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“Then this alliance will give them a reason not to attack us further,” Sienna says calmly.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.
“Arranged marriages are common for us,” Dante snaps, getting more irritated with me. “You’d know that if you—” He stops short, mouth snapping closed.
But I knew what he was about to say.
If I’d grown up in this world rather than partying half my life away just to piss off our father. If I’d been more involved—I’d know. But I didn’t. Our father had his heir. He had no use for me. It wasn’t until Dante that I’d actually stepped into this world, filling his shoes.
“Like I said,” Sienna cut in quickly, “nothing is set yet. We’ll have to get into contact with the Captain, and he might not even want to talk to us.”
That did not make me relax. “And if he will talk to you?”
“Then I think it would be a good idea.”
I can’t help it. I stand, the chair screeching back against the linoleum. “And if I refuse? What will you do? Force me?”
Sienna’s eyes narrow. “Killian, you’re my family now, but I’m still Don. As is your brother. And we have to do what’s necessary to keep this family safe. You’re no exception.”
I don’t want to listen to another word she has to say. I slam the door shut behind me on my way out, only to hear it open again. Dante’s heavy footsteps follow, trailing me to the elevator. I ignore him as we wait, watching the numbers tick by. He doesn’t speak until we’re inside, away from everyone else.
“It’ll only be a marriage of convenience,” he says finally. I don’t bother looking at him. “If you’re worried about being chained for life, you should know hardly any man has taken those vows seriously. Just don’t tell Sienna I said that.”
Meaning that most mafia men kept their own affairs and left their wives to themselves. Unless they needed an heir.
“You know why I don’t want to do this,” I grit out, barely able to control my anger. My fists curl to hide my shaking hands.
Dante’s silent for a moment. “I know. But there might not be any other way to help protect the family.” He turns to me then, and I can’t help but face him. “You’ve always wanted to join this world. To be a real part of this family more than just by name. Now is your chance.”
I sneer. “I thought my chance was being your underboss.”
“That too. But this is even better.”
“And how is this better?” I laugh bitterly.
Dante’s dark gray eyes gleam. “Because you’ll be head of the Irish mafia when that old man finally dies. And your kids would rule after you. It would forever tie the Italians with the Irish, and we’d be one of the strongest families in New York for generations.”
“And all I have to do is sell my soul to the devil,” I snap.
Dante smirks. “Not the devil—just a woman; from what I heard is hotter than hell. And,” he adds, “if you tell my wife that, I’ll make you regret it.”
I snort, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Your secrets are safe with me, brother. But I still think this plan is insane.”
The doors slide open. “Lucky for us, insane is your middle name.” He claps me on the shoulder as I step out. I watch the doors slide closed again, my brother disappearing back up into the heart of the office.
It’s not until I get back to my car that the weight of this finally hits me. I slip into the driver’s seat, not daring to slam the door shut. The Ford Shelby GT350 Mustang was my baby. I’d fixed it up myself, gave it a nice paint job of Arctic Ice, and reupholstered the seats to black.
My hands gripped the wheel, knuckles turning white as I tore out of the parking lot. They wanted me to get married. Me. As if that would ever work. Whoever this poor girl is, she’ll see how shitty this plan is with one look at me. If she hasn’t already heard about me. I’m not known for serious relationships. Hell, I’m not known for any relationships. Not sinceheranyway.
I hadn’t found a shred of evidence that she’d been at the club that night, even if I thought I’d seen a flash of red hair. That could have been anyone. Red hair wasn’t that uncommon in New York. Besides, last I’d heard, she’d left the country for Italy after university. After she left me in pieces and my brother broke her heart. I quickly blast some music, drowning out my thoughts. There’s no fucking way I’m going to start thinking of her now.
Angrily, I tear down the road, not giving two shits about the speed limit or the cops. They were paid off by my brother anyway. But it doesn’t matter how fast I drive, the thoughts stick with me. Trying to distract myself, I let my thoughts wander back to last night, back to that woman with the sultry gaze and an attitude to rival my own.
Now, if the Irish daughter looked like that, maybe I could get on board with it. She seemed like she would be fun to break. To toy with. But that’s all I would do. Women weren’t meant for anything else. They were disloyal, manipulative, and far too cunning to trust. It didn’t matter if they were hotter than the flames of hell—they were more trouble than they were worth.
And this Irish bitch wouldn’t be any different.
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