My jaw damn-near hits the floor. “M-marriage?” I whisper. “You can’t possibly mean—”
“He does,” Conor says flatly. “You marrying the guinea is the only way for us to stay safe.”
“How in the fuck do you figure that?” I screech, clutching the sides of my head. Blood bubbles in my veins, boiling right alongside my temper. “And if this is all your fault in the first place, why don’t you marry the guinea?”
“You do know I’m still standing here, right? I’d prefer Matteo to ‘the guinea.’” He smirks. “Especially if we’re going to be one happy mixed family.”
“There is nothing happy about this!” I turn to my father. “Daddy,” I plead. “This is insane! You can’t marry me off to the Italian!”
“Okay, better than the guinea, I guess,” Matteo murmurs.
“Shut the fuck up!” I yell at him before turning back to Dad. “Why is it that I have to be punished? I do the right thing always, and what thanks do I get? ‘Hey, Heaven, how about you take one for the team and marry the ginzo?’”
“Okay, it’s getting a little offensive now.” Matteo rolls his eyes and backs up against the wall.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a long second so I don’t have to see the look of enjoyment on his face.
Calm, calm, calm! We can work this out another way. I just need to figure out what way that might be.
“Dad, I can appreciate your concern for Conor’s actions, but I am not marrying Guido over there.” I shrug, sinking into a chair. “Not happening. I have work to do for this family, and if nobody else can figure out a way to make peace with the cartel, then as usual, it will be up to me.” I cross my legs and flash a sweet smile at the three men standing over me. “Let’s devise a plan, shall we?”
My father’s shoulders sag as he drops to his knee in front of me. He takes my hand in his, his dry skin scratchy against mine. “Heaven, love, there is no other plan. The decision has been made. You’re my only daughter, the only one who can save us from the cartel’s retaliation.”
“No,” I whisper. “I have things to do…my job, my goals, my whole future! You can’t just sign me away, just like that! Who’s going to run things here?”
“Don’t you understand that I’m doing this to protect you and your future?” Dad whispers.
“I don’t see how stripping away everything I’ve worked for is protecting me or my future,” I seethe, yanking my hand away from him. I leap out of my seat, stomping over to my brother.
“You probably love this, don’t you? A way to push me aside so you don’t have to compete with me anymore, huh? Because anyone with half a brain can see you can’t lead your way out of a goddamn paper bag with a map and a flashlight!”
“Little Miss Perfect,” he sneers at me, leaning close, his blue eyes filled with anger and disdain. “You always do everything right, don’t you? You never miss a beat, never lose focus. You never fuck up, right?”
My spine stiffens at his words. He’s taunting me and he knows it, bastard that he is. He knows how devastated I still am over Molly. I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “Fuck you, Conor,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
I swivel around to look at Matteo. His face is stoic now, like he knows for sure that the outcome of this conversation is going to result in my climbing in the back of his guido-mobile. But he doesn’t know shite! “There will be no wedding,” I say. “And I will find another way to protect my family, without leaving it up to my incompetent brother. So if you’ll all excuse me, I’ve had quite enough of this shit show. I’m out!”
I pull open the door to the office, step into the hallway, and slam the door shut with as much force as I can muster, when all I really want to do is crumble into a ball in the corner and weep for the life that they’re trying to take away from me.
I duck into the kitchen, my heart thumping like a thoroughbred. There has to be another way, I just have to figure it out.
It’s my job, one I refuse to give up!
“Heaven, a mhuirnín. What’s the matter?”
I jump at my Aunt Maura’s thick brogue, fighting the tears that sting my eyelids. She brings a hand to the side of my face, her own pinched with concern. “Is it your head?”
“No,” I whisper, leaning against the sink. I don’t want anyone else to see me this way, a sniveling, wet-eyed mess, instead of the strong and confident underboss I’ve worked so hard to become. “It’s worse. Way worse.”
“And you just came from my brother’s office,” she muses. “I’d imagine anything that happened behind that door would certainly cause you more grief than a bump on the head.”
“You have no idea,” I grumble.
Aunt Maura pours two shots of whiskey and holds one out for me. “Take this, a leanbh. And then we’ll talk.”
I tip my head back and let the liquid sear a path down my throat. It feels good, but nothing can numb the pain clenching my heart. “Mom would never let this happen if she were alive,” I whisper.
Aunt Maura places her glass on the stainless steel counter. “Wouldn’t let what happen?”
I sigh, scrubbing a hand down the front of my face. “She’d never make me marry someone to save our family. That’s what the meeting was about. Well, it was more of an ambush, if you ask me.”
Aunt Maura nods. “Well, you’re right. Your mother certainly would have an opinion on marriage, Heaven. But it’s not the one you think.”
I shoot her a quizzical look. “Meaning?”
Aunt Maura leads me through another doorway into a more private space and motions for me to sit down. At this point, my knees are about to give out on me and I gratefully sink into the chair. “You remember that your mother was very young when she married your father, right?”
I nod. “Yes, they were childhood sweethearts.”
