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“Turns out she’s with Fabian now,” Rhett explains, and I clench my fist under the table, doing my best not to let the frustration spread to my face.
“You remember Evelyn, don’t you, Carlo? Helena Lane’s daughter, they used to live in one of the cottages.”
“I remember. Her father was a good man, a loyal one. They are hard to come by these days.” He doesn’t bother to look up from his plate. “A shame for him that his daughter has turned into a slut.”
It takes everything inside me not to stand up and ram his steak knife down the back of his throat. He has no right to judge Evelyn.
“Just because she dates Fabian Morretti, doesn’t mean she’s a slut.” I somehow manage to get the words out calmly.
“No nice girl ever dated a Morretti. That family makes a lot of money out of women. I’m surprised you of all people aren’t aware of that, Raoul.” Now he chooses to look up at me, he wants me to bite. He wants me to lose my temper. But I won’t, not around this table. Mother will have her family dinner, and anything that needs to be said to him, I can air out after.
Mother overcompensates for the next half an hour, making light conversation and avoiding any topics that might allow Father to make any more marriage digs, but when the plates are cleared and the wine is finished, even she can’t hold off the inevitable.
“Time to talk.” Father nods his head toward the door and when he stands up, I glance at my brother before I follow my father in silence all the way to his study.
“Take a seat,” he orders once we’re inside and I've closed the door behind me.
“I’d rather stand, I don’t have much time.”
“Very well.” He takes the seat behind his desk and pulls open his top drawer. Selecting a cigar from the row, he chops its end and lights it up. Then he keeps me waiting while he enjoys his first, deep inhale.
“It’s time to stop fucking around and be a man, Raoul. The Irish girl…”
“Briella,” I correct.
“She finishes her degree next month. I want an announcement straight after.”
“Announcement, to who? We don’t live in the 1920’s.”
“I want to get things moving, the longer we stall, the longer Quinn has to get out of the arrangement and find her another suitor.” Father stares up at me, daring me to argue.
“Who? You and Quinn shook hands on that arrangement years ago. And if I remember correctly, I shot a man in his throat to fucking celebrate it. Quinn is going nowhere, the Irish are going nowhere… Not if they want to keep their supply steady.”
“You act as though they need us more than we need them.” He chuckles at me.
“They do.” I stare back at him.
My father only wants them as an ally because he fears them as an enemy. The Irish may call the shots on the east coast, but Brian Quinn has pissed on a lot of people to get himself to the top. If it wasn’t for us, he’d struggle to keep feeding his empire.
“You are marrying Briella Quinn.” Father slams his fist down, his face turning an angry shade of purple.
“Yes, I shall marry Briella Quinn.” I rest my palms on his desk and lean forward. “But I will do it on my terms. If my future wife wishes to be educated, she shall be, if she wishes to have some time to enjoy her freedom, so be it. The union will happen, your family legacy will be secured, and you can toast your victory with as many Irishmen as you want. But I will not be treated like a puppet, you raised me better than that.” I don't wait for his response, pushing myself off his desk and seeing myself out.
Mother is waiting for me out in the hall, she tries to make it seem like she hasn’t been listening but she’s a lousy actress.
“Son.” Her arm entwines mine as she starts to walk with me out toward the driveway. “I know this union with Briella doesn’t please you,” she starts, pulling me to a stop before we reach my car. “But I need you to promise me something…”
“What?” I turn to look at her, impatiently. The sooner she gets this out, the sooner I can leave. I need to do something to unleash some of the frustration inside me, it’s been festering too long. I’m hoping a run or a spar with Sal will do the trick.
“I want you to try to love her, try with all your heart, Raoul. I know you try to hide it but you have a good one in there.” Her hand taps at my chest and her eyes well up with tears. “A lifetime with someone is such a long time to be unhappy. Don’t go into this marriage negatively. Go into it with some hope. Make the best of it. Briella’s a nice girl, she’s beautiful, and she will be lucky to have you for a husband.”
“Mother…” Taking her hand in mine, I pull it up to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “I will do my best,” I promise. “You must not worry, take that vacation time, and pry into what my little sister is getting up to.” I smirk, and when she smiles back at me, I’m confident that I have eased her mind.
“I just want you all to be happy.”
“I know that.” Leaning down, I press my lips against her forehead before my driver opens the door to the car for me.
“I’ll call you sometime during the week.” She waves me off, and as soon as my driver’s pulled out of the electric gates, I loosen my tie and throw my head back against the seat.
