Chapter 35
TIERNEY
The atmosphere in the Viacava house feels different tonight.
Or maybe it’s me who’s changed.
Before, every glance his mother dished out had cut like a dagger. Every word she spoke to me was clipped, and her silence stretched thin with suspicion.
However, the second we enter the sitting area, all I feel is warmth in every stare.
Connor is already here, sprawled on the couch with a glass of champagne in hand next to Livvie, her head tipped as she laughs at something he says.
He glances up the moment I walk inside, his gaze catching mine and a sheepish grin tugging at his mouth.
Bronx’s mother crosses the room with quick, elegant strides, her expression soft in a way I’ve never seen before. There’s no hesitation in how she addresses me. No rude glare or dismissive side-eye.
“Tierney, my dear.” She takes my hands in hers and draws me in as she presses a kiss to my temple. “Thank you for joining us. I’m happy you’re on your feet again.”
The last dinner I had with the Viacavas felt like walking into a snake pit with nowhere safe to stand.
This time, she leads me away from Bronx’s side and doesn’t let go of my arm as she guides me toward the dining table.
“Look,” she says. “I know we didn’t get off to the best start…but you have my gratitude. If you ever need anything, I’m here. Livvie has settled into our way of life with a little help from me. I’d be happy to help you, too.”
“Okay.” I smile, not knowing what else to say.
I still don’t know if I can trust the woman and the last thing I want to be is a contained wife who attends charity functions for the rest of my days. That’s not who I am.
Lorenzo strolls towards us with a whiskey in one hand and a fat cigar in the other.
“You’re looking well, Tierney.” He tilts his tumbler in my direction. “Seems like we made the right call bringing you into the family. Never thought I’d see the day Bronx settled down.”
The rest of the family filters in behind us and takes their seats as two servers skirt the room with bottles of champagne, ready to refill empty flutes.
Bronx pulls my chair out, his hand brushing against my spine as I sit, the contact brief but grounding.
His mother clears her throat once everyone is in position, lifting her tall-stemmed glass as her gaze settles on me.
“I’d like to welcome our new daughter-in-law into the family,” she says, nodding in my direction. “We are indebted to you, Tierney Viacava. You’re a fitting wife for my son.”
When she glances at Bronx, a faint smile plays on her lips.
“I hope you’ll give us grandchildren soon.”
Heat creeps up my neck, and I almost choke on my saliva.
My stitches haven’t even dissolved yet, and she wants me to go through childbirth. Kids aren’t something I’ve ever thought about. And now that I am thinking about it, it’s not something Bronx and I have ever discussed.
I glance at him while glasses lift around the table.
“To Tierney,” Livvie says the loudest.
“To Tierney,” I hear Reign say further along the table.
I raise mine with the rest of them, forcing composure, even as Bronx’s hand settles on my thigh beneath the table, fingers pressing just enough to anchor me.
Christ, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
My grip tightens around the stem of my glass and my pulse spikes.
Connor catches my eye after he takes a long drink of the champagne. There’s a sadness in his eyes that could be regret, or maybe he understands I belong with Bronx now. That I’ve stepped into a new family…and left da behind without looking back.
For a second, there’s a tightness in my ribs, not like guilt, but the weight of everything finally settling.
This is what I have to do. It’s what moving on means.
I glance around the table, at the easy way they all speak to each other and the absence of tension that I grew up thinking was normal.
And it hits me like a slap.
This is what being part of a family should be like.
The moment passes as the servers move into the room, placing dishes in front of us. The conversation grows louder as everyone turns their attention to the pasta.
When I reach for my fork, Bronx’s fingers skim, gliding closer to the apex of my thighs without being obvious.
My breath hitches, and I swallow hard.
“Stop it,” I mutter, barely moving my lips.
I spear a meatball a little harder than necessary, and the silverware scrapes the bottom of the dish.
“You okay, princess?” he murmurs, leaning into me, his voice a low rumble. “You’re flushed. Is that because of me or the alcohol? If you’re too warm, I could take you upstairs and help you out of that dress?”
“You’re not playing fair,” I mutter under my breath, keeping my focus firmly on my plate.
“Making me wait isn’t fair.”
His fingers move again. Slower this time. More intentional in their paths.
I take a bite and chew just as he leans in again, his breath warm against the side of my face.
“You look beautiful like that.” His voice dips further. “With your mouth full.”
My scalp prickles, and the burning ache in my core that I’ve tried so hard to ignore these past few days catches fire.
I swallow too quickly, nearly choking, and reach for my glass to cover it, taking a sip that does absolutely nothing to cool the blaze spreading through me.
