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I smile at her as a thrill spikes into my guts. “It’s part of her charm.”
Dara rolls her eyes, grinning back, but her smile fades. She leans closer as Robin continues to talk about loyalty, family, all that bullshit. Kathryn hangs nearby, looking uncomfortable and out of place, not that I can blame her.
“Hey, listen,” Dara whispers, her breath warm against my neck. “It isn’t too late to back out of this deal. If you can’t do it, if you want to turn around and walk out of here, I’m with you. Finn, you don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to.”
A spark bursts up into my chest. Fuck, this girl is something else, it’s like she can read my damn mind. She didn’t need to say that, but I believe her—if I decided to leave the city, to run away, she’d stick by my side through it all.
“You’re ride or die, aren’t you?” I murmur, smirking.
“Loyal to the death.”
I put my hand on the small of her back. “Imagine how much worse this would be if I went back on not one, but two contracts with McLaren,” I say, kissing her cheek. “It’s nice of you to say that, but I’m doing this.”
She nods, looking uncertain. “You’ll be fine then. Don’t be nervous.”
“I don’t get nervous.”
“Tell that to your face.”
“My face is well aware of how I’m feeling, and trust me, it isn’t nervous. If anything, I’m barely holding back my rage over this whole farce.”
She takes my hand and squeezes it. Applause breaks out over something Robin said. “Want me to come on stage with you?” Dara asks.
“No,” I say, kissing her one more time. “Anyway, it’s time.”
A moment later, Robin gestures over toward me. “And now, as the final surprise of the night, I’d like to call our esteemed host, Finley Crowley, up here to say a few words. Finn, if you wouldn’t mind?”
More applause. I kiss Dara before walking to the stage, leaving my wife alone with Kathryn.
I’ve been managing a crew of hardened thieves and killers for years, I’ve been in highly sensitive business meetings, I’ve done hard things under immense pressure, but this right here, getting up in front of these people only to debase myself, this is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.
I’m not sure I could handle it if it weren’t for Dara, standing right up front, smiling at me. I catch her eye as I join Robin and she nods once.
I take the mic and survey the room. Dozens of faces stare back, the elite, the powerful, and it strikes me suddenly how they’re all people—they’re onlypeople, flesh and blood, bags of skin and bone, just like me.
“I had a speech prepared about bringing families together, but I think I’m going to skip it,” I say to some scattered, awkward laughter. “As you all know by now, Robin and I were engaged, but I recently broke our engagement to marry my lovely wife, Dara.” More stunned, strained silence. It seems nobody expected me to actuallytalkabout the obvious. Robin’s smile is plastered on her face but she’s giving me a look likewhat the fuck are you doing, bro. But these people all know what happened, so why try to hide it and pretend like this is something that it’s not?
Better to face it with my head up.
I continue, looking across the assembled rich and powerful. “As of today, I’m making Clive McLaren the owner of Club Hazard along with several of my other properties. I’m giving him this birthday gift as a way to ease tensions, but also as a way to own up to my faults. People are imperfect, ladies and gentlemen. People err, and in doing so, they’re presented with a choice. Live up to those mistakes or fail to own them and let the mistakes own you instead. I choose to accept my imperfections. I’m happy to say that Robin would’ve made a lovely wife, and I hope she makes an even better club owner. So please, folks, raise your glasses to the McLarens. Happy Birthday, Clive. May this gesture bring our families closer together after all.”
There’s scattered applause until Robin takes the mic. “Here, here,” she says, beaming. “Isn’t that generous of him, ladies and gentlemen?”
The applause gets louder as I walk off the stage.
Clive stands waiting in the wings, looking sour. As I approach and stick out my hand, he takes it, leaning in close.
“You were supposed to say a whole thing about how I deserve this and how sorry you are. Instead, what the fuck was that?”
“That was me not being ashamed of what I’ve done. We’re even now, McLaren.”
“I never got my apology. You were supposed to grovel, you ungrateful bastard.”
I tighten my grip on his bony hand. “There was no fuckingapologyclause. Get up there and smile, you old piece of shit.”
I brush past him, find Dara, and drag her away. Kathryn skitters after us, looking confused.
I feel the eyes and hear the whispers, but I’m finished with all that.