Aunt Maura smiles. “It was a nice story to tell all of you, but that’s not why they married so young.”
“What are you talking about?” I whisper, anticipation knotting my stomach.
“They were arranged, Heaven,” she says in a low voice. “Because the families needed an alliance against a common enemy. Your mother was the only girl in her family, just as you are, and she was arranged to marry your father to keep peace.” Aunt Maura shrugs. “It was the only way to defeat the evil force that would have crushed them both.”
“How could you not have told me this? How could you all keep that secret for so long?”
“It didn’t matter why they came together, dear. After years passed, they grew to love one another and they were able to preserve their families through the union. They moved here to the States to raise a beautiful family and grow and prosper. How they got together didn’t much matter after everything they achieved together.”
I press my fingertips together. “Jesus…”
“Now, I’m not sure why your father is asking you to do this, but I’m sure he has a good reason.” She drops a kiss on the top of my baseball cap. “I know how badly you want to lead this family, Heaven. And I know the kind of opposition you’ll encounter, being a woman. But whatever the reason, maybe this is the way to prove your loyalty to the family, to show that you can accept responsibility. It may be a different path than you’d anticipated, but in the end, it is a greater show of strength to make the hard choices and stick by them than to resist them.”
“I don’t want to be the cause of anything bad,” I grumble.
“Your father knows that, too, dear,” she says. “And there is a reason why he asked this of you.”
I snort. Yep, because yet again, I need to clean up one of Conor’s messes. But I reserve this last bit, because even though Aunt Maura has become my confidante over the years of living in the middle of Testosterone Central, and taken on the role of mother figure, there is still plenty she doesn’t need to hear.
“Do you think it’s a good reason?” she asks softly, tilting my chin upward.
I make a face. “It’s a reason.”
“Don’t screw up y
our face like that,” she admonishes me with a playful wink. “Otherwise it might freeze and you’ll have no choice but to marry this man because nobody else will want you.”
I lean back against the chair and stare up at her. “So that’s it, huh? You enlighten me with an anecdote and a pep talk of sorts, and boom. I’m in a wedding dress?”
She shrugs. “There’s no better way to prove that you’re capable of leading the family than by taking control of an issue before it has a chance to control you.”
I stare up at her. She’s damn wise, I’ll give her that. I think she knows more than anyone how badly I want to step into my father’s role, even more than he does.
I could dig my heels in and refuse, but then all of the blood spilled as a result will be on my hands.
Not Conor’s, mine.
Which is completely fucked up, by the way. But that’s how things work in our world.
She who has the power to control the bloodshed must.
Fuck me.
I have to marry the wop.
Chapter Nine
Matteo
“So what happens now?” Roman asks me when I join him at the bar. He slides an amber-colored ale toward me. “We leaving with your betrothed or what?”
I shrug, leaning on the dark polished mahogany. “Declan said he’d talk to her and try to convince her to go along with it, but she’s a smart girl. She wants to rebel, but knows deep down it’s what’s best for her family.”
“And you,” Roman quips, holding out his glass and clinking mine. “I mean, congrats, bro. You’re definitely marrying up.”
I roll my eyes and take a long sip of the cold beer. I should feel good about this, like I accomplished something big for my organization.
Because I did.
And it’s not just big, it’s huge.
I shake off the needless feelings that are fogging up my view for the future.
I can’t focus on what she does to me. I can’t let that fuck up my plans.
But damn, she stirs up a whole lot inside of me…things I’ve tried to keep buried because letting them out can only be bad. And those feelings have been boiling dangerously close to the surface since I had her tied up in my townhouse the other night.
My job puts people I care about in danger.
So the best thing for me to do is limit that number.
It means throwing up impenetrable stone walls around my personal perimeter.
I have to stick with my agenda.
There’s no room for emotion.
Only dollar signs.
“You having second thoughts?” Roman’s voice jolts me.
“No,” I say, placing the glass on a coaster. “This is the right move — for all of us. It eliminates potential issues and keeps people safe.”
“And makes you a shit ton of money.”
“That, too.” I grimace, clutching the glass tight.
Roman swivels around, eyeing the blonde waitresses hustling around the place with drink trays. “You never marry a blonde. You just fuck ’em. You marry the brunettes.”
“What do you do with the redheads?” I grumble.
“You make sure to get out of the way of their temper, otherwise their fire will singe the hair on your ass before you can make a run for it,” a thick Irish brogue quips from behind us.
I turn in the direction of the voice to see a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and laughing blue eyes hidden by big eyeglass frames staring at us. She leans toward us, and in a conspiratorial tone says, “I take it you’re the Italians.”
I grin at her, unable to help myself. She’s just so jovial-looking. It’s hard to be cold when she’s the exact opposite.
Besides, she looks a lot like Heaven, and if we’re gonna be family, I should try to ingratiate myself with the rest of the Mulligans, especially since that twat Conor is at the top of my shit list, and I almost put her brother Patrick in the hospital.
I need all the allies I can get.
It’s all part of the plan.
