Chapter 12 #3
“Oh, yeah, now I remember.” In fact, I remember him cleaning up a body after O’Connor had put a bullet in a cop’s head at the masquerade. Eamon had joked about it. If O’Connor is a stone-cold killer, then Eamon is his mad-jester sidekick.
“If Aiden is Cian’s right-hand man, then Eamon is Aiden’s. When Aiden was assigned to come to New Orleans, Eamon followed close behind. He said it was because if he stayed in Ireland for another minute, he’d probably wind up dead.”
“How long have you been engaged?”
“Seven years,” she answers.
I do a double take. “Sev—” I didn’t think she was old, per se, but she doesn’t seem much older than my twenty-four years.
“We got engaged when I was seventeen,” she answers, before I can give in to my morbid curiosity and ask.
“You were so young.”
“Well, let’s just say I wasn’t given much of a choice,” she answers easily. “In the family, you do what you’re told, or you learn quickly otherwise.”
“Do you at least like him?”
“My fiancé?” She laughs again, but it’s a ruined, harrowing sound this time. “Not at all. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could put one of Eamon’s knives in his throat.”
“I guess we have that in common.”
“But let’s not talk about him. I’d love to know more about you.” She sends me a look over her Gucci sunglasses.
“Me?” I laugh nervously. “There’s not much to tell, honestly.”
“I very much doubt that, darling. You got the better of Aiden O’Connor. If that’s not something, I don’t know what is.”
“To be honest, I was mostly trying to keep him from getting to my sister. My marrying O’Connor had nothing to do with…
any of that. It was reckless, really. I have a problem doing things without thinking sometimes.
” I don’t know what it is about her that makes me admit it, only that she’s as easy to talk to as Yasmine.
“Whatever the reason, consider me impressed. It’s rare to find someone who will stand up to guys like Aiden or Eamon. Usually, people are too busy pissing in their pants or worshipping at their feet.”
It’s with those ominous words that she pulls into a parking lot at a chic apartment. Glittering buildings greet me as I leave the car with a valet and stride through the first floor. Her heels click on glossy black tile as she saunters to an elevator, which whizzes me up to a penthouse.
I’ve been in places like this before, and I’m no stranger to opulence, but everything from the scent lingering in the air to the furniture screams money. I thought my family was wealthy, but it seems the level of wealth I’ve married into may be more than I can comprehend.
Then again, my father did owe these people millions of dollars, so it shouldn’t be a revelation.
Mara leads me through a white lacquered door, which turns out to be her bedroom.
She points at a set of double doors that I assume lead to a bathroom.
“Head in there and strip to your panties. Some of these dresses will require a strapless bra due to their cut. I’ll pick out a few to get started, and then we can go from there. ”
It doesn’t even occur to me to argue. That’s how I find myself practically naked with her passing me several dresses through a cracked door. I’ve barely known the woman for an hour, and she’s already seen more of me than my primary care physician.
We start with a classic sheath that she nixes right away. “Too plain,” she dismisses. “I thought maybe it would read as elegant, but you outshine the dress, and that simply won’t do. I prefer for you to complement each other. You know?”
I don’t, but I change into an A-line satin accentuated with pearls next.
This she also dismisses after a moment. “No way in hell. Too sweet. I want you to be sexy, sophisticated, and unattainable. This isn’t only your wedding reception but it’s also crucial for Aiden.
” She doesn’t elaborate, and I’m too intimidated to ask for more information.
After several more, I wonder if we’re ever going to find the right one.
I almost beg her to choose any of them when she finally gasps.
The top half is a corset, lifting my breasts and cinching my waist to almost nothing.
It was a good call on the bra because I couldn’t wear one anyway, not with the drawstring front that leaves a strip of skin bare from my naval to my cleavage.
Satin material clings to my hips, bares my thigh with a daring slit, and falls to my feet.
“This is definitely it,” she says. “It’s the perfect amount of sexy and elegant.”
I lift my brow in the reflection of the dressing room mirror. “And we want me to look sexy at my wedding reception?”
Mara’s throaty chuckle fills the small space. “We want you to look like someone everyone wants, but can’t have.”
“If you say so,” I answer. “It’s a beautiful dress. Thank you for helping me. I like shopping, but I appreciate someone else’s expert opinion for occasions like this.”
“It wasn’t without a reason. I have a favor to ask.”
A ball of apprehension twists in my stomach. “A favor from me?”
“I’m worried about Aiden. I know you have no reason to trust him, but if he comes into any trouble, any at all, I want you to call me. Give me your phone, and I’ll put my number in.” If she’d asked, I may have said no, but I find myself passing her my phone without complaint.
Her red nails flash as she taps the screen to put in her contact. “Why are you worried about him?” I ask when she hands it back to me. I text her so she has my number, just in case.
She huffs out a laugh, and her lips twist to the side. “There’s always a reason to worry about him. He’s Cian’s favorite,” she makes quotation marks around the word, “if he could have one, you know? But he’s not the sort of person you want to find yourself attached to, if you know what I’m saying.”
