Chapter 42
42
Per my GPS, the drive time from New York to Boston is a little under five hours.
I make it there in less than three.
No one manipulates what’s mine and gets away with it.
Cernach might’ve used my weakness to play games with me, but I’ll be damned if he does with Pippa.
I turn down the dark street that leads to the estate’s steel gates. There’s a risk that he or one of his men will shoot me. Men like Cernach, like me, don’t like surprise visitors.
It’s a risk I’m willing to take if it stops him from marrying Pippa off to some rat bastard of his choosing.
As expected, a guard stops me at the gate and radios Cernach, who instructs him to allow me clearance. Arm guards line the length of the drive, and I resist the urge to give them the finger as I pass. Or shoot them.
Given how flashy Cernach is, his home is what I’d imagined. His estate spans at least ten acres, and trees conceal his home from any main roads. When I reach the front, a fleet of expensive cars line the circular drive.
A tall man who looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in ages is waiting for me in the open doorway. I’m surprised he doesn’t search me for weapons before waving me inside. Without saying a word, he leads me straight into an office where Cernach sits behind his desk, surrounded by a thin cloud of smoke.
There are many ways I’ve imagined killing this man.
Antonio told me I couldn’t carry out any of them.
I’ve moved up as the underboss of the Lombardi family and his partner at the casino. But at the end of the day, he makes the rules. Every action we take creates a ripple effect throughout our organization.
Even if I killed him, it wouldn’t void the contract. His underboss could insist it remain in effect. No matter what, I’m in debt with the Koglins.
“Damien,” he greets as if we’re old friends. He signals for the man to leave, settles his cigar on an ashtray, and offers me one as the door shuts.
I shake my head.
He stands, strolls to the bar in the corner, and offers me a drink next.
I decline again.
He could offer me an extra heart, and I’d also decline that.
“Surely someone taught you declining cigars and drinks from your future father-in-law is considered disrespectful.” He pours himself a glass of Bushmills whiskey.
“I’m not here for you to school me on manners.” I don’t care to rub elbows with the fucker. Personally, I’d love to watch him die.
“I’m glad you came. Saved me a trip to New York.” He gestures for me to sit, and I do. “I wanted to make sure you received a copy of the contract I mailed.”
“Yes. I burned it.”
“Don’t you worry.” He chuckles, returning to his chair and settling his drink on the desk. “I have plenty of copies.”
I shift in my chair, not saying a word .
“Do you remember everything in it?”
“Word for word.”
“Clause number two?” He swipes his cigar from the ashtray.
“I will marry your daughter.”
“Clause three?”
“You go fuck yourself.”
“Clause three is you keep your hands to yourself when it comes to other women, at least until after your wedding.” He straightens his back, and ashes fall on his belly. “I won’t have my Riona embarrassed by your infidelity, especially with a woman in our family.”
I smirk. “Don’t worry, Cernach. I won’t fuck your wife, if that’s your concern.”
He points his cigar in my direction. “Remember who helped you when no one else would.”
“You helping us is why I signed your contract.”
“You can’t blame me for using someone’s moment of weakness against them. You would’ve done the same.”
He’s right.
I don’t know a man who wouldn’t have.
“I’m here to discuss something with you.”
He raises a brow.
“You won’t marry Pippa off.”
“Ah, I figured you’d be upset about that. If she told you, you’re already breaking clause three.” He levels his eyes on me. “You can’t have her, do you hear me? You’ll marry Riona and never touch Pippa again.”
I work my jaw.
He moves in closer. “Since I love making deals with you, here’s another.”
I lean back in my chair, crossing my legs, already knowing this deal will piss me the fuck off.
“I won’t draft a marriage contract with Pippa’s name on it until six months after your marriage if you get Riona pregnant. You do that, and I let Pippa off the hook.”
There’s an urge to snub that cigar out on his face.
“Do we have a deal?”
“Yeah, we have a deal,” I snarl before standing and leaving his office without another word.
On my way toward the front door, I run into Riona.
We’ve never met in person.
I only know what she looks like because Julian Googled her to see what my future wife looked like.
Riona isn’t bad to look at.
She just isn’t Pippa.
That’s the ultimate turn off.
There are similarities between them.
If we marry, all I’ll think about is Pippa.
“Hi, Damien,” she says. “My father never formally introduced us.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“I have a tight schedule.” I walk away and yell, “Maybe another time,” over my back.
We do need to have a chat.
Get her pregnant within six months.
Yet another sacrifice I have to make.