6. Tessa

6

TESSA

M orning comes far too quickly. Pale-gray light seeps through the edges of my curtains, and I blink blearily at the ceiling. I cried so much last night, it feels like I have shards of glass in my eyes.

I thought about my parents arrangement over and over, guilt clawing at me. I’m not sure why I feel like I owe them something. They did what any loving parent with means would do. We’ve always been fortunate, so it’s not like spending the money had hurt them. And that’s what I don’t understand. My father worked for the mafia for thirty years. He made good money. Why are they worried about creating a secure future? I would think their future is already plenty secure.

By the time I drifted into a fitful sleep, I hadn’t come up with a resolution. Marrying a stranger in exchange for social status makes me want to vomit. Is it too much to ask to have the freedom to find my own husband? Someone I actually know and love? The fact that I even have to think about this shit is ridiculous and makes me question my parents’ feelings toward me. Am I just a pawn to them?

The thought of going downstairs and facing them makes my stomach churn. I can already picture Mom’s hopeful smile, Dad’s attempts at casual small talk, them pretending everything is fine. I don’t have the energy to play along this morning. Not when I’m still trying to process being back here.

I roll over, burying my face in the pillow. Maybe I can stay in my room and hide for a while. Or forever.

But then the faint, alluring aroma of coffee drifts up from the kitchen. My traitorous body responds, and I groan, knowing I can’t resist. Coffee is my lifeline and I swear, the universe knows it. If someone hung coffee in front of my face and told me to marry a stranger or I could never enjoy a delicious cup of bean juice again, it would make the decision much easier. Maybe it’s time to look into weaning myself off caffeine. Not today, though.

Reluctantly, I throw off the covers, my feet hitting the carpeted floor. I don’t bother changing out of my pajamas—an oversized sweatshirt and soft cotton shorts. If I’m lucky, I can grab my coffee and retreat before anyone notices me. I haven’t heard any noise in the house, so maybe I lucked out and I’m home alone.

As I pad quietly down the stairs, the soft hum of voices stops me. So much for being alone. I freeze, one hand gripping the banister, straining to make out the conversation.

“We already had an arrangement with another family,” Dad says, his tone tense and defensive.

“I don’t give a damn. You owe me, Murphy. Besides, you want to secure her future, who’s a better option than me?” a man replies, low and rough with barely contained anger. Ronan. His voice is unmistakable, and the sound of it sends a jolt through me.

My stomach twists. What the hell is Ronan Gilroy doing here? And why does my father owe him? What is Ronan asking for? Because it sounds a lot like…

Curiosity outweighs my nerves, and I force myself down the last few steps. My bare feet make little noise on the polished hardwood as I approach the living room, but when I step through the doorway, three pairs of eyes snap to look at me.

Mom and Dad sit stiffly on the couch, their faces drawn and pale. Ronan stands a few feet away, his broad shoulders rigid, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black slacks. His dark hair is slightly disheveled, and the sharp lines of his jaw are set. His rich green eyes are dark and wild. He looks pissed. And tired.

“Tessa.” Mom’s voice wavers, her eyes flicking nervously between me and Ronan. “You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. My gaze shifts to Ronan, who’s watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. “What’s going on?”

Now I’m regretting coming down in my pajamas. The sweatshirt gives me some cover, but the shorts do nothing to hide my scarred legs. No matter how much cream, ointment, or oils I’ve used, the reminders of being dragged around like a dog still show on my skin. Too late now, though. It doesn’t matter anyway. Ronan has seen me at my absolute worst, this is nothing in comparison. Even if my breath is terrible.

No one answers right away, and the silence stretches, thick and suffocating. Ronan shoots a glare toward my father, as if waiting for him to say something. He doesn’t, though. Instead, Ronan breaks the tension, his voice calm but cold. “We were just having a… conversation about your future.”

“My future?” I echo, a bitter laugh bubbling up. “That’s funny, considering I wasn’t in the room to give my own opinion on the topic.”

Mom flinches, and Dad’s mouth tightens into a thin line. Ronan doesn’t look away, his stormy eyes locked on mine. There’s something in his expression—an unspoken promise, fierce and unyielding. I don’t understand why he’s here. I’m not sure I even want to know. Because whatever it is, I don’t think I’m going to like it. Then again, what could be worse than marrying a stranger?

“There’s been a change of plans, Tessa,” my father says hesitantly. “Instead of marrying my business partner’s son, you’ll be marrying Ronan Gilroy.”

The room goes so quiet you could hear a pin drop as I stare back at them, my mouth hanging open. Did he just say what I think he did? What in the fuck is happening right now?

Unable to respond, I turn on my heel and stride toward the kitchen. I need coffee. At this point, I’m not sure this isn’t some terrible fucking dream, but coffee will fix it. I hope.

As I pour a mug, my hands tremble slightly. I take a deep breath, letting the warmth of the ceramic steady me. It’s not working, though, because it’s not just my hands that are shaking. It’s all of me. When I turn to rest against the counter while I sip on the one thing that has never let me down, Ronan is in the doorway, his gaze steady and confident.

“Can we talk?”

Is he serious right now? All this time, I’ve thought of Ronan as my hero. As the man who saved me and has been on my mind every day for the past six years. I’ve touched myself while thinking about him because despite knowing he’s in the mafia, I thought he was a good man. Now I want to kick him in the balls and tell him to fuck off.

I hesitate, clutching the mug like a shield, and then I huff out a laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “Do I have a choice?”

A flicker of something—pain, maybe—crosses his face, but it’s gone just as quickly. “You always have a choice, Tessa. But I think you need to hear this. I think you’ll want to hear it.”

