Chapter 1 #3
‘I’m joking. But you have to tell me something about him. Why are you so tight-lipped?’ Her suspicions should annoy me, but they aren’t exactly unwarranted. Truth be told, I remain a single pringle – miserable meals for one and pillow grinding before splitting a bottle with me, myself and I.
But she doesn’t know that.
‘It’s not like our family is normal. Dating someone who doesn’t know about our world is a bit of a risk. I want to enjoy it a little longer before you all get your blood-covered paws on him.’ There’s also the issue that he doesn’t know about our fictional romance. A minor hiccup.
‘Show me a picture at least. I need something to go on.’
I narrow my eyes. ‘Has Dad sent you to extract information?’
‘Do you think I’d ask you outright if he did?
I’d be up to my armpits in your bins and breaking into your house with a camera if Dad was involved.
’ A tendril of auburn slides over her cheek, and even the way she brushes it back into place screams poise and elegance.
Honestly, I can only put it down to me being a test batch in the womb.
All the mistakes it learned went into creating my perfect sister.
I can’t even hate her for it because she’s amazing. I love the shit out of her.
‘Fine. I’ll show you a picture.’ I pull out my phone and go to my neighbour’s social media, finding the image that most closely resembles one he might send me, and only partially showing his face.
God, Roman Ellis is nothing short of perfection. Looking through his pictures sends flutters right into my underpants, and it takes everything not to seek something to grind to relieve the pressure.
Eliza is right. I am a bloody weirdo.
Perfect, a gym shot where Roman is all lickable abs and shiny sweat. Damn it, the temptation to bottle him and spread him on my toast hits in a wave of pure, revolting desire.
Roman barely knows I exist. Sure, we pass the odd hello as we meet in the hallway, but he never looks at me. It’s always through me. Little does he know I know exactly who he is and what he’s hiding.
‘Here,’ I say, shutting off the app and pulling the photo up on the screen.
‘Damn, Mags. You’re railing this guy?’
My hackles rise, the hair on the back of my neck standing to stiff attention. Is it so unbelievable that a guy like Roman would be into a woman like me?
‘I’m not just railing him. We’re dating.’
A devious glint shone in Eliza’s eyes. ‘Then you’d better bring him to Dad’s wedding.’
Fuck-a-duck.
Flustered, I chug down my wine, wincing at the bitter taste. ‘He’s not like us. I can’t bring him home.’
‘Dad has invited Eddie.’
Despite the overwhelming din in the bar, my world seems to reduce to that one word. Eddie. Fucking Eddie Stewart.
‘Why?’ I bark out the word, louder than I meant.
Eliza shrugs, taking the wine bottle and topping up both of our glasses. ‘You’re nearly thirty. You know Dad’s rule. If you can’t join the family business, then you need to marry someone who will.’
Dad and his old-fashioned, corrupt bull.
Forced marriage went out in the UK a long time ago.
For most people. The only place it lingers is in twisted religious communities and the elite.
But of all the rich little psychos my dad could choose, he picks Eddie.
We dated once, when I was younger and dumber, and he’s exactly everything I don’t want in a man.
Dad bloody loves Eddie.
There’s no way on earth I’m going to align myself with that slimeball. I’d rather kill someone. And I really don’t want to kill anyone.
‘Taking this guy home won’t quash Dad’s rule,’ Eliza says, resting her cheek against one hand. ‘What’s your game plan here?’
‘You don’t fall in love with a game plan.’
‘Oh, so it’s love, is it?’
Pass me the shovel, because I’m digging myself a trench to perish in.
‘No. I don’t know. I need some time. Someone to take to this wedding to stop Dad hooking me up with his criminal nepo brats.’
‘Like us?’ Eliza’s fingers tighten on the stem of her glass, a dangerous look crossing her features.
‘Yeah. Like us. Don’t you ever want something different from the life we’ve been dealt? All I want is to keep working at my office job. Maybe get a dog. Fall in love with a man who doesn’t compete with me for the sickest kills. Just a normal life.’
‘Normality is just the lens through which you view the world. Our world might not be normal to some, but it’s all we’ve ever known. You can’t fight your nature, Maggie.’ Eliza reaches over the table, her fingers cold from the condensation on her glass.
Does a secret killer lurk inside me? Does it get easier to stomach after the first kill? Everything in me screams no, that it isn’t what I want.
But can you fight what you are born into?
‘And how do you think this normie is going to fit in at home? Stuck in a village full of retired mafia men and the young families of contract killers? It’s hardly the fucking Lake District. You’re being unrealistic, and I get it. He’s fit.’
He’ll have little choice.
Being that I intend to kidnap him as my plus one to Dad’s wedding and blackmail him to play along.
A truly insane plan. But what choice did they all leave me?