28. Darragh
Chapter 28
Darragh
V alentina looks so good when she’s in a wet swimsuit that it should be classified as a goddamn criminal offence. Outside of what has now become my nightly habit of pulling myself up to her balcony when she’s asleep, I haven’t seen her during the daytime for two weeks.
It’s been two weeks of preparing for this meeting with her da. Two weeks of gathering information, shoring up intel, and making plans.
Two weeks of jerking off to that red ribbon I stole and the memories I hoard like a miser.
I’m not pining.
But I am in fucking pain.
I called this meeting with Vincenzo Titone so I can hopefully, finally put myself out of my misery.
Or just throw myself headlong into it. Who the hell knows at this point? Valentina is the suffering, at the same time that she’s the salve.
Rowan is waiting in the hall already, as is one of Vinny’s men. I don’t know the guy’s name.
“What a shame,” I say as the four of us enter Vinny’s office. “I was so looking forward to seeing Elio again.”
“So you could put his kidney out of commission again?” the Titone boss says sarcastically. “He almost died of that infection, you know.”
“I didn’t know, actually,” I say with a smile. “But I’ll certainly treasure that little tidbit of information now that I’ve got it.”
He stiffens as he reaches the chair behind his desk. He’s not a tall man, but he’s got presence. Bulky shoulders, thick black hair and brows, and one hell of a glare.
“What the fuck do you want, Darragh?” he snaps. He waves his hand in a vague gesture indicating the room we’re in, and I realize I’ve seen Valentina do something very similar. “I’ve invited you into my office. My home. You said this was something important.” He sits in his chair, his hard eyes never leaving me. “But if you’re just here to fuck around and insult my family, you can take your pale Irish ass right back out my fucking door.”
“Not that pale,” I insist, glancing down at myself. “Been working on my tan. Bought myself a cottage recently.”
“I really hope you didn’t come here to tell me about a fucking cottage. I don’t let anyone waste my time. Not even another boss like you.”
“You’re right, Vinny,” I reply easily as I lower myself into one of the leather chairs across from his big wooden desk. “I’m not here to tell you about my cottage.”
He clasps his hands together on the desk, his biceps bulging. He’s not a young guy anymore, but this life must be keeping him young.
“Only people in the family call me Vinny,” he warns me.
He doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll be his family soon enough.
As his most precious and despised son-in-law.
“And what about allies?” I ask coolly. I watch Vinny’s guy position himself beside the desk. Rowan stands on my left. I know that both of them are ready to reach for a gun at a moment’s notice.
“Allies?” Vinny’s brows pinch together, creating a deep furrow on his forehead. “You nearly killed my heir. Your men shot at Elio in public last winter. And you threatened my daughter-in-law.”
“Daughter-in-law. You mean Deirdre.”
“Of fucking course, I mean Deirdre,” he scoffs. “Elio and Curse are sons to me. So she’s a daughter to me now.”
He’s bullshitting me, of course. Not about Elio and Curse being like sons to him, which I’m sure he means. But I know he doesn’t give two shits about the O’Malley – now Titone – girl. From what I heard, he objected strongly to the marriage.
But she’s part of the Titone famiglia now, whether he likes it or not. And his protection extends even to her now.
“I’m no threat to Deirdre anymore. Especially in light of the proposal I have for you.”
Proposal. Even the word sounds matrimonial.
A part of me still can’t believe I’m doing this.
“Give me your terms,” Vinny says, gruff and straight to the point.
Two can play at that game. Turns out I don’t have any more patience for pleasantries, either.
I suddenly need to know, with a ferocity that makes my dick twitch and my head pound, if he’s going to agree to this shit or not.
If he does, I’ll have a new fiancée within the hour.
If he doesn’t…
I’ll just have to find another way. Fuck the consequences and just take her by force, I guess. Kidnapping a bride was good enough for his precious Elio, after all.
“I know the Russians are moving in on you,” I say, dropping the smile. “I know about the dealings they had with Dario Fabbri, the man you intended for Valentina to marry. I know they’re trying to grow and consolidate power right now.”
Gotta hand it to old Vinny. He doesn’t bat an eye. No sweat on his brow. Nothing to give his thoughts away.
He doesn’t reply. He merely lets tense quiet fall between us. I don’t mind it, but I could see how another man might be shitting his pants with that kind of silence accompanying that sort of stare.
Eventually, he leans back in his chair, his eyes still drilling into me. The leather squeaks.
“You’re not scared of any fucking Russians,” he finally says. “And you’ve never been one for alliances. You’re a loose cannon, Gowan. A mad dog in the streets somebody should have muzzled by now. So tell me, right now, why you want this alliance. Or, at the very least, tell me exactly how you plan to fuck me up the ass with this deal.”
“I never said I want the alliance,” I tell him flatly. “But you’re going to need it, and soon. Because from what I hear, it’s not just Russians stirring up shit for you, but bikers in Québec as well.”
He inhales sharply. He’s insulted by my words.
But he knows they’re right.