“Fine,” I whisper. “Let’s go out to the porch.”

Ronan nods, stepping aside to let me pass. As we head toward the back porch, the knot in my chest tightens. Whatever he has to say, I’m not sure I’m ready for. But something tells me I don’t have a choice. Not really.

The porch is quiet, the kind of stillness that’s almost unsettling. As Ronan and I step outside, the wooden boards creak softly beneath our feet. The cool morning air bites at my bare legs. Or maybe my shiver is caused by our closeness and the scent of his cologne surrounding me. I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I’d grabbed a jacket, but I don’t move to go back inside. Whatever Ronan wants to say, I need to hear it now.

He leans against the railing, his hands gripping the weathered wood, his jaw tight again. For a moment, he just looks out at the yard. The muscles in his shoulders tense. I can’t tell if he’s gathering his thoughts or trying to figure out how much to share with me. Maybe both.

“Paige told me,” he finally says, his voice low and rough. “About the… arrangement your parents made.”

I stiffen, heat rising to my cheeks. Of course, Paige told him. I should have known she wouldn’t keep something like this to herself. “Great,” I mutter. “So now everyone knows.”

“It’s not like that,” he says quickly, turning to face me. His green eyes are sharp, intent, focused. “I don’t care who knows. What I care about is you being forced into something you don’t want.”

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsher than I intended. “What makes you think I have a choice? They’ve made up their minds, and they’ll guilt me into going along with it because they know I’ll crack and agree to it.”

He shakes his head, stepping closer. “No, Tessa. You do have a choice.”

I blink up at him, thrown by the intensity in his voice. “What are you talking about?”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m saying there’s another way out of this. A solution where you don’t have to marry some stranger for the sake of your dad’s business.”

My stomach twists, and I take a step back, narrowing my eyes. “And I take it from the little announcement in there that your brilliant idea is for me to marry you instead?”

“Yes.”

That one word hangs in the air, heavy and surreal.

“If you marry me, at least your husband will be someone you know. Someone who respects you. Someone who’ll make damn sure no one treats you like a commodity.”

I stare at him, my heart beating so loudly I can barely hear my own thoughts as they race through my mind. “Ronan, that’s… insane. You’re serious?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t have asked if I weren’t.” His gaze doesn’t waver. “I talked to Declan about it this morning after thinking about it all night. If we do this, it’ll buy you time. Time for your dad’s new venture to stabilize, time for this whole mess to blow over. And when it’s done, we’ll get a divorce. It will be a no-strings-attached, platonic marriage.”

I shake my head, taking another step back, my pulse racing. “You can’t be serious. Why would you do that for me? Why would you give up your life—even temporarily—for me?”

“Because you don’t deserve this, Tessa,” he says fiercely. “You don’t deserve to be trapped in a life you don’t want. I can’t stop your parents from trying to force you to into this, but I can turn the tables and make it work in your favor instead of theirs. When I brought you home, they told me they owed me. So, I’m here to collect, even if it fucks over your dad’s business, which at this point would be a win in my book because I really fucking loathe your parents at the moment.”

His words knock the air out of my lungs. I don’t understand him. I don’t understand why he’d go this far. “Ronan… you don’t owe me anything. You’ve already done so much for me. More than anyone ever has. Why would you?—”

“Because you’re Paige’s best friend. Because I care about you,” he interrupts, his voice raw. “Because I’ve thought about you since the day I pulled you out of that hellhole. And maybe it’s selfish, but I can’t stand the thought of you being traded to some stranger. Not again. If this is what it takes to protect you, so be it.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to let them fall. “You’re insane,” I murmur barely above a whisper. “You’re absolutely insane.”

“Aye, lass.” A faint smirk tugs at his lips. “It’ll be good for you to come to terms with that sooner rather than later.”

I don’t know what to say. My mind is spinning, my heart aching with a mixture of gratitude, confusion, and something I can’t quite name. He’s offering me a way out, a lifeline. But at what cost? To him? To me? Ronan is… He’s every woman’s dream. Tall, dark, and handsome, covered in tattoos and scars. He’s one of the top leaders of the American Irish Mafia, and he’s a billionaire. How he’s still single is a mystery, but it also might be a blessing.

“I… I need time to think about this,” I manage with a tremble in my voice.

“Take all the time you need,” he says. His tone is softer now. “At least by marrying me, you won’t have to live in this house anymore.”

My gaze snaps to his as the realization hits. Right, because if we’re married, I would live with him. With Ronan fucking Gilroy. That would be torture in itself. Possibly the best kind, though.

I’ll never tell a soul, but in the past six years, the only man I’ve fantasized about is the one standing right before me. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’ve had a secret crush on him since puberty. And now he’s offering to be my husband. He’s offering me a way out. No strings attached.

I blink several times, trying to fight the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. A week ago, I was traveling through Scotland with my best friend to celebrate our graduating from college. I thought I had my whole life in front of me. How could it make a turn like this so quickly?

Ronan is a good man. I trust him more than I trust anyone else. I’ve seen the way he treats his sister. The arrangement he’s offering is platonic, and I know he’d treat me well. Which is more than I can say about the other guy my dad is trying to marry me off to.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask, peering up at him.

He stills and turns his whole body to face me, then reaches out to cup my chin. “I wouldn’t offer if I weren’t, Tessa. One thing you’ll quickly learn about me is I’m a man of my word.”

I try not to focus on how his fingers feel against my skin, but it’s hard not to lean into his touch. It’s warm and reassuring. Safe. I’m safe with Ronan.

“Okay. I’ll marry you.”

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