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Betting On Her (A Wilde Love Novel Book 2)

Page 16

by Kelly Collins


  “How do you know for sure?”

  He reached up and plucked a hair from my head. He held it in front of me. “You share his DNA.”

  I sucked in a huge breath. “You knew, then.”

  “I wasn’t sure, but I was motivated to find out. If all goes well, you’ll be a Wilde tomorrow.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Tomorrow?”

  He smiled. “You told me you couldn’t marry me until you found your father. He’s here, and he’s excited to get reacquainted with you.”

  He said reacquainted which meant I’d already met him. I stared at the man, who slowly rose from his chair and turned around. He was none other than Liam O’Leary. Lucky O’Leary.

  “Oh my God. I’m Irish.” I rushed forward and hugged my father for the first time.

  He stood back and took me in. “I always thought you were far too pretty to be Yuri’s daughter,” he said with a heavy brogue.

  I straightened my shoulders and stood tall. “Of course. I’m Katya Anya, and I look like my mother.”

  He pulled me in for a hug. “Yes, you do. Your mother owned my heart.”

  We sat at the table and caught up on the twenty-five years he’d missed. He said he’d loved my mother but respected her decision to stay with Mikhail. When she told him she was pregnant again with Yuri’s child, she felt it was best if they quit their affair.

  “Your mother was a brave woman, but she was also a mother, and she loved Mikhail too much to leave him in the hands of Yuri.” He wiped at a tear. “I never knew you were mine. She never told me. I would have—”

  I placed my hand on my father's. “She was trying to protect us both. She took the secret to her grave.”

  Liam’s cheeks grew beet red. “When I find Yuri, I’m going to kill him.”

  Matt and I looked at each other and smiled. “He’s no longer a problem, we’re told.”

  Liam lifted his bushy brows. “Who do I need to thank?”

  I giggled. With the way Sergei felt about the Irish, I didn’t expect that meeting to go well. “Sergei Volkov, I imagine.”

  My father frowned and grumbled something about big Russian oafs and small brains.

  He leaned over and took something from the empty seat beside him.

  “It’s not much, but I think you’ll love it.” He slid the beautifully wrapped package across the table to me.

  I opened the box that was tied with a red ribbon, and inside I found a photo album. I opened the first page to a picture of my mother and Liam. They stood in a rose garden, looking happier than any two people I’d ever seen.

  “You are the reason she loved roses so much?” It was more of a question than a statement.

  “She loved the gardens in Caesar’s Palace. We met there all the time or at the spa.”

  I touched the picture as if it would somehow bring her back, and in a way, it did because this was the only picture I had of my mother. I flipped through the pages and saw the light of love shine from her eyes in each picture. There were some of her alone and some of her with Liam. There was one of her and him with his three children. It occurred to me that I indeed had siblings.

  “Do they know?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and they are happy to invite you into the family. It’s odd for them. It may take some time to get used to having a new sister, but they’re open to the idea. They only met your mother once. It wasn’t planned; we just happened to be at the same place having lunch. “You were there too.” He pointed to my mother’s pregnant stomach.

  I looked at the picture closely. “Wow, we were actually together as a family.”

  “Yes, we were, but no one knew.”

  I stared at my siblings. Kirsten was a small child. I knew her mother had died at her birth. Ian and Patrick stood on each side of her as if she were theirs to protect. How much I’d missed.

  “I look forward to seeing them.”

  My father looked at Matt and frowned. “You’ll see them tomorrow at your wedding.”

  My eyes grew wide as I snapped my head around to Matt. “You were serious. We’re getting married tomorrow?”

  Matt reached for my hands and brought them to his lips. “I don’t want to wait another minute. Haven’t we wasted enough time?”

  He was right. I’d pined for him my whole life and put him off until my father could be found, and now that he was here, there was no reason to wait.

  Liam looked at Matt. “As your father, I’d be failing you if I didn’t tell you that you could do better than this Italian, but as my daughter and the daughter of Anya, I know you're choosing with your heart and not your head. It would be my pleasure to walk you down the aisle if you’d like.”

  I leaped up and threw my hands around Liam's neck. “Yes, I want you to give me away.”

  He pet my hair like I was a puppy. “I just got you back. I’ll never give you away again, but I will loan you to this man, provided he takes care of you.” He gave Matt a hard look. “Son, if you don’t, you’ll have to answer to me.”

  “Yes, sir. I will spend every minute of the rest of my life keeping Katya happy.”

  Liam rose. “Make sure you do.” He gave me a kiss and told me he’d see me tomorrow and then walked away.

  “I don’t know if I should hit you or kiss you.”

  A waiter arrived with our first course.

  “Oh sweetheart, eat up because you’re going to be kissing me all night long.”

  Chapter 24

  The Wilde name came with money and power. I stood at the altar of the church and waited for my bride. They say it takes a village to raise a child. It took a city to plan a wedding any woman would love, and it took less than twenty-four hours to get it to all come together.

  I stood proudly next to my brother Rafe, who put his dreams at risk so I could live mine.

  “You can turn and run. I mean, you’re marrying into the Irish mafia. How is that going to play into your plan of legitimacy?”

