Chapter 44
44
“I don’t appreciate the games you’re playing,” Cernach spits, seated behind his desk. “Pippa isn’t yours. Riona is. I expect you to keep your hands to yourself.”
After dinner, he requested I come to his house and speak to him in his office about my behavior tonight. The imbecile played right into my hands.
“We made a deal.” I flick open my Zippo. “You said you’d keep Pippa’s name out of marriage contracts, yet you introduced her to a possible husband tonight and called them newlyweds . I don’t appreciate the games you’re playing.”
He throws out his arms. “Have I married her off yet?”
“You paraded her around and called her a newlywed. Stop, or I’ll slit the throat of every man you introduce her to.”
“You don’t want to cross me.”
He waggles his finger toward me in warning. I want to rip it off his wrinkled hand and feed it through the paper shredder in the corner.
“No one is crossing you,” I say with a bored sigh. “We made a verbal agreement. No husbands for Pippa. I want that in writing now that you can’t be trusted. ”
“On the terms of you giving me a grandchild. I want my Riona pregnant.”
I resist the urge to recoil at the thought of knocking Riona up. I’ll come up with a plan to get out of that. Possibly hire a sperm donor.
“I agreed to that end of the deal.”
“I’m very protective of my daughter. You remember that.”
I raise a brow. “So protective that you’re marrying her off to a man she hardly knows? A man you sold illegal weapons to, knowing his intention for them was to murder men?”
Cernach might care for his daughter, but he doesn’t love her.
A loving father would never do that.
“I chose you as her husband because I love her,” he fires back. “I witnessed how protective you were with Pippa. I expect Riona to receive the same treatment. She’s a good girl. You can learn to like her. She’ll be your wife and main priority.”
I slip my hands into my pockets. “Is your wife your main priority?”
He slams his mouth shut, at a loss for words.
I snap my fingers, scoffing.
I might not be a married man yet, but a husband who loves his wife would never hesitate when asked that question.
“You think on that.” I tap my knuckles against his desk. “You can answer it next time I see you.”
I turn to leave, but he speaks to my back.
“Riona will hate Pippa if she lets you touch her,” he states, full of himself. “Now, I’m not a fan of my niece, but I know she won’t let a married man touch her. This is the one time I appreciate her having morals.”
Not replying, I leave his office.
Odhrán, his underboss, stands in the doorway.
“Bathroom?” I ask.
He points toward the opposite end of the foyer .
“Thanks. Cernach asked me to tell you he’d like to speak with you.”
It’s a lie, but I don’t want eyes on me.
Odhrán is no younger than sixty, and every time I see him, he’s wearing a fedora over his bald head. A Celtic tattoo runs up his neck, matching the one on Cernach’s hand.
Odhrán nods, and I pretend to walk in the direction he indicated.
As soon as he disappears inside Cernach’s office, I turn in the opposite direction. It’s time to see the woman I’m not supposed to touch.