Page 9 of Wicked Oath
“You know what? I am. I’ve been meaning to marry Olivia off sooner or later, and who better than the son of the man I called friend.”
I try not to grimace as Patrick and I shake hands.
“So, more power for us?” Patrick asks. “How will this work?”
“We can share our lands and business ventures. If we team up, we could get more done. More products shipped off would mean more money for the both of us.”
He points at me. “That’s smart. Noah raised a smart boy. I’d expect nothing but the best from him.”
At the mention of my dad’s name, a pain clenches my chest.
“So.” Patrick raps his hands on the table, “shall we go give my daughter the good news?”
Now, this makes me smile for real.
“We shall.”
CHAPTER3
Olivia
Ican’t stop thinking about James. His green eyes, a lighter, more striking shade than mine. His longer, messy hair that makes him look more unhinged. The tattoos all over his body. How close he stood to me. How he smelled like musk and darkness wrapped into a handsome package.
And how we almost kissed.
I almost let a total stranger kiss me.
After I return home from the ring, I avoid my mom and dad, who ask me why I’m in such a rush to go to my room. I can only hope that Owen will keep his promise and not tattle on me.
Over the next few days, I barely leave my room for fear my parents will spot the lies on my face and figure out the truth—that I snuck out to the fighting rings and almost made out with James Kelly.
I know his family and mine have worked together in the past. I recall hearing the Kelly name come up on more than one occasion, but I haven’t heard the name in a while. And I need to push James from my mind. Chances are, I’ll never see him again, and it’s just futile to lust after a man who’s just a memory at this point.
Owen doesn’t stop by the house, so there’s no need to fear him ratting me out.
Lucy doesn’t even come by. She’s probably lying low, so she doesn’t get into trouble.
After growing tired of being cooped up in my room, I finally leave and head downstairs to see my grandma in the living room, reading a book.
My grandma, Reagan, is my dad’s mom, the original matriarch of the Donovan family. She’s been in this business for years, having married my grandpa, whom I’ve never met since he died before I was born, and having raised her son to be a mafia boss. Even though she’s hardened, she’s always good for advice, which I need right now.
“Hey, Grandma,” I say, kissing her on the cheek as I sit next to her.
“Hi there, sweetheart.” She pulls me in for a hug. I marvel at her smooth skin, barely a wrinkle in sight, which is surprising since I know she smokes. She makes an effort not to smoke around me when she’s at our house, but the faint smell of cigarette smoke wafts off of her as she pulls away.
“Whatchya reading?” I nod at her book.
She sighs, setting it down. “Just a silly thriller. Nothing like real life.”
“Isn’t that the fun of it, though? Escaping reality?”
“When you’ve lived a life like I have, honey, reality is much more interesting than fiction, trust me.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. “Do you think my life will ever be that interesting?”
“Why do you ask that?” She squints down at me. “Honey, you have a look of guilt on your face. What’s up?”
“Nothing.” I try my best to close off my features.Damn, Grandma. I forgot how perceptive she is.
