Quinn
Our house looks utterly beautiful this evening. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it look so…breathtaking.
Mam saw to that. This is her domain. Whatever her faults, and there are a fair few of them, Bridget Delaney knows how to throw an event.
The house is lit up with beautiful string lights along with lights around the grounds themselves.
It’s like a beacon to show the way inside.
Every surface that could be polished has been polished, so much so that I’m sure you can see your reflection off every item and surface within this house.
It looks exactly like what it's supposed to look like: a powerful Irish crime family celebrating an alliance with one of the most dangerous Italian crime families in the world.
I stand at the top of the stone steps, looking out at the grounds, trying my hardest to feel present and in the moment.
Anything other than this sinking dread that’s been gnawing at my stomach since the union between Lorenzo and I was announced.
Mostly, I feel pain in my feet, as my shoes are slightly too tight.
I’m kicking myself for not listening to Mamie and breaking them in earlier in the week.
Caden appears beside me, nudging me with his shoulder. I look up at him and see that he’s wearing a wry smile. “Are you doing okay?” he asks softly. He looks handsome in his dark suit.
“Yeah,” I lie, I have no idea how I’m doing right now and with the parents that I have, there’s no other option than being okay with what’s about to happen.
I feel as though I’m about to be thrown into the lion’s den. I know very little about Lorenzo and his family. I wasn’t supposed to marry someone so high up. I never thought that my life would turn out like this, and yet here I am.
“Sure,” he smirks. “But don’t worry, Daire’s on her best behavior. Da warned her the moment she stepped into the house wearing a bright red dress.”
I roll my eyes. God, can my sister get any worse? Wearing red so everyone knows that she’s the ex, like her and Lorenzo had ever been together. They had been promised to one another, sure, it was an arrangement, and neither chose the other, but wearing red is overkill.
“Why’s Da being weird?” I ask, wondering what happened to the man who would look at me with disdain, the man who would act as though I were an imposition and not his youngest child. Now he’s watching me with interest, getting Mam and Daire to behave instead of letting them give me snide comments.
It’s freaking me the hell out.
“I’ve no idea, even Daithí’s wondering what the hell he’s doing, but don’t worry. Right now he’s team Quinn.”
I can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of me. “Team Quinn? What the hell is that? It’s usually you and me against the world. Then Daithí joins, and you’re telling me Da’s joining too. What next? Hmm, the world’s going to end?”
He nudges my shoulder again. “You’re dramatic,” he chuckles. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusted fork, thank you.”
He shakes his head. “As I said, dramatic.” His arm slides around my shoulders, and he pulls me closer. “It’s all going to be okay.”
I nod. No matter what, it’ll all be okay. There’s no other choice. This is happening, and whatever the outcome, I’ll survive.
We stand for a while, his arm around my shoulder as we watch the road.
It doesn’t take long until we see the headlights.
People are beginning to arrive. It’s time to get this show on the road.
Da exits the house, giving both Caden and me a glance before yelling for Mam.
I hear her heels clicking against the tiled floor inside the house and know she’s on her way.
"Right then," Caden says, like we're about to go into battle as he gives me a shoulder squeeze before letting go.
"Right then," I say back, trying not to grin as Da and Mam make their way down the steps and wait to greet everyone arriving.
Caden offers his arm. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the evening, and slide my arm through his.
He doesn’t release me as we descend the stairs to go stand beside our parents, nor does he release me when everyone begins to greet us.
He stays beside me, giving me the strength to get through this evening.
He knows me better than I know myself, and even though I've never spoken out loud about the nickname I've heard our da's men whisper when they think I'm not listening, or the worried tones of the house staff as they quietly discuss what that nickname will do to me, Caden knows.
He knows exactly how much it bothers me.
Replacement bride.
It's a fucked up name, one I knew I'd end up with. The moment my sister got pregnant and the arrangement passed to me, it became inevitable.
I didn't think it'd bother me as much as it does. I'm used to being compared to Dáire. Hell, I'm used to being overlooked in favor of her. But marriage is different, marriage is forever in our world.
I know Lorenzo didn't choose this any more than I did, that isn't the point. The point is that everyone knows I wasn't supposed to be here, I wasn't the original plan, I was the replacement.
