrudgingly I do look.

It’s open to some app with two rows, one of names and the adjacent toggles that read “armed.”

My mind races over the names so fast it takes me three times to realize what I’m seeing.

Mary Bedroom, Guest House, Artie Room, Angel Room, Willa SUV, Sean Motorbike, Nate, Garden, Green House, Kitchen, Basement, Garage, the rows read, each a location where I am certain a bomb is planted, one of those damn little ones from the May shipment. The ones that went missing.

“You wouldn’t,” I breathe, and Cillian has the gall to laugh. A loud and brutal sound bursting from his chest.

“You have no fucking clue, do you?” Cillian asks and squats in front of me like he’s talking to a child. “Your family is ascourge, Vanessa. I never thought Sean should marry your bitch sister, but I wasn’t in charge then. They didn’t listen to me.”

I’ve never been one to bite my tongue, though sometimes I wish I could. “We gave you power.”

“Youmade us look weak.” Bits of spit lands on my face, but I refuse to wince. “We didn’t need to have an alliance; we were in better business without you. You act like you are so high and mighty, so many fucking morals for criminals—no skin trade, no organs, none of the shit that actually makes money.

“And we listened. My father was a fool, trusting like you, removed us from circles to get into your father’s good graces. Weapons are more lucrative than girls, he said, your dad’s words, and he believed them. Just went along with whatever he said. It made my father look like a feeble little man.”

“But he was right,” I say. “You’ve gotten into less trouble and doubled your profits over the last decade, how is that not gain?”

“Because now I’m your little bitch, Vanessa. I’ve been in the shadow of your ‘genius’ but you’re not a genius. You’re a novelty.”

I swallow down his words, the sting of them acid on my already dry and stinging throat. He’s lying, or he’s wrong and deranged, but part of me has always wondered when the party trick that is the woman mafia boss would lose its shine.

“And soon, you’ll be a wife. A mother. You think their patience will still be there when you have a kid at home being raised by your mother? You forget your roots, your tradition. You’re too American.”

There is nothing in my stomach but I’m moments away from heaving. From the shame and the embarrassment, from the hatred and sick loathing, and most of all, the fear that he might be right.

“We can be happy together, Vanessa.” Cillian puts his hand on my face again, tilting until my eyes are forced on his. Theworst part is that he looks sincere. He really believes I could be happy with him? “I have wanted this for so long. You just have to see.”

I shut my eyes tight and turn my head until his fingers brush softly over my lips. It’s supplicating, intimate.

“You see the vision, don’t you?” Cillian asks, and I nod again before opening my mouth and biting down on the meaty part of his thumb, hard, until I taste blood.

Cillian’s other hand punches me in the head, my skull reverberating with the blow so much I let him go, a trail of saliva and blood trailing from the marks on his hand.

After a moment, Cillian makes a sound that’s almost a laugh. He’s too crazed for it to sound amused, though. He looks violent.

“I will have you. You will see that we are right for each other,” he says. “And if you don’t, you’ll get to choose who goes first.”

He holds the phone up again, reminding me of the screen, the dozen bombs dormant beneath my loved ones, cobras ready to strike and blow my whole world to pieces.

“Who will you choose? Angel? The teacher? Or maybe my brother first. Easiest to kill, not a blood relation.”

I’m going to be sick, but I force myself not to gag. I can’t show him more just how much he’s getting under my skin.

“I’ll let you think about it,” Cillian buttons on his suit coat, smoothing it out. “Wedding’s at eight.” I bite my cheek so hard it bleeds while I watch him walk away, leaving me alone in the building.

41

NATE

I didn’t sleep.I did try once everyone went home, disappointed to not hear a wedding announcement. Vanessa vanished, leaving only a typed note on her computer. A two line note on a word document.

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