22. Heaven
CHAPTER 22
HEAVEN
A unt Maura keeps fussing, her hands nervous butterflies as she adjusts the veil. There’s concern in her expression, just below the surface.
As for me…
I don’t know how I feel.
There’s hope.
But that spot of foreboding has grown, like there’s something lurking at the edges of everything, threatening to bring things tumbling down, things I don’t understand. Because the thing is, Matteo, that hard, dangerous, ruthless man, has been almost loving to me. He’s guided without being heavy-handed, he’s talked things through with me when it comes to my work, helped me see the bigger picture when I’ve wanted to dive into the now and rain fury down.
I could fall for him, I realize. Hard.
There’s a part of me, the little girl inside, who’s already head over heels, because he’s part fairy tale in how he is with me when we’re alone. And when we’re out. Jailer or protector. It’s a fine line, and that little girl sees the protector, the safety net of the trappings of Matteo.
I’ve taken what he’s said and run with it, and when I see my father—Matteo keeps me from Conor, or is always in the same room with us, hand near his gun so Conor can see—I never bring up what happened in that warehouse. No matter how much I’ve wanted to, I’ve stopped myself.
And now, here I am, a little part of me in love with the man I hate. The man I hated. The man I can have a future with if I choose.
One thing that steals my breath is how he is now compared with how he was before. I think he cares about me and my family. It might have started as a business arrangement initially, but it feels like it morphed into something else. Or else I’m being an idiot. But I choose to see it as he tells it. He picked me, asked for me. He didn’t have to.
And he has layers, ones I can spend years peeling back, because there’s always something else, another depth, and he fascinates me. Makes me crazy, too. Because he’s a cold asshole when he wants to be. Overbearing.
He’s also phenomenal in bed, or against the wall or on the floor…
And he can be soft and sweet, too.
In the beginning, I was caught between a rock and a hard place. I couldn’t walk away from my father’s order, knowing that my resistance would put my family in jeopardy.
Now I can’t walk away because I have feelings. Big ones.
We pull up at the church and Aunt Maura fusses again.
“I’m okay.”
Dad glances at us, then away. “Of course she is.”
“Give us a minute, Declan,” Aunt Maura says.
My father sighs and climbs out of the car and paces a few steps away. Patty comes up to him and peers over at me. But I turn back to my aunt, who’s patiently waiting. “If it’s about the birds and the bees, I’m aware.”
“Heaven.” She shakes her head, but when she looks at me, her blue eyes are both kind and filled with concern. “I know what I said to you that night you were betrothed…”
It feels like a million years ago. Since then, I’ve cycled through so much, but, as I think about it, there’s goodness there, in the shape of Matteo. Of how he’s been with me, and yeah…beyond the sex, there just might be something, and I don’t know. That big L word—love—hovers, but I’m not sure what to do with it. Time. That’s what. It needs time.
“I remember.”
“There’s duty, and you’ve always been dutiful, driven, if a little hot-tempered. You’re smart, smarter than the others, and I know this must be really difficult.”
“I do what needs to be done.”
“You’re someone I love dearly. And yes, you are that. But if you don’t want this marriage, truly don’t, we can find a way.”
“It’s a little late,” I say.
But she shakes her head. “Not yet. I’m checking, my love. Do we run off?”
“No.” I take her hand and kiss it, squeezing it tight. “I know my duty. I’m underboss, and…and…I think this could work. He isn’t what I thought.”
She breathes out and relaxes a little. “Just what I wanted to hear. I’ve seen how you look at him. And how he looks at you. Growing to love someone isn’t the same as falling hard, so…” She smiles.
My pulse throbs against my neck when my father pulls open my door.
Aunt Maura gets out, but Dad holds out a hand to me. I stare at it, then at him, finally grasping it and allowing him to help me out of the car. I gather the long white train in the crook of my arm and face him. This is the first time we’ve been face to face without an audience since it all went down. I’m not sure what I expect, but it’s not this.
