Page 108 of Mafia Boss's Fake Wife

“Probably some kind of fucking protected flower,” I mutter. It is on the grounds of this monastery that feels ancient, so it's entirely possible.

Still, I reach beneath the crust of the snow and pull up enough to be a small handful.

I hop back across the snow, my feet fucking freezing because of the moisture from the snow. I hand Roisin the flowers. “Here,” I mutter.

She blinks. “How did you…”

“Saw them on the way in.”

“Snowdrops,” she murmurs.

Her hand touches mine as she pulls the little clutch of flowers to her chest.

I raise my eyebrow. “Is that what they’re called?”

“Yeah. They’re the first things that bloom in the winter. Up here, anyway. We don’t have them in Ireland, since it doesn’t snow there quite as often, but yeah. Snowdrops.”

“Well. Snowdrops. That’s what they are,” I say, watching to see Roisin’s reaction.

Her shoulders relax, slightly.

It’s not quite the reaction that I’m hoping for. I want her to be okay. I want her to feel good about this, aboutus.

But she doesn’t.

This is to protect her.

It’s a silent reminder of what’s important to remember right now, but looking at Roisin’s face, it doesn’t help me feel any better.

I did this to her.

I’m the one who decided that we needed to get married.

So you can keep her safe.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m keeping her safe right now. Right now, it looks like I’m the only one causing her pain.

Guilt floods me.

“Roisin…”

“Let’s just get this over with, yeah?” she says. I watch as her eyes seem to shutter, and she looks at the door to the chapel.

I want to stop her. Hold her hand. Keep her back with me.

But as soon as I reach for her, she’s already pushing the door open and walking inside.

I clench my fist, pulling it tightly against my thigh.

Let’s just get this over with.

I don’t want to be something that Roisin “gets over with”.

The circumstances aren’t ideal, sure.

But as I watch her move into the chapel, greeting the truly ancient looking man inside, I can’t help but feel a deep, unsettling feeling. I’m enraged, with myself.

Why not me? Why doesn’t Roisin want to marry me?

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