“So you’re willing to throw your support behind me? Let your soldiers bleed for me if it comes down to it? For an alliance you don’t even care about?” he asks sharply. “Why? Out of the goodness of your goddamn heart? Because we all know that you don’t fucking have one.” He leans forward and plants his palms on the desk. “Tell me what it is you really want.”
I pause, wondering if I should offer more terms first. Or if I should try to corner him just a little more tightly than I already have.
But my patience is thinning. Like a ribbon scraped one too many times by a knife. Threads are exposed. And they are snapping.
I need to know if Valentina is going to be my wife with his blessing, or at least his grudging approval.
Or if I’m going to have to spill some fucking blood and steal her.
“There’s only one thing I want from you,” I tell him.
He stills, waiting for the impact.
One little word. A single name.
It feels like a prayer.
And a fucking curse.
“Valentina.”
For the first time in our conversation, surprise registers on his face. His expression goes slack for a moment, like I’ve sucker-punched the sense right out of him.
Actually, I think Vincenzo Titone would react more quickly to a sucker punch than he had to this. He stares at me, his breathing suddenly heavier in the quiet room.
“Valentina,” he finally repeats. There’s a red flush creeping up his neck. I wonder if he’s picturing jumping across the table to strangle me. I feel Rowan’s body bristle at my side, ready for action.
“Yes.” I sound more calm than I am. My blood is burning through me. My skin feels too tight. I want to get up. Pace the room. Punch someone. But I need to project emotionless authority right now. Men like Valentina’s father can smell desperation on a man as surely as they can smell roses or coffee or pussy.
“You want her, how?” Vinny asks, and there’s a bullet of warning in the words. “Everyone knows you’re one sadistic fuck. I’m not handing my daughter over to be tortured or killed by you just so I can get a few Irish with guns on my side.”
“Tortured and killed? Who said anything about that?” I ask him. “I have no interest in making myself a widower.”
I did, once. Toyed with the idea of killing her, when this was all just starting out.
But killing her won’t save me now.
Marrying her probably won’t, either.
But it’s the closest thing to salvation that a soulless fuck like me is going to get.
Shock hits Vinny for a second time. He’s fighting to keep up. Trying to see what my angle is.
Trying to see why I’d take her as my bride.
He’s a clever man. But I think he’s the sort of man who is exceptionally good at reading patterns. He knows what moves a man might make because he knows the man.
I’m making a move that no one could have expected me to. Least of all myself.
I’m breaking my own fucking rules.
“You want to marry her.”
“I do.” Fuck me, even that sounds like a vow. “What better way to seal an alliance between two families than with a marriage?”
His jaw works. A vein throbs, fat and juicy, in his forehead.
“You’re not Italian,” he finally grits out.
“No,” I say, trying to clamp down on the hot, animal rage beginning to writhe inside. “But unlike the last Italian piece of shit you tried to marry her off to, I don’t have a mountain of debt to my name and a mouth made for sucking Russian dick.”
Vinny’s man frowns, takes a step towards me. No doubt he wouldn’t let somebody speak to his boss that way under normal circumstances.
But this is anything but normal. For any of us.
Vinny raises his hand to stop his soldier. The man returns to his position. My future father-in-law rubs a hand along his hard jaw.
“So, you want to marry Valentina. And in doing so, forge an alliance between our families. Which includes supporting me with your men and weapons in any potential future conflicts.”
I tip my chin down and then back up. A single nod of acknowledgement.
“I don’t know why the fuck you’re suddenly so hellbent on Valentina, but it’s a good fucking deal, on the face of things.” He drops his hand from his jaw, studying me. “Knowing that you won’t be a thorn in my family’s side, that you would be bound to us going forward… This would be a boon to me, I won’t lie. But I won’t lie about this either, Gowan.” He pauses, then shakes his head. “I don’t trust you.”
“I honoured my deal with Elio,” I remind him tightly. I’m going to lose my fucking cool in a minute. Valentina’s only on the other side of a few walls and doors. And I feel like there’s an ocean between us. “I told him I wouldn’t come after Deirdre again. And I didn’t.”
“You didn’t,” he concedes. “But that was then. And this is now. What assurances do I have that you’ll honour a deal with me? That you’ll keep your word even after you’ve married my daughter?”
“You want to test me?”
A gleam enters Vinny’s gaze.
“I want Halifax.”
From the corner of my eye, I can see Rowan crank his head, ever so slightly, to glance at me. I don’t return his look, keeping my gaze straight ahead and on Vinny.
“You want Halifax.”
“The port.”
Ah.
It’s all clicking now. If shit goes even more sideways for him in Montréal than it already has, he’s going to need to diversify his avenues of receiving and moving product.
“I know you have territory and connections out east,” he goes on. “You get me access. You get me deals to move what I need to move – safely, discreetly, and without being tampered with – and then we’ll talk.”
“We’re talking now.” I stand, because I can’t fucking sit in that chair any longer. My bones feel like they’re going to snap right through my skin if I stay still for one more second. “We make the deal today. If I agree to get you Halifax, then Valentina is already mine. We are officially engaged from this moment onward.”
Vinny doesn’t move from his seated position. He thinks for a long, long time.
Then, he nods and stands.
“Get it done,” he says. “And when you come back, you come back with a ring.”