Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
A lthough I didn’t have a plan for her, I knew I needed to protect her. Being at my house, especially with the holidays looming around the corner, which meant my dad and Ember were bound to stop by unexpectedly—I didn’t want them walking in to see Madison Ryan, er, Solis…laying in my fucking house in her fuck-me lingerie.
Everything I did was to protect her, but she was too fucking stubborn to see that, so she was trying to wage some war with me that she would never win. I was always one step ahead of her, even if that step felt like I was standing on shaky ground.
I had one more day until the priest in Isles would file the documents. The light to her room was off. She had to be asleep, and it was taking everything in me not to go over there and feel the way her body molded into mine.
Enzo walked in and sat next to me, offering me a whiskey on the rocks.
"One day," he stated, and I nodded, knowing we were running out of time.
"I just have to rip off the Band-Aid and tell them I got married and have a wife. They will both have to learn to deal with it." Enzo walked over to the small wet bar in the corner and poured himself a glass of whiskey, too.
I had no friends, a lot of rich acquaintances with power in a lot of places in the world, but no true friends. Enzo was the closest thing I had to a friend.
"How badly do you think she’s going to hate me? You’ve been with her for years." I took the glass up to my lips, sipping the chilled liquid, reveling in it, warming my veins.
"Oh, she’s fucking pissed and is one hundred percent plotting your demise in there." He gestured toward the barn house, a smile spreading into the dimples of his cheeks. "But she’s also going to eventually forgive you. I hope to God it doesn't take years again, but you two are connected in some way?—"
"Yeah, because she’s my wife now."
He smirked. "Of course, Boss." He splayed out in the velvet chair next to mine. "It’s the Irish you need to be worried about."
"I’ve been thinking about it. I have a plan…Somewhat."
Enzo cocked an eye in my direction. "Somewhat? The first time I think you’ve ever not had something concrete."
"Fuck. I know, but I think it’ll all come to fruition."
He lay back in the chair, popping open one of the cigar containers I kept for company. Italian men still preferred to live by their stereotypes and loved to roll up during business meetings.
Enzo was raised by the family, but his parents were never high enough in the hierarchy for him to have an edge up. When we were in the Alpha house together, I saw potential in him. He was always ready and willing to give whatever was needed for leadership. Since he was a year younger, once Enzo graduated from Isles, I gave him his shot. Over the years, he was tasked with my most prized and covert operation, monitoring my muse. Because of our constant communication, we’d developed this camaraderie over the years.
He rolled up a cigar, and I realized the uncanny familiarity between the two of us. We were both in all black like some fucking hot shots. We had longer black hair, but Enzo kept his cropped shorter on the sides and longer in the front. Enzo also had a few piercings in his ear and a nose ring—a little edgier than I could imagine myself.
He handed me the tray, and I declined, taking a sip of whiskey as I leaned back in my own chair.
"So…let’s hear this grand plan of yours."
I chuckled. "I know what you’re thinking?—"
He held up a hand to stop me, which normally I would take as a sign of disrespect but, because it was Enzo, I let it go…for now.
"I am not thinking anything," Enzo added. "Come on. Spit it out."
I sighed. I couldn’t just come out with it; I had no idea what the fuck I wanted to say. It was a half-ass plan, and that bothered the shit out of me.
"I am going to go over to his house tomorrow. Let him know I decided to marry someone I knew in college over the weekend. I will then go over to the Irish with a basket of apologies. Tell them there was some sort of miscommunication and I am, in fact, not an eligible bachelor. Then I will offer them your hand."
"Me?" Enzo’s eyes went wide, and he almost dropped his cigar on the ground. "You are using me as your pawn?"
I nodded. He thought about it for a second, taking a long drag of the cigar. "Lemme see her."
I got up and walked over, dropping her CV in his lap. "She’s good looking."
"I’m not doing you dirty, but with my dad giving me the family business, I want you to be my second, and therefore, it would be good for our image if we were both married. If you become my right-hand, then the Irish won’t be so offended."
Enzo gazed over the sheet a few times. He cracked his neck side to side, then stared back up at me. "Okay."
"Okay?" If I was being honest, I was not expecting him to agree to this so quickly. I thought I would need to do more groveling.
"Listen…" He straightened, then leaned on his elbows. "I want this as much as you do. I have the same thirst for blood as you. As much as I appreciated you trusting me to watch her in Isles, I want to be where the action is."
"You want to be a part of the meetings?" He nodded.
"Good." It was decided, then. He would marry her, and I would be the one to tell the Irish.
Enzo leaned back in the velvet chair. "Now, your sister? That is not something I can help you with. She’s going to be pissed and rightfully so."
I ran my hands through my hair and swallowed. "I know."
"I don't know what you see in her, Solis. She fucked your sister over and was a bitch to her."
"She was only doing it to get back at me," I added. "It was all part of some plan she tried to conjure but failed miserably."
"Yeah, but in the midst of it, she ruined any relationship she’d ever have with Ember."
I paused, letting his words sink in. "I disagree. She’s my sister and loves me. I did a lot for her when Ash died, so I think she will come around."
He laughed as if he didn’t believe me, but I had to believe my words, because Ember would have no choice. Madison was my wife whether any of us liked it.
"So, in the morning?" Enzo asked.
"Yeah. We will go to my father’s together in the morning. See you here at eight." I nodded.
Walking over to the floor-to-ceiling window, I stared out toward the pool, with the barn in the background.
"I don’t ask many questions," Enzo said from behind me. His tone was hesitant. "But, you know what you’re doing with her at least…right?"
I hesitated. No. Truthfully, I had no idea what I was doing or why I was doing it. "Yes."
It had been the easiest lie to ever come out of my mouth. "I’ll see you in the morning."
I waved him off before heading out the back door, knowing Enzo would lock up behind him. He was one of the few people on the accepted list at the gate along with my father, sister, and my beautiful wife.
When I knew I wanted to bring her back to Dansport, I had the barn outfitted with everything she liked. I wanted to make sure she had a place to feel safe, separate from the rest of the house.
Truthfully, I was half expecting to have to drag her kicking and screaming, and her coming on her own accord, or somewhat, was a surprise. I needed to figure shit out, and I needed to protect her.
As I walked outside toward the barn, the grass crunched beneath my shoes. Thinking about her waiting for me made my cock twitch.
The barn didn’t stand far from the main house. In the absence of daylight, the only guiding light was from the distant hot tub. My steps, each laden with a weight of expectation and introspection, echoed in the quiet night.
After opening the creaking door of the big barn, I ascended the stairs to the little door leading to the apartment above. The climb felt like an eternity. I approached the door with a mix of apprehension and desire, hesitating before I touched the handle. Ever so slowly, I turned it. My lungs stopped for a moment. I was desperate to see if she’d left it open.
For me.
But it stopped.
"Fuck," I muttered. It was locked. She’d shut me out.
"Fuck…" I needed to repair so much shit with so many people because of the selfish decision I’d made. This was what I got for trying to follow my own fucking heart.
The one person who could unfreeze everything I’d worked hard for had shut me out. I thought about kicking the door down or using the spare key I had stashed away in the house, but she didn’t want me in there.
Repairing this with her was necessary; I needed my wife on my side. She’d have to brag about being mine. I couldn’t have the Irish believing I’d coerced Madison to marry me because I didn’t want to marry their girl.
That was so far from the truth. My heart was once so cold—it had frozen over the moment I saw my mother dead and father gagged and bound in a chair—then I saw her fiery red hair in that small ass apartment, and it warmed. I felt something in my chest no one had ever been able to give me.
And I was fucking addicted.