Page 55 of Ruthless Savior
“It won’t,” Ronan says firmly. “There are ways to prevent that.”
I frown. “Ways?”
He draws in a slow breath and lets it out. "There’s a solution," he says, drumming his fingers against the back of the armchair in front of him. "One option that would solve all our problems."
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but a slow dread fills me anyway, a sense that something is happening that I’m not going to like.
As if I’ve liked anything that’s happened in the past few months.
"What kind of option?" I ask cautiously.
"Marriage."
He says it calmly, simply, but the word hits me like a physical blow. "What?"
"If we were married, there would be no question of turning you over to De Luca. You'd be family, protected by our laws and traditions. The Bratva—the Russian mafia that we’re allied with—would respect that, would stay neutral in any conflict. My father would be angry, but he couldn’t order me to turn you over any longer. Iyla Sorokov—the leader of the Russians—would not expect me to. Everything changes if you’re my wife."
I blink at him, certain I've misheard. "You want to marry me?"
"It would solve the problem. Make you untouchable,” he deflects. There’s no mention ofwant. Only the practical element. “Rocco believes he owns you. But if I marry you, then I do. I could offer him restitution for you, if it came to it, a monetary payment. But no one would support him taking you back.” Ronan pauses. “To be clear, I don’t believe that I own you. But that’s how others would see it.”
"But… marriage?" My voice comes out higher than intended. "That's… that's permanent." Or at least, I always wanted it to be. I always imagined itwouldbe.
Ronan pauses. "It doesn't have to be,” he says finally. “Nothing changes in regards to my plans for Rocco. I will killhim, no matter what. We could divorce later, once the threat is eliminated. Once you're safe to return to your normal life."
That feels like a second blow. Marriage and divorce, brought up within a few sentences of each other. It feels like whiplash.
"A temporary marriage." I'm trying to wrap my head around this, trying to understand what he's suggesting. "Like a business arrangement."
"Exactly."
“Not unlike the offer I made you,” I point out wryly, and he flinches.
“You made an offer that wouldn’t work out the way you thought it would. It wasn’t as simple as paying off your debt. This is a last resort. I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought there was another way.”
That stings, even though I know this isn’t the time to let my feelings be hurt by something that isn’t personal. "What would that mean, exactly? This temporary marriage?"
Ronan takes a sip of his whiskey. "It would mean you'd be under the absolute protection of the O'Malley family. No one could touch you without declaring war on us directly."
"And you think that would be enough? To stop your father, to keep the Russians on your side?"
He looks at me keenly. "I know it would be. Family is everything in our world. Once you're officially part of mine, the rules change completely. Again, my father would be angry. There’s no doubt about that. But he can’t undo the rules of our world. He lives by them, and he has to abide by them."
I study his face, looking for some sign of what this really means to him. "And after? When it's over?"
"After, you'd be free to go. Back to your mother, back to your life. With enough money to ensure you never have to worry about anything again. I’d make sure you’re provided for, that your mother receives the same standard of care she is now. Iwouldn’t just cut you loose. You’d be well-off, far more than you could have ever expected to be before."
I narrow my eyes at him. It sounds too good to be true, which in my experience means it probably is. "There has to be a catch. There's always a catch."
Ronan goes very still. "There are… conditions."
I can feel myself tense, too. "What kind of conditions?"
He sighs. "For the marriage to be valid, both in the eyes of civil law and the mafia leaders, it would have to appear genuine. People would have to believe it was real."
I frown in confusion. "Meaning?"
"Meaning we'd have to live as husband and wife, at least publicly. There could be no question of the legitimacy of our marriage. You would have to behave as my wife in any circumstance where others were present. And our wedding night—" He pauses, and I can see him shift, see the tension running through him like a live wire. “It would have to be real.”
