Chapter 7
“Y ou could have fucking warned me,” Peter hisses after Jonathan’s revelation. As my second, I probably should have told him about the deal I cut. As my uncle and most trusted advisor, I definitely should have. But if my father taught me anything, it’s to keep your cards close to your chest. I couldn’t risk him stopping this deal before it was complete. There’s to much ridding on this.
“It was a last-minute decision,” I lie.
Alex is busy making Abigail laugh, but I know his interrogation awaits me. Thankfully, I trust that fucker with my life.
“The Old Guard is going to have something to say about this,” Peter warns, looking every bit the concerned uncle for a moment before he puts his underboss mask on and continues, “Hell, I’m going to have something to say about this as soon as we return home.”
“The Old Guard can suck my dick,” I drawl, rolling my eyes, before turning to my new wife. She’s currently doubled over in laughter at some story Alex is in the middle of telling, clutching at Cora’s arm. Owen is sitting back in his seat, looking every bit the at ease predator he is, but his eyes are sharp on me, and with a tip of his chin, he draws my attention across the floor.
Cole lingers near the door, eyes glued to my wife. Surprise, surprise. A man whispers in his ear. Based on the blonde hair, it has to be Aidan, his brother. I file that away for later.
For now, I have a bride to get packed up and ready to leave.
“Abigail, why don’t you say your goodbyes while Alex helps me grab our stuff from our room and then we can head to your place?” I suggest. All eyes turn to us, but it’s her reaction I care about—those green eyes stormy, promising retribution. She holds herself back from shooting any cutting remarks, though, tilts her head, and excuses herself.
Leaving her with her family, I take the opportunity to head to our suite with Alex, to pack our things, including her dress. This might be an arranged situation, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be hoping for the chance at a do-over one day.
My wife deserves to have that dress peeled off before she screams my name and gets lost into oblivion.
“This is where you live?”
I had assumed as a mafia princess would live somewhere fancy, somewhere crawling with security and wealth. The thought of a single woman living in some unguarded, dingy one-bed apartment, barely big enough for the two of us to stand in the living room, would have my father blowing a gasket. It’s fucking perfect.
“Yep, and it’s all mine, or well, it was, I guess. Now, it’ll belong to someone else.” Abigail looks around as if trying to see it from my perspective.
“It's...quaint.” I smirk before clocking the boxes in the corner. “You made a start?”
“It’s home. Yeah, I figured this would happen sooner rather than later. Plus, I’m a stress organiser...so…” Shrugging, she points me towards the kitchen where the last items await packing.
I roll up my shirt sleeves and get to work while she disappears into the bedroom. We work in silence, efficiently packing up her life. When she brings out the last suitcase, I check in with Alex.
“Hey Lo, what’s up?” he answers.
“You guys still helping Cole?” I ask, watching Abigail's forlorn expression as she walks through her nearly empty home.
“Nah, we finished up pretty quickly. She must have warned him, because he was half-packed already when we got there. We’re in a coffee shop a few streets away from her place. Everything OK?”
“Yeah, we should be able to fit everything in the cars and get it done in one trip, if you want to come over.” The sooner we get on the road, the sooner we get home.
“Roger that. See you soon,” With that he hangs up on me and while we wait for Alex and the others to return, we start carrying everything down. Or more like I start carrying stuff, she tries, and I tell her to get her pretty ass back inside.
By the time the four SUV’s pull up beside mine I have my car loaded up, Abigail in the passenger seat and the rest of the boxes stacked and ready to go.
“Is that everything?” Alex asks with raised eyebrows as he catalogues the small number of boxes piled up.
“Surprisingly, yeah. She’s leaving some furniture behind but other than that the place is empty.”
“A light packer, huh? See you on the other side,” he says, patting my car before getting into his own.
As much as I’m itching to get back to the compound and get to work, I can’t ignore just how spectacularly shit is about to hit the fan once the news about the merger spreads like wildfire.
“So, this is it?” Abigail breaks the silence as she looks out the window, watching the streets of London disappear.
“This is it. Having second thoughts already?”
“Oh, I’m having fifth thoughts by this point.” She laughs, turning to look at me. Fuck, her laugh is so pretty. It reminds me of wind chimes and summer days. I wonder what I’d have to do to hear it every day.
“Anything I can do to help with that? I know this whole situation isn’t ideal, but it is what it is, Princess. Jokes aside, I’ll do anything I can to make this transition easier for you, and I’ll never intentionally hurt or lead you to harm's way.”
“That’s sweet. But I don’t know you. I want to trust you; life would be so much easier if I did. But it’s hard, you know?”
“I get that. I’m just laying it out there. I’ll give you all the time and space you need. And in the meantime, I’ll do what I can to help you feel like you can trust me.”
By the time we reach Glasgow, it’s dark, and Abigail has fallen asleep. Head resting on the window as we wind our way through the busy streets of Glasgow until we get past the city limits and make our way up the mountains.
Pulling up to our compound always gives me anxiety. As a kid, this place was my prison. The only people behind these gates were Clan members, and everyone feared my father to the point no one would dream of crossing him. There was no escaping him here.
Now, driving through the gate, into a place full of people who aren’t sure if they should trust me, isn’t the most welcoming feeling. It’s nowhere near as bad as it used to be considering I’m not actively fearing for my life every second of every day anymore, but it’s still far from welcoming.
Bringing Abigail into this mess is probably about the cruellest thing I could do to my wife, but my options are limited. It’s expected of me to live here on the compound with everyone. The only blessing is that no one has access to the main house except for those I put on the list or those I invite in. Other than that, there’s not much I can do to protect her from the shit storm brewing here.
Not unless I want to start a war.
A war I can’t afford to start until I get the answers that only the Highlands of Scotland can give me.
Answers that some of these men would kill me to ensure I don’t find.