Page 25 of The Mafia's Bride
Will I get to see that spark that flares behind those uncut emeralds? I pray I do.
I pride myself on my control, on my forethought. But Sloane breaks that control, turning me into a transfixed puppy, waiting for her next move, lapping up whatever she’ll give me.
The billboard made me laugh. I expected some kind of rebuttal from Ferguson’s youngest daughter, some kind of spiteful display of her defiance. But to come after my manhood in full view of the public? It was daring, ballsy, and just the tad bit adorable.
A normal man might be turned off by it. Others would have their egos hurt. Not me. If she has the backbone to come after an heir, she’s exactly the kind of woman I need by my side.
“You’re nervous about something. It’s natural.” Nico shifts, resting the cane between his legs. “When I met your zia, I was sweating so badly, I soaked my shirt. Had to change before the dinner.”
I smile fondly. “Mama told me. She thought Zia Maria would eat you for breakfast.”
Nico coughs. “Your mother was a wise woman. She never trusted me with her little sister. Knew who I was, what I was destined to do.” Zio sighs, voice rumbling through him. “We were arranged too, Lex. She didn’t approve. It took some convincing, mind you. As much as she was your zia’s big sister, she eventually became mine as well.” Soft brown eyes, the color of the dirt of our homeland swirl with remorse. The only time I’ve ever seen the emotion in my strong uncle.
Remorse for not being able to save her. To save my baby sister.
I bite down on my tongue to keep the grief away.Now isn’t the time.
“When you marry into a family, that’s in this kind of life…” Nico struggles, searching for the words. I wait, listening intently, watching the scenery pass by. “The marriage is important, Lex. Yes, we need the contract to be honored, but the marriage is important too.”
I make a mental note to promise Nico that no matter what Sloane throws at me, I won’t let her hinder this arrangement. I might not have all the details but it’s important to Nico.
“Most men in this world don’t honor their wives.” He waves it away like a bad smell. “Not with us. Sloane will be your wife, but your partner as well. She’ll be who you look for at the end of bad days and who will want to share things with at the end of good ones.”
“I know, Zio.”
“But above that? You need to understand her family. They’re nottoo different than ours, yeah? Ace wants Sloane protected and we have to do that if we want the contract—this alliance to be a success.”
“And you think she’ll be safe with us? That I’ll be able to protect her?” I’m to be the next Capo of a large organization in Boston. Sloane will never truly be safe, not from my enemies.
Nico bites his bottom lip, rubbing his jaw. “You’ll need to, piccolo. Otherwise, this whole agreement fails.”
The car pulls upto O’Brien manor and it’s an effort not to gape.
The massive stone estate looks like a castle from the fairytales my zia read to me as a child. Lush thick green boxwood bushes, sprawling red roses on white trellises, with a massive wooden front door. Clearly, it’s reinforced and bullet resistant, the glass thick with the sounds inside muted out here in the night.
Ferguson liked classical architecture, but he knew the risks of this life.
Two soldiers stand by the door, the frame easily twice their size. The thick windows reflects the glow of warmth inside. The air smells crisp out here, not dingy and sour like Boston. A true reprieve from the bustling city.
As we get closer, the door opens and a man in a black jacket walks out. Dark jeans. Black combat boots. Broad shouldered, he’s lean and muscular with an air of death that seems to surround him. Tattoos cut into his neck and knuckles, catching the light behind him.
I know exactly who he is.Killian Linwood.
“Fuck,” Nico curses, stealing a cigarette from his suit jacket. I would have berated him if not for how I’m digging for the same, inhaling the nicotine to calm my nerves.
Killian Linwood is the best hitman in the Northeast, arguably the best period. He has more confirmed kills under his belt and next to no whispers of involvement. He’s more ghost than person, slipping into his target homes or businesses, disposing of the bodies where noone can find them. People all but beg for his services, but onlyhechooses who he’ll work with.
Ferguson employed him exclusively. How he wrangled such an elusive killer, I’ll never know.
“Nico,” Killian greets, lips quirking into a slight smile as he stops before us.
Smileis a relative term. Whatever this is, reminds me of the grace of a reaper coming to collect a soul.
Instantly, my fingers twitch to pull my gun. We might be on Maeve’s territory, but Killian doesn’t follow anyone’s rules. He’s a cold-blooded killer, unpredictable and dangerous.
“Ah, and the heir apparent.” Killian slips his hands into his pockets. “Come to meet your new bride?”
“I assume you only know about it because Maeve employs you. Just like her father.”