  While he talked to me, his eyes never left the front pew, where Kirsten O’Leary sat. Maybe my marriage to Katya would bridge the gap between the two families. Liam couldn’t hate the Wildes too much if his daughter was married to one.

  “Still have a thing for the little shamrock, do ya?”

  “Don’t let her hear you call her that. She’d gut you in a second.”

  “Euthanize me, maybe. Her specialty is animals.”

  Rafe looked at me. “Like I was saying. And no, I don’t have a thing for Kirsten. Even if I did, Ian would kill me right after her father castrated me. I’m not interested in anyone right now.”

  “Right.” I knew he’d had a thing for her ever since they were in school together.

  The music began to play, and my heart started at a gallop and continued to race until my head grew dizzy. A month ago, I would have told anyone I’d have a higher likelihood of getting gunned down than married. Hell, a month ago, getting gunned down sounded far more appealing, but as I watched the aisle of the mostly empty church and saw my brother and best man Alex lead his wife and Katya’s bridesmaid down the aisle, I realized marrying Katya would be my smartest decision.

  Alex kissed his wife and left her on the opposite side of the aisle before he joined me. Seconds later, the double doors opened and Katya and Liam appeared. He stood proudly as he walked her down the aisle. Dressed in a black tuxedo embellished with a four-leaf clover cummerbund, he walked the most beautiful woman alive toward me.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The white dress she had chosen was perfect to showcase her long, sexy legs. The light coming from the back of the church circled her like a divine light.

  When they got to the front of the church, I walked to the center to meet her.

  “You didn’t run,” she said when I stood in front of her.

  “Not a chance.”

  Liam cleared his throat. “I can still fix you up with a nice Irish boy.”

  Katya cupped his cheek and smiled. “Thank you, but I chose him.”

  Liam nod
ded and waited for the priest to ask who gave this woman to be married. He proudly announced to everyone that he, Liam O’Leary, would give his daughter to marry Matteo Wilde.

  There was a bit of commotion coming from the pews. We all turned to watch Sergei. Katya and I laughed. We had forgotten to tell him about her true heritage.

  Liam walked away and sat with his sons and daughter.

  The priest went through all the motions. He said all the words. I never heard one of them. The words didn’t matter. All that I cared about was this woman and the kiss that would seal the deal. When asked if she'd take me as her husband, her ‘yes’ wasn’t soft or subdued. She said it loud enough for her mother to hear in heaven or Yuri to hear in hell.

  I was already kissing her before the priest gave us permission, but Katya and I would never be traditionalists. This was our life, and we’d live it by our rules. Our new motto was 'take no prisoners'.

  After the ceremony, we all converged on Capones, where the alcohol flowed freely and the music played all night.

  Kirsten, Ian, and Patrick welcomed my wife to their family with a hug. They gave me a handshake and a warning to keep Katya happy or else.

  In the corner sat Rafe by himself. I felt sorry for my brother, who grew up as a good man in a gangster’s universe. I followed his line of sight to Kirsten, who danced with her brother Ian.

  There was no chance for them in our world—a world where marriage was a calculated bet. Where love was a bonus and not a guarantee. Where an Irish mob princess would never be allowed to marry my Italian brother. Then again, this was Las Vegas, and anything was possible.

  Thank you for reading.

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  Betting On Us Sneak Peek

  Another day, another cat getting neutered. A puppy getting vaccines and a rabbit in for a nail trim. I loved my job as a veterinarian, but even I could admit that the routine of it could sometimes be a little boring.

  But boring was good. Boring was safe. Unlike my decidedly non-animal clients who often appeared at the end of my shift.

  I hadn’t had any of those today—yet—but there was still a good twenty minutes in which some bloody, bruised or otherwise damaged person might come in asking to be stitched or cleaned up ‘under the radar’.

  You know, for someone who tried her best to keep out of the mob life, I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. But I could hardly turn any of these men (and occasionally women) away. If they went to a hospital, they’d most likely get arrested or worse. I didn’t want that on my conscience.

  Despite my father, Liam “Lucky” O’Leary, heading up the Irish mob, I helped out members of any of the mob factions in Las Vegas if they ventured into the Collins Veterinary Clinic, be they Irish, Russian or Italian. I often had people come in asking for help who weren’t part of any of the factions, too—recently, there had been an influx of Colombians trying to get a foothold in the Vegas underworld, so I’d started to gain more and more of them as ‘patients’.

  Let’s just say I didn’t want anybody’s blood on my hands, so despite me not wishing to play any part in the mob life I was born and raised into, I had found myself becoming Las Vegas’ unofficial mob doctor.

  Even I could admit it sounded pretty badass, which was precisely why I wished I could get out of it—the danger and excitement of it all could be addictive. But it was also a death sentence; all you had to do was get involved with the wrong people or be present on the wrong street at the wrong time, and you were done.

  At least for me, since I patched up anyone who came into the surgery, I had been granted ‘immunity’—nobody wanted the woman who stitched up their men and prevented them from getting arrested to be harmed. And damn if that didn’t feel good, knowing I had that kind of sway within the Vegas mob network.

