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28
SCAR
Matteo walked in the front door, looking exhausted, with the judge at his back. Next to Ed Ryan stood the last man I wanted to see.
The very last man on the planet that I wanted to have any say in what happened once Irina came home safely.
Matteo sighed, dropping his forehead into his hand as he ran it over his tired face. “Scar, this is Grant Dumas—” he started, freezing the moment he turned his full attention my way.
Grant’s eyes held mine, a silent question in them. His shock was practically palpable. He clearly hadn’t expected to find me at the Bellandi household. “We’ve already met, unfortunately,” he said, never dropping his gaze from mine.
“Jesus Christ, I’m too tired for this shit,” Matteo groaned, shaking his head as he studied me. “Judge Ryan called Grant in, thinking he could offer some assistance.”
“No,” I said, not wanting anything to do with the kind of help that he could provide. It wasn’t that he’d make a move on my woman or anything along those lines; I’d do anything to see Irina home safe. Even if that meant handing her over to another man.
It was that he had a reputation of his own, and it wasn’t something I trusted not to get her killed. He gambled large, took enormous risks, and half the time it was a mystery how he walked out alive.
“The best way to offer assistance would have been to agree to Murphy’s demands and get her home safe,” I said, giving the judge a pointed stare. He furrowed his brow at me, having not asked the questions he should have following my complete breakdown when he’d come to tell us Butterfly had been taken.
He wanted to know why I cared, but he couldn’t ask when there were more important things to worry about.
“I understand that things like integrity and honor may not mean much to a Bellandi, but they do matter to me. They mean everything to the life I have built and the kind of man I have become,” Ed Ryan said, straightening the lapels of his suit.
“More than your own daughter?” I asked, watching as he flinched back from the accusation in my tone.
“There are other ways to bring Irina home,” Grant said, stepping in and placing a hand on the judge’s shoulder. It was quietly supportive, but something in his face hinted at the inner turmoil he felt over it.
He didn’t approve of the judge’s actions any more than I did.
“Like what?” Matteo asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’ll bring in my connections. Extra men can cast a wider net more quickly, and they’re very motivated by what I’ll pay them if they’re successful in finding her and getting to her unharmed,” Grant said, holding Matteo’s stern glare.
“Mercenaries,” Matteo said, shaking his head in disgust. He employed men, but they worked for him exclusively, and loyalty had to be tested. The mercenaries Grant spoke of were only loyal to the highest bidder.
If someone came around with deeper pockets than him, they’d turn on him in a heartbeat.
“And what’s in it for you?” I asked, knowing just how much money he had to be throwing at this solution of his. Irina’s father was wealthy, but even he didn’t have the kind of cash this sort of operation would require.
“That’s between Grant and I,” Judge Ryan said, pursing his lips as what remained of my heart sank into my stomach. The smug satisfaction on Grant’s face was all I needed to see to know it wasn’t something I wanted to even consider.
“Iri clearly isn’t safe here. The last time I was in the city, I was under the impression that you were rather protective of her and would be looking out for her. You have failed to do that in a catastrophic way. Consider this your notice that you are no longer a part of her life,” Grant said, completely unaware of the way everything inside me went still.
As if my organs stopped functioning, the blood within my body stopped pumping. Everything hushed to narrow in on his casual assurance that he would be responsible for my butterfly’s safety.
“What did you just fucking say to me?” I asked, the sound of my voice seeming to echo between us. I’d barely spoken the words, fists clenched at my sides, when Matteo stepped between the two of us.
“I’m taking over her safety from here. She’ll be moving to London to open a new branch of Fresh Start under my protection,” he said, turning his stare away from me to look at where Irina’s father hung his head in his hands. Something like shame seemed to consume him, a moment of regret making him hide his face from the Bellandis—who he might speak of with disdain, but ultimately respected enough to work alongside for the betterment of the city. Grant drove the final nail. “As my wife.”
Matteo cursed, dropping his head forward as if he couldn’t believe Grant had been fucking stupid enough to admit it so openly.
“Your wife?” I asked, my rough voice seething with the rage bubbling inside me.
Over my dead fucking body.
“Grant has offered his services in rescuing her on the condition that Irina marries him once she’s healed from whatever trauma she’s endured,” Judge Ryan explained, carefully avoiding the condemning stare Matteo gave him.
The man had eradicated the need for arranged marriages within his organization, working tirelessly to make them a thing of the past. The only exception to that rule had been the agreement he’d struck between Liam O’Connell and Yavin Mahoney, a deal formed out of necessity, to protect the city.
And with the knowledge of the girl who would serve as the glue between the two families.
“And what do you think Irina will have to say about that?” Matteo asked, his jaw clenching as his own anger rose to mirror mine.
“She comes from a long line of arranged marriages. I’m sure she’ll find a way to cope,” Judge Ryan said, nodding his head toward Grant. “Besides, Grant has been the one constant in her life since she was a girl. It gives me comfort to know that she’ll be looked after if something ever happens to me.”
“We’d look after her,” Matteo grunted. “She’s one of ours.”
“The last I checked, the only way for a woman to become a Bellandi was through marriage, and I don’t see anyone stepping up to protect her,” Grant argued, his little smirk twisting something inside of me.
I’d moved before I realized what I was doing, closing the distance between us and crashing into Grant. We hit the opposite wall, my forearm pressing into his throat and the barrel of my gun suddenly pressing into his temple as he sneered up at me with a hate-filled glare.
“You can hit me all you want, but nothing will change the fact that it’ll be my bed she spends the rest of her nights in. All because you never fucking deserved her in the first place,” he said with bitter triumph.
“The difference between us is that I know I don’t deserve her. You’re too fucking stupid to realize you’re the same as me, but Irina will never forgive you for purchasing her hand in marriage, like she was the prized cow at auction. You destroyed any chance you had.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Even if it means she hates me for the rest of her life,” Grant said, shoving me until I stumbled back half a step.
“I don’t trust you or your mercenaries,” Matteo said, interrupting our argument and seeming unconcerned with the weapon I’d drawn. “So I’m sorry to say you will not be involved in any operations I’m responsible for. Let him go, Scar.”
“Would you if it was Ivory?” I asked.
“You two can battle it out after she’s home safe, or you could do the right thing and let her make her own fucking decisions. At this point, I hope she’s as smart as I think she is and chooses neither of you thick-headed assholes,” he grumbled, his voice annoyed as he nodded toward the door. “In the meantime, let’s just focus on getting her home so she can be pissed at the two of you.”
