“I proposed just this past weekend. On me boat.”
It’s quiet, but I make out Summer’s scoff under breath and the words, “Ye mean yacht,” in her best Irish accent.
Salvatore straightens, a muscle twitching in his temple. “This is unacceptable. You know now who she is. She belongs to the Cosa Nostra.”
Summer steps forward. “I belong to no one.”
I tsk. “Oh, but ye belong to me, love.”
Summer growls, and I almost laugh, entertaining all the snide remarks she’s biting back.
She tries again, though. “I’m no one’s property.” She ushers as much command into her voice, but all it does is break the stoic expression I’ve kept on my face.
I chuckle. “Ye’re mine.”
Chapter26
Summer
My father looks older.
I’m not sure what I thought I’d see when I first heard he was coming. In my mind, he’s been the same as seven years ago, but as I stand here—utterly stunned by the way—I’m not prepared for the extra fine lines extending from his eyes and mouth, or the exhausted look of weariness he seems to wear. The authoritative, resolute man I’d known as my father has crumpled into something dull and unfocused.
I used to think it was fun to watch his face contort with uncontrollable confusion. But right now, in this moment, I’m just as shocked and lost as he is.
“Ye’re mine.”
The two words Kieran spoke both infuriate me and light a fire in my core. It’s insane. What he said is literally insane.
I can’t for one second agree to this. But at the same time, if it gets me out of being thrown into the Cartel’s den, then …
“Kieran. This cannot be.” My father’s words bring me back into the room I wish I could vaporize out of.
I look at Kieran. His shoulders are pulled back, legs spread wide, and his face has a gleam of satisfaction that makes me uncomfortable. It’s like the condescending words of my father miss their mark, and he makes an exaggerated gesture toward the bar.
“How about a drink? Lizzy.”
My father’s mouth pops open as if to say something, but instead he rolls his eyes and looks at the gold Rolex on his wrist. “One drink.”
Kieran’s handsome face smiles.
* * *
Three glasses of amber liquor later, my father is laughing at everything Kieran has to say.
I scoff.He’s not that funny.Does he not understand what I’ve been through?
Both men have completely ignored me as I sit several barstools down from where they’re conversing. Lizzy brought me smoked salmon on soda bread, but I’ve been so enthralled watching the two men I’ve barely taken more than two bites.
I should’ve recognized the signs in Kieran. Irish. The pubs. His employees calling him Boss. The yacht that’s too expensive for your average millionaire.
The thing is, while there’s money there, he doesn’t flaunt it. In fact, he seems way too down to earth to be the Irish Mob boss. Too kind. Too moral.
Kieran extends his hand to my father. “We’ll see ye in three months then.”
My ears perk up. Three months? That’s it?
I jump down from the stool, baffled by what appears to be my father … leaving? I’m not sure why I think he’d waste time saying goodbye to me. That perhaps he actually missed me or was worried for me over the past seven years as opposed to annoyed he lost his youngest bargaining chip. But at least he’s not forcing me to leave with him.