AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What did you think of him last night?”
“See?” Viv carried the bowl and spoon she’d been using over to the sink, dunking them both in warm soapy water. “That’s the thing I’m avoiding.”
“That bad, huh?”
Leaning back against the counter, Viv crossed her arms over her chest. “Not bad. He seems to want this about as much as I do. Which, somewhere deep down, feels like it should be a good thing. It means he doesn’t want a plaything to amuse himself with.”
“But?" Sofia prompted.
“But this marriage is for life. Our family doesn’t do divorce. His family certainly doesn’t. I guess I was hoping for something a little…more.”
Admitting it hurt more than she wanted it to and she rubbed at her chest to ease the ache. Neither of them had chosen this, but he’d snuffed out the only bit of hope she had that he had a vested interest in making it bearable.
“You don’t always have to put yourself last, you know. Maybe Papa could—”
“No,” Viv snapped. “He couldn’t. And we both know that.”
That had been Sofia’s favorite argument since their father sat the entire family down and informed them of the marriage he’d arranged with Declan Callahan. A marriage that would forever tie the syndicate and the Mafia together in a way no two crime families were linked in the city.
Not that arranged marriages never happened. The Russians and the Greeks still relied on them heavily. But this one expanded Callahan reach in a very tangible way and, ostensibly, for generations. Blood ties.
She’d blanched when her father first used the term. She knew instantly it meant babies. Before she’d even met him, she was expected to bear his children, and if he had as much interest in being a father as he had in being a husband, then it was likely to be as lonely an undertaking as her marriage now seemed to be.
Motherhood had never really been something she’d dwelled on in the past, but for the last week it was all she could think about. Would she be a good mother? Did she even want to be one? Would she love a baby born out of necessity rather than love? She hoped so. She didn’t seem to have any choice in the matter. It was this or risk her family’s lives.
“You didn’t have to make biscotti fresh,” Sofia said by way of an apology. “We have some in the front case.”
Viv offered a small smile. “I know. But Libby said cranberry orange biscotti are Evie’s favorite, and I needed the distraction.”
If Viv wanted to get at least one Callahan to like her, she’d go for the next best thing to her future husband—the matriarch and queen. Hopefully the way to Evie’s heart was through her stomach.
* * *
Sofia dropped her off at Glenmore House and left her standing at the front door. Viv had been asked to come to this one meeting on her own, although Evie had assured her that her mother and sister could come to others. They were supposed to meet them later this morning to look at venues. The entire thing was painfully surreal.
Viv shook her hand to keep it from trembling and reached out to ring the bell. She felt awkward waiting in the early morning chill, cold fingers gripping the edges of the navy blue bakery box. She heard the dull thud of the deadbolt sliding out of the way moments before the door swung in. Her smile faltered when she realized it was Aidan and not Evie or a maid.
“You’re early. Good for you,” he said, stepping back from the door so she could enter. “Is that for me?”
She followed his gaze to the box in her hands. “No.”
His expression faltered, but he said nothing as he closed the door and walked ahead of her toward the back of the house. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved sweater that hugged his chest and stretched tight over his shoulders. Did he have to be so hot? The asshole.
“This way,” he called over his shoulder when she didn’t follow.
Suddenly grateful she was several paces behind him, she let herself openly gawk. Glenmore House was as beautiful as she imagined it to be. A Gothic-style manor home that had been meticulously preserved throughout the decades. She imagined all the intricately carved woodwork was original, and if the plasterwork on the ceiling wasn’t, it was a perfect replica. No one could say the Callahans didn’t take care of their things.
She walked over rich, antique carpet past a formal living room with white couches and a huge fireplace, what looked like a smaller sitting room, and several closed doors. They turned a corner, and she had a quick minute to muse if they were in some kind of wing before he took another sharp turn into a huge solarium.
He stalled at her sharp intake of breath but kept going until he claimed one of the high-backed chairs flanking a large, rectangular coffee table. The room was beautiful. Big, wide windows were set in wrought iron frames.
It looked over the back of the estate and offered a panoramic view of the grounds. Two double sets of French doors, one on either side of the room, opened onto an expansive deck that seemed to stretch over most of the back of the house.
Beyond the deck, a manicured lawn spread in gently sloping hills to the tree line, alive with the bright colors of autumn. She imagined it would be beautiful in winter, blanketed in fresh white snow.
At a noise behind her, she looked up to see Aidan watching her carefully from where he sat in his chair. She felt heat flood her cheeks and deliberately turned away from the view to take a seat.
“Oh,” Evie said as she rushed in, smoothing a hand over her curls. “You’re both here already. Good.”