Thinking of my father, I nod. “Aiden mentioned he may retaliate for what we’ve done.” I press a hand to my bare throat. Isn’t that something I should want? If he’s taken out and I stay away from the crossfire… that’ll be good for me. Right?
“A man like Cian doesn’t tolerate big moves without his prior approval.
” She lifts a shoulder. “I could be wrong. Maybe he won’t care.
But a man like Cian hates being outmaneuvered.
And even worse when a woman has a hand in it.
I don’t want to frighten you,” she pauses, shrugs, “then again, fear is a good motivator. You should be frightened. These aren’t people who fuck around. ”
“Aiden can take care of himself.” I shiver at the memory of him killing Dufresne.
“Ah, yes, your little tryst at the masquerade,” she says.
Jesus, fuck. Can the woman read my mind?
“Aiden may be his enforcer, but Cian is the kingpin of one of the most powerful crime families in the world. In Ireland, he may as well be king. There isn’t a pie he doesn’t dip his finger in.
If you want to have a business, run drugs, guns, or hold a political office, Cian’s approval is a must-have before you do. ”
I swallow hard, suddenly feeling like the corset I’m wearing is too tight. “And if you don’t?”
“Then you’re dead,” she answers simply.
A chill rolls over me. “And what does O’Connor have to do with it?”
She sighs and ruffles her hair with a hand as she gathers up the discarded dresses to put them back on their hangers.
“If he had the balls, he’d kill me for telling you, but because he’d never touch me, I’m going to tell you anyway.
Aiden’s father, John O’Connor, was the original kingpin.
Cian was his best friend. When John and Cian began to disagree on how the organization should be run, Cian slit his throat. ”
I’m frozen to the spot as I listen, imagining Aiden as a boy. What growing up like this must have done to him. Is that why he can be so commanding? So cold and ruthless?
“Anyway, Aiden witnessed the whole thing. Cian made him and his mother watch his father bleed out. Kept them restrained so they couldn’t help or get away. It basically drove his mother insane. She loved John O’Connor with every fiber of her being. If you believe in love, that is.”
“Cian sounds like a monster,” I say in a hoarse voice.
“He’s worse,” she promises.
“You think he might kill Aiden next? If that’s the case, why hasn’t he done it already? He’s had years. Why keep him around?”
Mara huffs out a laugh and takes the dress I’ve been clutching from my hands.
I follow her out of the bathroom as she places them back in her closet.
She leads me to an elegant office and shuts the door behind us.
I turn down an offered shot of vodka, I think, and after she knocks it back, she continues.
“Because he’s a twisted fuck, darling. After he murdered John and let his body rot in the courtyard for nearly a week, Cian forced Aiden’s mother, Mary, to marry him.”
His poor mother. The little girl inside me who wants nothing more than to be held by my mom one more time can’t fathom being separated from her, forced to endure her suffering for ages.
Even worse, his mother watching the man she loves being murdered by his best friend and then being forced to marry his killer.
“Exactly. And it’s not like Aiden could do anything about it.
He was only fourteen at the time, still a kid.
If he’d gone against Cian, Cian would have killed him without hesitation.
I think it amused him, honestly. To watch Aiden suffer.
If Cian ever got a whiff of Aiden rebelling, he’d punish his mother.
Cian never had to put a hand to Aiden because he used his mother as a whipping boy. ”
“Why would Cian care about Aiden rebelling as a literal teenager? Why punish him if he didn’t do anything?”
She stares off into the distance like she’s recounting a memory. “For one, because I think he’s a sick bastard who enjoys breaking someone down. Each time Aiden did something wrong, Cian got to take it out on his mother. He’s the definition of a sadist, and Aiden is his favorite toy.”
“And for another?” I prompt.
“Cian knew that as Aiden grew up, fueled by hatred and a thirst for revenge, he would eventually come for him—unless Cian broke him first.”
“And you think Cian will see our marriage as Aiden doing something against him?”
“Honey, that’s exactly what Aiden was doing.
Getting married means he has to go home to Ireland to introduce his wife to the family.
” Mara pours another shot of vodka for herself and one for me.
When I shake my head, she insists. “Trust me, you’re going to need it.
Sláinte,” she says, knocking my glass with hers before we both tip them back.
The liquor trails down in a line of liquid heat through my chest and pools in my stomach. “Why does going back to Ireland have any significance?” I ask when I can breathe again.
“Because it means Aiden can see his mother,” Mara says, replacing the bottle and stacking the shot glasses by a small sink.
“That’s good, right?”
Mara pushes to her feet, grabbing her purse.
“Aiden hasn’t seen his mother in ten years.
The only thing he cares about in this world is Mary O’Connor.
His plan is to spring this marriage on Cian so he can see her for the first time since he was a teenager during the required introductions to the rest of the families in the organization.
He’ll never tell you that, but I will. If you fuck this up for him, you won’t have to worry about Aiden at all—because I’ll be the one to fucking kill you.
” She gives me one last lingering once-over as I try to discern if she’s joking or not.
“Now, you’re going to knock ’em dead tomorrow. Aiden won’t know what hit him.”
I don’t know whether I want to recommend my therapist to her or ask her to be my friend.