Chapter 3
Rian
One look at Aodhan hovering near the front door and my knuckles tighten over the steering wheel. My chest aches at what’s possibly waiting for me in the home I’ve grown to hate lately. I park, flexing my fists as I climb out of my vehicle and unbutton my suit jacket before tossing it onto the seat. I roll up the sleeves of my white shirt, ensuring the gun at my back is secure, and walk to my second in command with my hands in my pockets.
“How bad?” I ask as I step onto the raised landing in front of the large oak double doors. The silver knockers with large lions look menacing, but really my mother installed them because they reminded her of Narnia.
Aodhan’s dark eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head before moving out of the doorway so I can step through. It’s dim like always, the light disappeared the moment my mother was gone. The stench of stale air is another reminder of the vast difference from the sweet and savory scents that used to saturate these halls.
I blow out a tense breath and head up the stairs where I know my father is resting in his chambers.
“Doc doesn’t think he can survive another one. And if he does, there won’t be much left of him,” Aodhan says, the somber tone weighing heavy on us both.
“Bring Cillian home for good. If I have to bury my father in a public show, I need you both by my side,” I tell him, gritting my teeth at the inevitable. It’s nearly time for all of us to come home.
He nods, pulling out his phone and leaving me to visit in peace. I knock on the door softly before opening without a response.
The room is dark, the curtains pulled over the windows to block the day, and the lights above are dimmed to the lowest setting. My father mutes the TV and struggles to sit up in his bed as I walk around to the foot of it.
“Don’t move if you’re comfortable,” I tell him.
He rolls his eyes, huffing out an annoyed sigh. “I’ll do as I please, boy.”
A smirk pulls at my lips and I look behind me, pleased to find the chairs I asked Aodhan to set up weeks ago. Dragging one closer to the bed, I sit and cross my foot over my knee.
My father stares back, his mouth set in a thin line.
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak.
He coughs, covering his mouth as the violent shakes rattle through his body. I don’t say anything as he wipes the blood that splattered on his hand on the dark comforter. My jaw tics when he doesn’t acknowledge it either and grabs the water to his side. When done, he sighs and leans against the pillows piled behind him.
“I’m sure Doc told you about the stroke.”
I nod and swallow the discomfort growing in my throat. My father and I were never as close as my mother and I, but he’s the only parent I have left.
“The bastard threatened to put a catheter in if my leg function doesn’t improve,” my father says.
Dropping my foot, I lean my elbows on my thighs, cradling my head in my hands. I blow out another slow breath and look back up at him.
“Stop fighting the suggestions of the medical team. They’re here to make your life easier,” I grit out.
His cheeks flush in anger and he opens his mouth to argue, but I shake my head.
“It’s done. You’ve made choices that directly affect your health and it’s clear you can no longer be in charge of your own decisions.”
My father’s eyes flare, and if he was still the man I knew from my youth, I would already have a bullet hole in my body.
“I’m still head of this family,” he says, the slow drawl of the words vibrating with anger.
“To the outside. Everyone with any responsibility knows to defer to me. It’s how I’ve been handling it in the cities the past few months.”
He wets his lips and then smiles. My stomach drops at the malice of it.
Aodhan knocks on the door at the same moment and opens it without prompt.
“Two cars incoming. Declan says registered to Famiglia,” he says, clutching the phone in his hand tightly.
I sit up in my chair, not glancing away from my father. “Your doing?”
“It’s time to settle this war between our families. I would like to go to my grave knowing you won’t follow me any time soon,” my father says smugly.
Glancing at Aodhan, I nod for him to let Luca and his men through, knowing he’ll check them for weapons. He leaves without another word, and I turn back to face the pain in my fucking ass lying in bed like a satisfied cat.
I ignore the anger calling for me to lash out and focus on what’s important. “What are you suggesting that warrants Luca traveling to us?”
My father picks at invisible lint on his shirt as he shrugs. “You’ll marry one of his girls.”
I stand, knocking the chair back as I lean over to grip the sheets. A different type of betrayal courses through me. “What the fuck!”
He glares at me. “What else did you assume I have to fucking offer? Neither of us want to give up territory. Or am I wrong?”
Huffing out in annoyance, I push away from the bed and move the chair back. He isn’t wrong, but I don’t want to marry anyone either. To be chained to some random pussy, an irritating presence that would pollute the memories of these walls that my ma carefully curated.
My father scoffs. “Nothing is going to change, Rian. Pick a goddamn broad you won’t mind putting an heir in and go about your day. Marriage is just a formality of the peace contract.”
I glare at him, knowing he’s trying to pacify me, but I hate that we’ve come to this. “Ma made me promise to marry for love.”
For the first time in a long time, my father’s face breaks with the devastation of my mother’s death. His eyes water before he turns away to blink at the ceiling.
“She’d understand I’m doing this to protect you.”
“Yeah, she understood a lot of things. Didn’t mean she agreed.”
His face falls, and I watch the harsh swallow down his throat before he looks back to me. “You want me to go back on my word? I will if you want to fulfill your promise to your mother. I didn’t know, Rian.” The reverence for my mother’s wishes and the sincerity in his voice convinces me he would without a second thought.
