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Da had slaughtered so many of the fuckers that parts of the Bronx were still stained red. That was one of the bloodiest gang wars in the city’s history. People had started to forget, but now Da knew we had rats, he was in exterminator mode.
God help NYC.
Da was about to make sure they knew just how deadly we were when our family was crossed.
Maybe she knew she was safer too, because her voice cracked as she asked, “Don’t you want to know what happened?”
Was she nervous? Scared of me?
Was that the best way to handle this? To keep her on her toes?
It might well be, but truthfully, that would be fucking boring and would require a level of patience that I didn’t possess.
I didn’t require affection or tenderness from her, but I wanted her to be willing. I didn’t want her to flinch when I walked in a room, and after we’d fucked, I didn’t want her to be so scared that she couldn’t sleep if I was beside her.
I was okay with a relationship that might be described as ‘unusual,’ but her fear wasn’t something I wanted to cultivate.
So, even though I was pissed at having my evening plans disrupted, even though I didn’t appreciate the SOS Lyanov had sent out on her behalf, I merely asked, “Do you want to tell me?”
I could literally feel her stress levels rise at my question, which had me rolling my eyes. There I was, trying to calm her the fuck down, and there she was, tensing the fuck up.
Talk about not being able to win.
“I—” She paused. “Victoria would never have been safe if he lived. He’d have done to her what he wanted to do to me. I had to protect her.”
As we hit a stop light, I turned to her and murmured, “You did good.”
She licked her lips; lips I wanted to bite. “I—It feels like a nightmare.”
Softly, I murmured, “Camille, if sharing helps, then share. But if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. Not tonight. At some point, I’ll expect answers. Tonight, it’s different. You saw some things I’d have spared you from if I could, but what’s done is done. I’m not about to interrogate you when it’s not necessary.
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m glad that cunt’s dead. I’m glad he’s no longer a threat to you or your sister. In my opinion,” I repeated, “you did good.”
“He’s...wasan ally,” she whispered, her confusion clear, which clued me into the fact that she thought I’d be mad at her. Hence, I guessed, the hesitation and the nerves.
I snorted. “Allies aren’t friends. They sure as fuck aren’t family, either. In the Irish world, it’s family that matters most. If anything sticks with you today, you should remember that one thing in particular.”
Her gulp was audible, and over Midtown traffic, that was saying something. “He was family though.”
I huffed under my breath. “That’s a joke if ever I heard one. The bastard had your ma killed, Camille. He ain’t no family of yours.”
She was quiet a second, before she whispered, “Family first. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
“Well, in my world, that’s exactly how it is. Just because your fucker of a father had different priorities doesn’t mean we work the same way. You’re about to become an O’Donnelly. That means something.” I shrugged. “Anyway, your father was useful in the past, but he was turning into a liability.”
“How?” she whispered, her voice soft. So soft, so goddamn silken again that I had no alternative but to turn to face her.
Jesus.
She was even more stunning than earlier on.
So fucking gorgeous that I knew keeping my hands off her tonight was going to be nearly impossible.
This woman was mine.
Tomorrow, it’d be official, but even as she sat here, both of us knowing exactly what she was, it was difficult accepting that I had to be a gentleman tonight.
Chivalry, in my opinion, wasn’t dead, and the first night she slept under my roof, I didn’t want her to have any negative associations with it. That home was going to be her haven, so I didn’t want to spoil it for her, and fucking her when she probably still had tiny specks of blood under her nails after killing her father was a surefire way to achieve that.