His eyes look sad and drawn, and he brings a hand to the back of his neck.
“Heaven,” he says in a heavy voice. “I’m so sorry the way things turned out. I’m sorry that you have to go through with this, but I’m so grateful to you for saving our family.”
I squeeze the side of his arm. God, I’ve thought about this moment for the past two weeks. And last night I finally decided that I’d forgive him.
We’re all caught up in the machinations of the underworld’s rules and games. If I want to rule, then I need to look at it all. Not just my own little hurts. And it comes at me again, the Matteo thing. That there’s hope I didn’t have for happiness before. Personal happiness. And that’s special.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” I say.
“You’re safer with him.”
I take a breath. And say what he wants to hear, and what I weirdly think is the truth. “With Matteo by my side, the Mulligan empire will flourish. Me, too.”
He kisses my cheek and leads me into the church, Aunt Maura going first.
“Heaven, come on! We’re a little beyond fashionably late here,” Aunt Maura calls out.
Patrick lets out a low whistle as he walks over, pulling me in for a tight bear hug. “You look gorgeous, Heaven. Villani is a lucky guy.”
Niall holds out a flask of whiskey and I grab it, taking a quick chug, watching Conor out of the corner of my eye. He stands a few feet away from everyone, his arms folded and his face twisted into his signature scowl.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I mutter to Patrick.
“I know he’s a dick, but not so much that he’d miss your sham wedding.”
Or to see me gone. And I really don’t care. With Matteo, we’ll keep Conor in his place.
My father bends his head close to Conor’s ear, murmuring something that makes my brother’s eyes take on a murderous glaze. He pulls away from Dad, muttering something in a low growl that I can’t quite make out. I’m damn curious to know what the hell has his boxers in a twist.
But I can’t worry about that right now. I have a wedding to get through. And afterward, I’ll have the power of the Sicilian mafia on my side.
“Dad,” I say. “It’s time.”
He looks at me, a guilty expression on his face. He quickly clears his throat. “Oh, certainly, a leanbh . Yes, let’s go.”
The sounds of the organ music echo in the space as Aunt Maura pulls my veil over my face and steps back, smiling from ear to ear. “Heaven, your life can be anything you want it to be. We had our little talk in the car. But this is the other one. The wedding one. Always remember that you aren’t defined by whom you marry. You’re defined by who you are and what you decide to do with your gifts. And there are plenty of gifts, a stór .”
I want that, I realize. And I want that with Matteo. I want to look into his eyes and feel the same comfort and security I did after I woke up after the nightmare. I want the sweetness and comfort and warmth, as well as the heat of our passion. I want a chance to have it all. To find love with him.
When Dad and I reach the end of the aisle, he lifts the veil. My pulse rockets, and I can’t stop the smile. I can finally see Matteo clearly, and a tiny pang makes me waver the slightest bit.
I’ve only seen his real smile a couple of times. It’s bright white, and so wide that it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.
I’m much more familiar with the forced one. I’ve seen that plenty. It’s tight, tense, and not in any way etched with happiness.
Today, I wanted the former.
Instead, I have the latter.
A sudden chill slithers down my spine as Dad shakes Matteo’s hand and ushers me toward him.
He doesn’t look at me like we have something, that little nugget of special. He doesn’t tell me I look beautiful. He doesn’t say a damn word.
He just stares at Father O’Malley, going through the motions, not showing a damn shred of affection for his bride.
Just as anyone would expect from the business arrangement this is.
The wedding ceremony is over in a blur. The reality, the truth, that it’s just a business deal slams hard into me. Yes, he chose me, but I’ve gone and read too much into it. I’ve gone and let that little girl with her pink glittery hearts and dreams of white knights that don’t exist get to me.
I’m a fucking fool.
At the very least, I’d hoped for some warmth, at least a friendship, but he’s the cold, ruthless bastard who played me when we met. I guess his transaction is complete, and he no longer needs to pretend there’s anything there.
What the hell’s going to happen next?