“Tierney,” Allegra says, drawing my attention back up. “Are your stitches healing well? Bronx told us he’s arranged for a doctor to visit you at the penthouse.”
I straighten, forcing composure, lifting my fork again as if nothing at all is happening beneath the table.
“They’re healing well,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Bronx has been very attentive. I’m lucky to have him.”
“Yes, you are,” she says with a nod. “And he’s lucky you cared enough to protect him.”
Inwardly, I smile at that. All it took was fifteen stitches for this woman to see me as an ally.
I turn my head toward Bronx, my expression sweet, my tone anything but.
“You won’t be feeling lucky when I wedge this fork in your roaming hand,” I mutter under my breath. “Put it back on the table, husband, before I make a scene.”
Bronx doesn’t even try to hide his reaction. A slow, satisfied smirk stretches across his handsome face as his fingertips drag just beneath the edge of my dress, close enough to make my breath catch.
“I love watching you squirm, princess,” he murmurs, just for me. “Do you think it’s hot in here? Should I open a window?”
I glare at him as Reign talks to his father about something, and Livvie chats to Connor about some guy they both know back home in Dublin.
“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“I’m not tired.” He grips my thigh, and I almost jump. “And neither are you.”
“Will your father fly over for the vow renewal ceremony?” Reign asks me out of the blue.
I look over at Connor and watch him knock back the rest of his champagne.
“He’s not invited,” I say, staring at my brother. “Don’t get me wrong… the man is my father, and I want nothing bad to ever happen to him, but I am done being his soldier.”
Connor offers me a weak smile. “And what about me, Tier? Am I invited?”
Bronx goes rigid beside me. The hand that settled on my thigh moves, and his arm snakes across my shoulders instead.
“Tell me this,” he says. “Would you take a bullet to save your sister?”
Without even a second of hesitation, Connor nods. “I’d do anything for you, Tierney. That’s why I lied. Da said if I told you what was going on, you’d try to sort it out yourself and the Murphys would cut your throat.”
His face goes pale and he sits back in the seat.
“I saw a man choke on his own blood when I was nine.” He sighs. “Remember?”
I clear my throat, recalling the guy who went up against our da. One minute he was waving a weapon at him, the next, my da’s mate held him from behind while Da slit his throat.
That was the day Connor cried so hard that he made himself sick. And the day my da looked down on him for it. Connor decided at that age to never be part of our da’s world.
“I’d never want that for you,” he continues. “I’d lose my shit if anything bad happened to you. So yeah, Bronx. I’d die for my sister.”
My stomach knots. I’ve missed my brother and deep down I know how our da works.
“That’s interesting,” I say while everyone stops eating to listen, except for Reign. He’s cutting up his fillet steak, so the knife hitting the plate is the background noise.
Connor frowns. “What d’ya mean?”
“It’s interesting that you think I’d let my guard down so you’d take the hit first.” I smile. “I’m the trained soldier, Con, not you.”
He sits forward. “Does that mean I can come to the ceremony?”
I turn into Bronx. “What do ya think? Is there enough room for him on the jet?”
When he smiles, my pulse flutters in my throat. “I’m sure we could squeeze him in somewhere.”
“He can carry my bag,” Reign says around a mouthful of beef.
“Yeah, you look too weak to carry a heavy bag,” I say lightly, lifting my glass and tipping it toward Connor with a wink.
Reign takes a drink next and chuckles. “If you were my wife—”
“She’s my wife,” Bronx interrupts. “And I’ll deal with that mouth of hers later.”
His mother clicks her tongue, and Reign’s laugh rumbles in his chest. “I’m sure you will, brother. I’m sure you will.”
“Just one more thing,” Bronx says, staring at Connor. “You lie to my wife again and it’ll be the last mistake you ever make. Understood?”
“Understood,” Connor replies. “Loud and clear.”
The conversation continues around us, voices blending into a distant murmur, the chatter fading beneath the weight of his arm around me.
I used to think his hold over me was something to fear. That it meant I’d lose myself.
But sitting here now, surrounded by a family I never expected to be part of, with his presence steady and certain next to me, I realize something else entirely.
I wasn’t losing myself. I was learning where I belonged.
My fingers drift to his leg beneath the table, stilling him for a beat, not pushing him away this time.
He presses his lips to my temple and draws me in closer.
“Are you tired?” he asks. “You want to go home after this? I’ll put you to bed myself.”
“Aren’t you going to deal with me?” I whisper, letting my hand slide further along his thigh.
He grins, and my heart bucks at the dark promise in his eyes.
“No, princess,” he says against my hairline. “I’m going to show you exactly what you mean to me.”
And for the first time since I said I do, I don’t fight what it means to be his.
The End
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