  Ugh. Again, thoughts such as that were exactly why I had to get away. But I loved Las Vegas; it was my home. To move away and give it up would be tantamount to destroying part of my soul.

  With one final clip of the scissors, I finished trimming my last patient of the day’s nails—a humungous rabbit named Hulk. Very appropriate. He was almost half the size of his petite owner, which always made me laugh when they came in.

  I gave the rabbit a fond scratch behind his floppy ears. “He’s all done, May. Shall I book Hulk in for another nail trimming in three months’ time?”

  She nodded as she hefted her gentle giant into his crate—which was built for a small dog. “Thanks, Kirsten. That would be great. Hulk will be happy he can scamper about again—and my boyfriend will be happy his nails stop scratching up the wooden floor!”

  It was with a contented sigh that I collapsed onto the window seat in the exam room once May Waters had left, watching the sun slowly set with sleepy eyes. It was a long day, working two shifts back-to-back because the other junior vet, Rose, had gotten sick. The flu, apparently. I’m fairly certain she was lying; I vaguely recalled catching sight of her calendar on her phone a couple weeks ago and seeing her boyfriend was flying in to visit her over the next few days.

  Not that I could blame her, of course. If I had a boyfriend flying in just to see me, I’d pretend to be sick, too. But that train of thought didn’t lead anywhere good—all it did was make me think of Rafe. Raphael Wilde, the youngest of the three infamous Italian mob brothers, now working as an in-demand lawyer after graduating from Harvard. We’d known each other for…probably as long as I can remember. And we’d been forbidden from ever acting on our yearning stares and stolen glances for…probably as long as I can remember, too.

  But Katya—my newly discovered half-sister, now belonging just as much to the Irish mob as she did the Russian mob, married Matt, one of Rafe’s elder brothers and now had infiltrated the Italian mob as well. If she could be together with one of the Wildes, then why couldn’t I?

  I sighed again, this time longingly. It would never happen. Rafe and I had been out of touch since I graduated as a vet. We did our best to avoid each other at Alex’s wedding to Faye and also Katya’s wedding to Matt, knowing that seeing each other would end up being painful.

  Or we’d end up doing something we’d regret. How I wish we could have done something we’d regret.

  But it was common knowledge Rafe didn’t want any part of his family’s mob life, and he was generally doing one hell of a good job avoiding it. Unlike me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he jumped on a flight out of Vegas and relocated to New York any moment now, never to be seen or heard from again.

  Which was why I had to forget about him. But I’d been trying to forget about him ever since I was old enough to identify what the butterflies in my stomach meant when I saw him—and failed, failed, failed.

  Was I doomed to pine after a man I couldn’t have, trying to find solace in short-lived boyfriends who simply couldn’t match Rafe?

  Well, it was either that or my mob family scared them off. Probably a bit of both, to be honest.

  “Kirst, are you done in here?” Dean Collins, owner and senior vet of the clinic asked as he rapped on the door.

  “You know I hate you calling me that, Dean,” I replied, sighing a little as I moved from my window seat and walked to the door. “And yes, I’m done. Finally.”

  Dean grinned; his sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes and flawless skin belied the fact that the man was just a couple years shy of forty.

  If I look as good as that when I’m thirty-eight, then I’ll be one very happy woman, I thought, returning Dean’s grin with a tired smile.

  “You sure you’re done? No scary gangsters coming in to get their arm stitched up today?”

&nbs
p; Now here was a man who was decidedly unfazed about my mob background. If anything, he liked it. It meant his precious clinic was protected—as well as the fact that my non-animal clients brought in extra money. Or at least they paid for the supplies they used.

  I shook my head no. “Doesn’t seem like there will be any today, thank Go—”

  Of course, that’s when the front doorbell rang, signaling a new customer. I stifled a groan.

  “I can send them away if you don’t feel up for it, Kirsten,” Dean said, frowning slightly in concern as he placed a hand up to my forehead. “You look as if you need to sleep for about three days, and it feels like you might be coming down with a fever.”

  I gently brushed Dean’s hand away as I made my way around him towards the reception. “It’s better to deal with whoever it is now than risk what’ll happen to them if I don’t. And if I have a fever, you can blame Rose.”

  Maybe she was actually sick, I thought. Sucks to be her if her boyfriend’s visiting and she’s chucking up in the toilet or shivering with a fever in bed.

  “Your funeral,” I just barely heard Dean comment as I reached the reception desk. The person standing there was indeed a member of the mob, but not the kind of person I was expecting.

  It was Katya.

  She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she smiled at me awkwardly.

  “Hey, Kirsten. I just found out you worked here, and…” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I figured I’d stop by and say hi.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean watching the two of us curiously, so I ushered him over.

  “Katya, this is my boss, Dean. Dean, this is my…half-sister, Katya,” I said, the words still feeling odd on my tongue.

  Dean shook Katya’s hand as he smiled devilishly for her—the guy definitely knew how to wield his looks like a weapon.

  “The illustrious half-sister. Lovely to meet more of Kirsten’s family,” he said, “especially a beautiful woman. I was beginning to worry that all the people Kirsten was surrounded by were men.”

 

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