8. Emily
Standing in front of a full-length mirror, I admire my reflection. The material of the dress is soft against my skin. My hair is in an updo to accentuate my slender neck. The neckline shows just enough cleavage to be seductive yet elegant. My make-up is simple and natural. The necklace Liam gifted me sits against my chest. I thumb the pendant and a small smile spreads over my lips.
I’ve always had a love for butterflies. Despite being small, they’re hardy. Some migrate for miles upon miles through windy climates and over the Great Lakes to make it to their homes in Mexico. They’re also beautiful beyond words and gentle.
It feels like we are one in the same.
My bedroom door opens, and my ma slips inside. She wears a stunning floor-length navy-blue gown. The A-line cut highlights her beautiful figure. My ma is absolutely exquisite.
“Wow, ma. You look beautiful.” I walk over to her, and she pulls me into her arms.
“And you, a leanbh look remarkable.” Her Irish accent is thick due to her continued residency there.
She pushes a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. Her eyes are tender with love.
“Have you spoken to that Liam boy?” she asks softly, and I blush.
“Da and Declan have him running around with different jobs.”
She hums. “I spoke with your father about him.”
My heart skips a beat but then plummets when she gives me an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, Emily. He refused to listen to me when I mentioned a relationship with him.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Did he say why?”
She shakes her head slowly. My shoulders slump as sadness begins to seep into my veins.
My ma hugs me tightly. “Your love will come, Emily. Let’s head down to the party and focus on the good.”
She wraps her hand around mine and we walk out of my room.
Soft music, the clinking of glasses, and the voices of conversation fill my ears when I step into the ballroom. People from all over the underground have come to celebrate my ma coming to the US. She’s beloved by many, which is heartwarming. My ma has been a part of this world her entire life and she’s no feeble wife. She’s a force all her own.
In Ireland, she helps run a small section of the mafia that was left to her by my father. She commands her circle with such ferocity and passion. It fills me with pride to know I have such strong parents.
I only wish that strength was something I had. No matter what I do, I can’t find it in myself to be violent. I’m a caged bird in a world surrounded by some of the world’s most dangerous men and women.
As I’m scanning the room, I feel the thrum of electricity travel down my spine causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand straight. I know it’s Liam before I turn around. I always feel him everywhere before I see him.
I force myself to avoid looking for him. Not in a room where my secret attraction will be noticed, and assumptions will be made.
My mother and I meander through the throng of powerful people. Some of the men eye me like I’m a slab of meat and it makes me feel queasy.
“Emily, come here. I have someone I want you to meet.” My father holds his hand out. I spare a glance at my ma and while she smiles at me, her eyes are filled with apology. My brows furrow and she shakes her head the slightest bit.
Placing my hand in my father's, I’m pulled to his side. Two men stand in front of us. One is older, about my da’s age with a thick head of peppered black hair. His assessing gray eyes are framed with black eyelashes. He’s tall with a slender but muscular build. I would say he’s attractive, but he makes me uncomfortable with how his eyes travel over me.
The man to his left is a near-carbon copy of him, just closer to my age. He also watches me with interest that I don’t quite like.
“Emily, this is Mr. Monroe and his son Ryan.”
“Hello.” I greet, timidly.
Ryan smiles at me and holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Emily.”
“Officially?” I ask with a glance at my father while shaking Ryan’s hand.
“Why don’t you two go dance?” My father suggests, ignoring my question.
My brow raises but I allow Ryan to pull me toward the dance floor. He places his hand on the small of his back. His frame towers over mine despite the heels I’m wearing.
I can feel the blistering heat of Liam’s eyes on me, but I resist the urge to search for him.
My dad has encouraged me to spend time with Ryan throughout the entire night. It’s very odd considering he’s never encouraged this before.
Does this mean Ryan will be who he decides to marry me off to?
Sure, Ryan is handsome and nice, but there is no spark. No desire to be close to him like I have with Liam. But I guess now is the time for me to do my mafia princess duty and help form an alliance with whomever my father wants.
Ryan tells me that he’s twenty-five and is the CEO of his father’s banking empire. He gloats about all of his materialistic possessions which is a major turn-off.
Do women really find that attractive?
They must if he thinks that’s a way to woo me.
I internally eye roll when he goes on and on about all the money he makes and how successful he is.
I get it, dude. If you weren’t, my dad wouldn’t want us to interact.
“Emily.” My ma’s voice chimes, and I internally throw a fist into the air at being rescued.
Turning to her, she gestures for me to follow, and I do.
We walk down the long hallway toward my bedroom, and the entire time, she sends me mischievous smirks over her shoulder.
“What are you up to?” I ask playfully.
“You’ll see.”
She stops in front of my door and shoots me a wink before swinging the door open.
Liam is standing in the center of my bedroom. My eyes quickly shoot to my ma’s, and she nods her head in Liam’s direction.
“Go.” She whispers.
“But what about the party?”
She scoffs, “I’ll handle your father. Go mo stór. ”
I step in and the door closes with a soft click.
My heart beats against my chest like it’s trying to burst out of it. My palms are sweaty, and I feel my stomach coil from the anxiety that is coursing through me.
“You look phenomenal,” Liam whispers, his eyes sliding down my body. Every inch of my skin begins to heat.
“Thank you,” I say with a small dip of my chin to hide the redness spreading over my cheeks.
“What are you doing in here?”
He offers me a smile and then chuckles quietly. “Your ma saw me huffin’ and puffin’ in the hallway outside of the ballroom.”
“And why were you doing that?” I ask in a soft voice.
My breath catches when he steps toward me. He stops just inches in front of me and I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes.
“Seeing that snobby banker put his hands on you made me want to rip his arms off and feed them to him.”
I search his stare, trying to spot any evidence of a lie, but there is none. I can’t hold back the shiver that surges through me. My core clenches – searching for something to hold onto – and I swallow tightly to suppress the moan that threatens to escape.
I lick my lips and Liam’s eyes follow the movement.
“Liam…” I whisper.
He groans and closes his eyes, “don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?” I close the small gap between us and place my palm against his chest. His heart is beating as rapidly as my own and I love it.
When he meets my eyes, his are hooded and filled with so much heat, I can feel it burning me.
“Like you want me to throw you on the bed and fuck you into oblivion.”
“Maybe I do.”