Page 7 of Bride By Initiation

If anyone else responded to my questions this way, I'd turn them bloody before they could take their next breath. Something is telling me now is not the time for that, though. So, I use all the restraint I have in order to keep my curled fists at my sides.

I step closer and snarl, "Listen to me closely. You're not welcome here. You're not welcome near Zara. If you step within eyesight of her, the pub, our allies, or anyone else in my family, I'll make sure it's the last time you make a mistake. Are we clear?"

He doesn't flinch. My threat only makes him stand stronger. Amusement fills his expression. "You have a lot to learn, Sean O'Malley Jr. I promise you, the next time you want to make threats against me, you'll think twice."

How does he know I'm a junior?

"Yeah? Why is that?" I question.

His lips twitch. "I figured you were like him."

I freeze, my heart racing, blurting out, "Like who?"

He opens his mouth, but a woman's squealing voice interrupts him. "Sean O'Malley! You're here!"

I tear my eyes off him just as Shannon's friend, Milani, throws her arms around me.

"I'm in the middle of something," I tell her, but I can smell tequila on her. She's too unsteady on her feet for me to easily shrug her off without her falling.

"You did so good the other night!" she screeches in my ear.

I cringe and carefully push her away. "Thanks. Go inside, and I'll talk to you in a few minutes." I open the door and motion for her to pass me.

She puts her hand on my cheek as she strolls through the door, swaying her hips.

I turn to finish my conversation and then freeze.

I'm alone on the sidewalk.

John Smith has disappeared like a ghost, taking all the answers to my questions with him.

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2

Zara Luciana Marino

There's no way I can stay at the pub. I don't know why John would come inside or how he even knew I was here. Yet I shouldn't be surprised. He always catches me off guard.

Six months ago, he appeared. I was coming out of my spin class at around six in the morning. The thick darkness had a bone-freezing chill. Sweat covered my skin, but I had welcomed the sharpness of the air.

I was still breathing hard, rushing out of the gym to get home so I could shower before work. My driver, Calogero, wasn't anywhere in sight, which was unusual.

My overprotective father gave him strict instructions to always be early and never make me wait. And it wasn't like some girls, whose fathers spoiled them and taught them to be demanding toward those on their payroll. Mine issued the orders due to his "safety" concerns. So every morning, Calogero was waiting on the curb for me when I exited my workout.

I was reaching into my bag to pull out my phone when I'd heard, "Ever wonder why you didn't meet your father until you were fifteen?"

My blood had turned cold, all the warmth in my body from my workout disappearing. I spun, realizing the only people who knew those details were those I was already associated with. But the dark-haired, fortyish guy wasn't anyone I had seen before.

He held up his hands and stated, "You don't have to be afraid of me."

"No?" I'd questioned, wishing my mace or the pocket knife my father insisted I carry with me at all times were more easily accessible. I always kept them tucked nicely inside the zippered compartment of my purse, thinking I'd never have to use them since Calogero was always waiting for me.

The stranger stepped closer, and I couldn't move, even though I should have backed up. Then he'd asked the one question my father refused to tell me the answer to, no matter how much I begged him. It was the sore spot between us, and as much as I tried to let it go, I never could. To this day, it nags me over and over on a daily basis.

John nodded and added, "Everyone has been waiting for you."

My heart raced and my mouth had gone dry. I'd barely gotten out, "Everyone?"

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