I blink away the sheen that blurs my vision before shaking my head. “We keep our word and I don’t think love is in the cards for me. The Famiglia will never have our forgiveness for past transgressions, and our men deserve to live.”
My father nods slowly. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”
Scoffing, I glance away from him and settle back in my chair. “Don’t get fucking soft on me now, old man. You’re not that dead, yet.”
* * *
Luca walks into the room, the temperature dropping as he glares at Aodhan refusing to move from behind him. His scowl doesn’t falter when he finds me in the chair across the room and makes his way toward me. I know Luca giving Aodhan his back isn’t a show of bravery, but respect. He trusts that he won’t slaughter him in my home, let alone my father’s bedroom.
“Rian.”
I stand, offering the chair next to me. “Drink?”
“Sure,” he says, keeping his eyes on his second as Gio moves to stand across from Aodhan. Gio is a well-known ladies man, but something tells me his hands are more stained with blood than mine.
“Scotch?”
My father chuckles from his bed. “Make me one too, son.”
My jaw tics and I send him a seething glare. He knows I won’t refuse him in front of our guests.
“I would prefer to get this over with as soon as possible. We can save drinks for another time.” Luca’s sharp voice makes me pause. I look back at him, reining in my anger at his refusal when I see a flash of concern as he looks at my father before looking back at me.
I swallow the discomfort and nod, settling back into my chair.
My father huffs, mad that I hadn’t bothered to make him one anyway.
Luca’s dark eyes narrow a bit, meeting mine with mutual hatred. The tanned skin is pulled taut over his cheeks. A miniscule movement of his jaw gives away the grinding of his teeth. He clears his throat and hands me a binder that had been tucked under his arm.
I don’t move to grab it and raise an eyebrow.
“It’s all of our available brides. It has their photos and everything you could possibly want to know about them,” he tells me.
I bury the annoyance at being in this position and grab the binder, flipping through the first few pages absentmindedly. And the way Luca just offers these women up as if I’m browsing the newest models of toys.
“Why did you agree to this?” I ask him, not looking up. “My father’s ambitions for peace and a family while on his deathbed, I understand. But you or your father, I don’t.”
Luca doesn’t answer for a moment as I flip through a few more photos. The girls are pretty, but nothing extraordinary. I have to force back a snort that all of them are marked as pure , as if a virgin wife appeals to me.
“They found cancer in my father’s stomach. It’s too far for treatment.”
I glance up, shocked by his confession. My father inhales sharply, probably disturbed by their similar fates.
Luca rubs his palm along his jaw, then through his dark hair, slicking it back temporarily before the loose curls fall over his forehead again. “I just want to spend whatever remaining time I have with him without worrying about my men’s blood spilling in the streets. My mother deserves some peace with her husband without worrying she might have to bury her son along with him.”
“This is what I hoped you two would understand,” my father says in a soft tone. “Your father and I were too prideful to realize what we were losing till our lives were being forcibly taken by something we can’t control. My deepest regret is the amount of men I’ve sent to early graves.”
I return my attention to the book, refusing to acknowledge how similar the man across from me is to myself. I skim a few more pages before tensing at the photo before me. My fingers trace along her lips, recognizing those deep brown eyes. She looks younger here, her dark hair straightened over her shoulders and her smile bright against her warm beige skin.
Isabelle Romano. The full name of the gorgeous woman that ran from my bed without a word weeks ago. When I returned from my shower and found it empty, it piqued my curiosity. She hadn’t stolen anything, but I figured I’d hurt her when I saw the blood wash off my pelvis.
In my peripheral vision, I see Luca’s fist clench when he takes in who I’m staring at.
He clears his throat again. “Did you want me to point out the daughters of captains? Or capos? Unfortunately, I don’t have any sisters.”
“If you did, would you sacrifice them? Deny them the time with their father you are selfishly trying to take?” I mutter out.
“Rian,” my father warns me from his bed.
Luca glares, his eyes turning cold. “I am merely offering women of stature.”
I turn the binder to face him. “What’s wrong with this one? You put her in here.”
“We put all eligible women in the book. She’s…no one. A daughter of a low-ranking businessman. He owns a restaurant that we sometimes launder small amounts of money through.”
The small stumble gives away that she’s more than that. I look back at the photo of Isabelle and then smirk at the annotation of her pure status. A status I know I shattered with my cock. The stains on the sheets I kept in my closet confirm what I thought I felt that night.
I don’t want to get married, especially not to someone I don’t know. But Isabelle can offer me a chance at normalcy, including the fact that I’ve already fucked her tight cunt and wouldn’t mind taking it for another ride.
“Tell me about her,” I say with a devious smile. Ignoring my father’s questioning stare, I rip her page out of the binder and slam it shut before handing the book back to him.
Luca’s body tenses before he starts talking through clenched teeth.
Belle might have gotten away from me all those weeks ago, a faint disappointment I mulled over for days after. But Isabelle just became my number one priority and the perfect opportunity to mold the wife I need.