Page 67 of A Trap So Flawless

“I’ll give up Ireland.”

The sentence slices between us like a guillotine.

“I’d lose it all to marry you. But I need to know that I won’t lose you in the process. Because if I do lose you, pet, then I’m not gonna fucking make it.”

I hear the crackle of tears in my voice when I reply.

“But… But what about your grandfather? What about the townhouse? What about the shepherd’s pie?”

“The shepherd’s pie?” His eyebrows slash down. “What fucking shepherd’s pie?”

“The shepherd’s pie!” I exclaim. I don’t know why this is what I’m latching onto. But some part of my spiralling mind thinks the shepherd’s pie is of vital importance right now. “The shepherd’s pie that you know so well, in the pub where you said you practically grew up!”

Darragh’s hands close over mine.

“Fuck the shepherd’s pie,” he growls. “Fuck the money and the townhouse. Fuck your daddy and mine. Fuck everything that isn’t fucking you.” He releases my hand to cup my jaw. “You told me that you wouldn’t be my mistress. So tell me that you’ll be my fucking wife.”

This is it. Everything’s come down to this. Rooftops and front steps, bullets and blood. So much pain between us. Revenge. Running. Regret.

He’s done so much damage. And so have I.

We’ll probably damage each other again. Maybe do it all our lives.

But even broken things can be beautiful. Even wounds can become a work of art when inked on an arm.

“I’ll marry you.”

Darragh’s whole frame shudders, like he’s just withstood a tempest. Then, with a feral sound, he crashes his mouth to mine.

He kisses me so hard it hurts.

He kisses me like it’s forever.

Epilogue

“Good morning, Mrs. Gowan.”

Valentina stirs in my arms, rebellious strands of her dark hair tickling my chin. The sun has risen in Dublin, sending late-October light streaming in through the window. It’s a weak light, greyish and moody.

But there was sun yesterday for the outdoor wedding.

It was a small affair. Very private. Rowan and Amos served as the witnesses. Valentina didn’t have anyone from her side present. She’s the only one with Titone blood I can stomach having within ten metres of me at the moment. She did call Elio on speaker phone before we eloped, though, to inform him of our plans.

I thought, after everything that went down with Elio’s wife Deirdre in the winter, his response would have been an immediate no, to which I would have told him to come and get his cousin, then, so I could finally have a chance to blow his head off.

But instead, he remained quiet for a moment before saying, “I looked for you, Valentina. Until I saw the airport security footage that showed you getting willingly on that plane to Dublin.”

Valentina pursed her lips at that, her gaze flicking to me. Because we both knew she didn’t actually board that flight willingly. But I guess she decided that Elio didn’t need to know that part, because she didn’t contradict him.

“But you’d told me about the engagement, and once I saw that you went without being taken, being forced, that you wanted to go…” Another slight pause. “Testarda come un mulo. I knew it would be pointless to try to bring you home. I knew if I tried, one or all three of us likely would have ended up dead.”

“Stubborn as a mule,” she said. “Mamma always says so.” She sighed, holding her left hand up to admire the catch of the shattering light on the yellow diamond. “So that’s why Papà did what he did?”

“He didn’t let me in on that particular plan before executing it,” Elio said. I thought I sensed an edge of disapproval there. “I would have tried to talk him out of it if he did. Not that it would have done any good. You got your stubbornness from him.”

“Yeah,” she said, not quite sadly. But very softly.

“Zizi wants to see you, you know.”

---