“We are,” I say, sticking out my hand. “Matteo Villani, and this is my brother, Roman.”
She pumps my hand a few times, eyeing us both. “A pleasure,” she says. “I’m Heaven’s Aunt Maura.” She looks up at me like there’s something she wants to say but is debating it.
Her lips stretch into a smile. “May I have a moment, Matteo?”
I nod. A tiny part of me wonders if she’s here to tell me that this whole wedding is off, that Heaven isn’t going along with the wishes of her father.
And the gut twist that accompanies that suspicion makes me grit my teeth.
No fucking emotion, dammit!
That’s not what this is all about!
I follow her away from the bar, toward a hallway off the main dining room. Maura stops and turns to face me once we’re somewhat secluded.
“Let me start by saying that I have no idea why my brother has decided to marry off his only daughter, but I imagine it’s for good reason.”
I nod, waiting for the real reason for this little impromptu chat.
She lifts a thin eyebrow. “Heaven is a special girl, and Declan must either think very highly of you or your ability to keep her safe. That said, she absolutely hates the idea of this marriage. Since her mother died, it’s been a difficult life for her, money aside. Heaven struggled for a long time to find her place in a family full of big, brutal men, and now that she’s found it, she is petrified of letting it go.”
“But she doesn’t need to let it—”
Maura wags a finger in front of my face. “Zip it. I’m not finished yet.”
I snap my mouth closed.
“She needs to come to that conclusion herself, so make sure she’s given the chance. Right now, she feels completely betrayed and cast aside, even though it’s for the good of the family. And she hates not being in the middle of the action, hates that her safety was just basically pawned off to you, a man she has never seen before.”
An image of her arms tied above her head as her body writhes against my mouth flashes across my mind.
Nope, never seen her once.
“She won’t go easy,” Maura continues. “But she’s a good girl — smart, selfless, and sweet when she wants to be.”
My lips curl into a half-smile. “I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”
“You’d better.” Maura’s expression turns into one of warning. “I’ve seen what she can do with a paring knife, and it ain’t pretty.”
“Noted,” I say.
Maura gives me a long look as she expels a sigh. “Oh, Declan, I hope you know what the hell you’re doing,” she mutters.
“So, Aunt Maura,” I say. “Any idea where I can find Heaven? Part of the arrangement is that she leaves with me tonight.”
Maura’s eyebrows shoot up. “Does she know that?”
“She stormed out of the office before anyone could tell her.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she says, patting my arm. “Anything for my family.”
I watch her walk away before I join my brother at the bar again. “Meeting the family, huh?” he says with a grin.
I rub the back of my neck, the reality that I’m about to tear this girl away from everything she loves setting in deep. But I’ve never been the one to snooze on opportunity, and everything is falling into place with such rapid speed that I couldn’t pull away if I wanted to.
And I don’t.
There is too much riding on this arrangement.
I can’t let any personal feelings for Heaven blur my vision of the bigger picture. That has to remain clear always.
Yes, she’s gorgeous, strong, and fiery as hell, but at the end of the day, she serves a purpose.
The fact that I’ve never tasted a pussy so sweet can’t sway me from my goal.
Step one is getting her to leave here with me while wearing my ring.
We can’t convince the underworld that this upcoming marriage isn’t a sham unless it loo
ks like we actually want to be together.
That starts right now.
Declan and Conor appear from the hidden doorway a minute later and Declan nods his head toward me, a signal to join him. Conor glares at me and pushes past, stalking toward the front door of the pub.
Damn, I was so tempted to sucker punch him.
But it probably wouldn’t have been a great idea since I’m trying to ingratiate myself with my future in-laws. Gotta play nice.
For now.
Declan pulls open the door for me. “She’s in my office. Take a few minutes with her to figure out logistics. We’ll be out here waiting.”
I stuff my hands in my pockets, my fingers hitting the tiny ring box. My chest tightens as thoughts of my own mother float into my mind. Even though she’d hate me laying claim to a woman for business purposes, I’m thinking of her best interests. Hell, I’m doing this for my whole family, for Red Ladro, the syndicate we’re part of with a group of other families situated around the world. Everyone will benefit from this union, even if they don’t realize it yet.
Well, everyone but one person.
But someone has to be the scapegoat.
I knock on the door, expecting that Heaven is alone inside of the office.
“Come in.”
Hm. She doesn’t sound hysterical, but then again, I’d only expect her to lash out when I’m in front of her, not shielded by a heavy wooden door.
I push it open to find her leaning against the desk in the center of the room, arms folded over her chest. I can see the bruises more clearly in the overhead light. She’s still dressed in the same black t-shirt and jeans, still wearing the baseball cap pulled down low over her eyes.
I don’t need to see them to feel the heat they emit.
And it’s not the good kind, either.
It’s of the deadly variety.
One thing I’ve learned through my limited interactions with this woman is that her spark is always ready to ignite, and the flames singeing my ass hair will be the least of my concerns.
Savage Ruler: A Dark Italian - Irish Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Sinfully Savage) Page 7