26. VIN
VIN
Fucking rosso.
It’s the only fucking thing she could have said to stop me today. The only thing.
When she goes into her room, shutting the door decisively behind her, I sit and listen to the shower water run. Everything in me wants to kick that fucking door down.
But she said rosso.
I stand abruptly and pace. It takes about three steps to cross the tiny apartment, and I pivot on my heel starting again. She’s on the other side of that wall, naked, under the water. And I can’t get to her.
I stop and stare at the closed door. I have no option but to wait for the water to turn off, which takes longer than usual. Listen to her get ready for work. Listen to the quiet between us.
Being here is a violation at this point. I want her to trust me. I need her to trust me.
Not sure how long the effects of the safe word should last, since she’s never used it outside of a sexual context before, but I’m pretty sure it lasts longer than a shower.
Fuck. I slip out the door, take the stairs down to the restaurant, and push out through the side door of the Arsenal into the cold.
Ronan is leaning against my car.
Not a surprise, really. I’ve been MIA for weeks, and his patience isn’t unlimited. He has his hands deep in the pockets of his wool coat, his breath coming out in pale puffs.
He’s alone, but how did he know where to find me? Does he have someone following me? I know I’ve had my head up Sophie’s ass for awhile, but I never stopped making sure she was safe. If there was a tail, I would have noticed.
Ronan doesn’t say anything until I stop in front of him.
“I heard you were in there.”
“You’re intel’s lacking. I’m not in there anymore.”
He nods once, slow. “Vin. I’m not here to come down on you. I’m not going to pretend to understand what the fuck is going on with you right now, but I need you to hear me.”
I wait.
“Having a woman on the side—I don’t care. That’s expected. We all do it.” His gaze is steady and I hold it, waiting for the reprimand. “But you have to be more discreet. Whatever this is—” he nods back toward the Arsenal “—it needs to end until after the wedding. After. It’s bad optics.”
So Ashlyn didn’t tell her brother about our conversation.
Didn’t tell him that I ended the engagement.
Left that to me. That means Sophie’s safe for the time being.
As long as Ronan doesn’t think there’s more between us than there should be.
As long as Ronan doesn’t know that she’s my entire fucking life.
Cars move behind him on the street, the city noise clattering around us. And it hits me how he knew where to find me.
“Did Gavin tell you I was here?”
He holds my gaze for a moment then nods.
I grind my teeth but try to keep my face impassive. “He called you.”
“He did.”
I scoff. “When did it become his job to skulk around and report on my comings and goings? Is that in his job description? Why are you having me followed, Ronan?”
“I’m not,” Ronan says calmly, but his eyes narrow. “But he cares about the woman in there and is concerned about your intentions. As am I.”
He cares about her? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
I look at him for a long moment. This man has known me for years. We drink together, fight together, drop bodies together. I trust him the way I trust almost no one outside of my brothers.
But right now, the only thing in my head is Ashlyn’s words: They bombed your girlfriend’s restaurant.
I want to ask him about it right fucking now. The Ronan I know would answer straight up, tell me the truth even if I didn’t want to hear it. But the Ronan I know wouldn’t try to kill a woman related to my family.
“Ronan.” I pull my coat tighter and look at him straight. “Did you ever ask your sister if she wants to marry me?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, which is an answer in itself. His jaw shifts. He looks past my shoulder for a moment at nothing in particular, then back at me.
“Vin—”
“It’s a simple question. Did you ask her.”
He exhales. “She understands what this alliance means. For the family—”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Silence.
When he speaks, his voice is quieter. “Do the right thing, man. We’ve all got a lot riding on this. Both of our families do.”
He pushes off the car and straightens, pulling his coat back into place. He nods once at me then walks to the black car idling at the curb, gets in, and it pulls away.
I stand on the sidewalk watching.
Do the right thing.
I look back at the Arsenal. It’s about to open and people are starting to congregate on the sidewalk in front of the door to be the first to sit down for dinner. Sophie will be in the kitchen by now, apron on and hair up, transforming into the head chef, in control and in charge.
I head back to my car, pulling out my phone. I have a call to make. Not to Tommy or Matti. Not to Ronan.
I need to find out if my oldest ally just became my biggest problem. Then I need to figure out what I’m going to do about it when I find out what I already know.
Because no one touches what’s mine.