And no matter what happens between Lorenzo and me, I don't think people will ever let me forget it.
The party is in full swing, and I’d rather be anywhere else.
Give me a book and a quiet corner, and I’m blissfully happy, but this?
Fake smiling and being around so many people?
No, thank you. It’s taxing and takes a lot of effort to ensure that my smile stays plastered on my face, so I look approachable and welcoming.
Honestly, I’d rather wear my ‘resting bitch face’ as Caden calls it and be done with the entire evening, but if I did that, Da would lose his damn mind and no doubt I’d end up with more bruises.
The Syndicate is out in full. Glancing around the room, I spot Cesare and Vittoria near the center.
The East Street Kings are clustered near the drinks table, looking like they'd rather be anywhere else, which is apparently standard for them at these kinds of events.
Prior's eyes constantly move around the room.
So do mine, which is probably why I notice.
The Morozov representatives are here, too.
Not Olezka himself, but Daniil and his two closest men.
Olezka's still in Russia handling business, leaving Daniil in charge of the American operation until he returns.
Rurik is conspicuously absent, which is the correct call and slightly satisfying.
It means Daire can't make the evening all about herself, but I have no doubt she'll try.
Caden hasn’t left my side at all, which I love, but also know that it’s pissing our Da off, judging by the death glares he’s sending our way. A glass is lowered in front of my face, and I turn to see Daithí joining us as he hands me the glass.
“One won’t kill you,” he says with a low laugh. “Although we all know it’ll take a hell of a lot more than one glass of champagne to have any impact on you, Quinny.”
I inhale sharply. I haven’t heard that nickname in a very long time. “Hey,” I grouse. “What’s with the name?”
Both he and Caden chuckle. “You’ll always be our Quinny,” he tells me. “I’m proud of you, you know?”
I turn to look at Daithí. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say that to me before. “What?”
“I’m proud of you. You’ve been thrown in the deep end with this, yet again, and you’re thriving. You’ll always thrive, Quinn. It’s who you are. We’re Delaney’s. When the going gets tough, we thrive.”
I shake my head. “I’ve never felt like a Delaney. I’ve always felt as though I never belonged.”
“Bullshit,” Caden hisses. “You are more of a Delaney than any of us. Don’t you remember what granny used to say?”
“That woman used to say a lot,” Daithí comments. “But he’s right. Granny always told us that being a Delaney is more than the name, it’s the spirit. A true Delaney is a fighter, someone who’ll fight every day and do whatever it takes to survive.”
“That’s you, Quinn,” Caden says. “You’ve survived every fucking day having Mam and Daire’s shit heaped on you, and you fucking thrived. You’re smart, funny, and beautiful. Everything they wished they’d be. That’s why they act the way they do, they’re jealous of you.”
I don’t think that’s true. Mam and Daire have always been this way. For as long as I can remember they’ve always been bitches toward me. They’ve always found ways to try to put me down, make me feel small, make me feel unwanted and unloved.
“What is it about weddings that makes people sentimental?” I muse, glancing between my brothers.
Caden rolls his eyes as Daithi smirks at me. “You always find it hard when someone compliments you.”
Yeah, of course I do. I rarely get compliments and my brothers are being weird. They’re worried something is going to happen with either Mam or Daire, I know they are. That’s why they’re staying so close to me.
I feel Lorenzo before I see him, which is annoying.
I hate that my body reacts to being in close proximity to him.
My stomach clenches, my pulse races, I don’t know why it does that, and I despise my body for doing so.
I don’t scan the room for him; I know that he’s behind me, and I can feel him getting closer with each passing second.
He appears at my right shoulder, and I turn to find him closer than I expected.
How did he manage to get this close without making a sound?
"Quinn," he says, his voice is low and smooth.
"Lorenzo," I greet as I look up at him. He's in a dark suit, which is all he ever seems to wear. I notice that he’s watching everyone, his expression careful and controlled. He’s got his work expression on. "Try not to scare them off."
"They should be scared," he says, the corners of his mouth tilting, giving me an almost smile.
My brothers step away, giving us space, but I know that they’re watching us like hawks. Lorenzo slides in closer to me and his hand comes to rest at the small of my back.