“Gladly.” I wink then snatch my purse that houses my cell and the lipstick I chose—aptly named “Blood Debt”—as well as the invitation to tonight’s party.
Shay isn’t wrong. I do find these things entertaining. Why wouldn’t I? College is a luxury I was never supposed to experience. This time with him in our shared house—forbidden. Parties and nightclubs and college life were for other people.
I should be married by now. A mother. That was my route.
Why wouldn’t I revel in the unexpected?
And why wouldn’t I show my gratitude for the detour to the people who made it happen?
In all likelihood, the Veronians are only interested in me because of my connection to Shay and the O’Donnellys.They want him.And they believe we’re dating.
We’re not, but that just means they aren’t as clever as they like to think.
And I do enjoy living down to people’s expectations.
My O’Donnelly connection is different. One of my brothers-in-law runs NYC’s streets. Camille’s husband, Brennan, akaOlder Brother, is the only O’Donnelly who keeps his nose in the dark and dirty business that is their origin story—the Irish Mob.
Eoghan, akaOther Brother, is too fucked-up from his time in the service to do much more than kill via a sniper’s rifle and be Inessa’s husband. (Unsurprisingly, it’s the latter they advertise. I’m sure the rifle will come out at some point to deal with one of Shay’s political rivals, but that’s for the future.)
The rest of “my uncles” are amassing power in several industries, nationwide, as they cleanse their name. Uncle Declan spends most of his time running the various sports teams they purchased so he’d look normal—it started with soccer and they’ve added hockey and basketball to the mix.
The craziest thing I’ve learned through my time in O’Donnelly households?
How easy it is to convince the American public you’re a wholesome family when you have enough cash to whitewash the past.
I’m not sure which connection swung the balance in my favor but here we are—the Veronians have decided they want me.
And I’m not afraid to seize the advantage.
Shay’s still grumbling about psychotic family members and how he’s all alone and out in the cold of normalcy as the door snicks to a close.
I laugh when, almost immediately, a ladybug swoops from out of nowhere and lands on my wrist.
“Hello, little one,” I greet before my cell buzzes and I see Maxim’s texted.
When my hand flies to my throat, the ladybug flutters off.
Maxim: An update?
I hate that my heart quickens.
But that, in itself, is why he fascinates me.
Maxim is the opposite of boring.
He never does or says what I expect him to and always keeps me on my toes.
Just thinking about the shower he took last night has me wanting to squeal.
But that would be childish.
And this whole goddamn thing isn’t solely about helping out Shay—I want to prove my usefulness.
I love my sisters. I do. They’re my rocks. But their paths aren’t mine. I don’t want to just be a mobster’s wife. I want more.
It’s why I get along so well with Shay’s aunts, Savannah, Star, and Aoife. His mom, too. They’re scrappers. And a lot more besides. But they’re proof that I can have a purpose.
Me: Couldn’t wait to hear from me?
