Chapter 43 #2
“Sure,” Killian says, giving me a supportive wink.
Gunnar checks with me and I nod.
Mac’s office is in the back of the house. It’s a good-sized space, filled with old books, plants and large oil paintings of racehorses.
He sees me admiring the paintings as we take a seat—him behind his desk, me in the leather chair in front of it. “Fucking state has made everything legal. What do we have left? State-banned gamblers and juice loans?”
I give him a small smile of concession. “Look at the bright side. There’ll always labor union corruption and drugs.”
He chuckles, but then the amusement in his eyes cools to something unreadable.
“You’re a smart man, Alessandro. You know I could leverage a marriage to my daughter to regain some power here in Chicago.
Nick DiFronzo has a thirty-year-old son getting ready to take the reins.
Handsome lad. Probably would let Lennon keep working if she wished. ”
My jaw clenches and I move my jacket aside just enough for my Beretta to peek out.
It’s just a distraction so I can slide my throwing knife out of its secret pocket with my other hand.
The cold steel against my palm steadies the Beast, who is eyeing the soft spot in Mac’s throat.
It will only take one quick flick of my wrist to end him. “That’s not happening.”
The Maco peers out of his eyes, brutal and cunning. I feel like I’m staring into the abyss. But I will not blink. Not on this.
He pulls his own gun from the drawer on his left and sets it on the desk. “Are you challenging me, lad?”
My whole body is tense, ready for a fight. Ready to defend or take a life. I don’t really care. Lennon is mine. “If I have to.”
We hold the stare, and everything seems to go still.
There is no sound. No time. I make my intentions known in the darkness I let seep into my eyes, the twitch of my jaw.
If this is the hill I die on, I will have finally found a worthy purpose for my life.
As a sacrifice for the only woman who’s ever made me want to be a better man.
Finally, he sits back and folds his hands over his stomach. His grin is wide as the Maco recedes. “Sorry, just had to test how serious you were. You’ve got it bad, eh, son?” he chuckles.
As I let my body relax a little, I watch him, still unsure.
“I imagine Lennon is a lot like her mother then.” He shakes his head as he stares behind me.
“An easy woman to fall in love with, my Angie. Of course, that wasn’t my intention.
She was just supposed to be a little fun on the side.
She was such a bright spark, though. I was like a moth, unable to resist her orbit. ”
With the smallest practiced motion, I slide the knife back in place. “Did Mary know about her?”
“I don’t know honestly. It was a different time.” He purses his lips. “Or maybe not so different. But she does now.”
“How does she feel about Lennon?”
He smiles. “She is actually as excited to meet her as I am.” He leans forward and slaps his palms on the desk. “Let’s get this business over with, shall we? What are you offering for my daughter’s hand?”
I could point out to him that she’s not his to give away, but that would undermine my intent here. In order to get New York on board with our marriage, it has to look like a sanctioned alliance. “What do you want?”
“To not feel so fucking old, for starters.” Then he sighs. “First, Killian has informed me he would like to run a strip club on a yacht.”
“A strip club on a yacht,” I repeat slowly. Could it be that easy? “Okay. That can be arranged.”
Mac holds his palms up. “What can I say? He’s easily amused. And he loves Florida, apparently. As for what I want… I just want Killian and Sully established there and for one of them to marry into the family to strengthen our alliance.
“If The Commission is ready to establish itself there permanently, then I want my family on the ground floor. Sully can be part of your business in whatever capacity you two agree on. He’ll be an asset, I promise. I’m going to keep my oldest, Bran, here to take over for me.”
“That’s reasonable.”
He gives me a hard look. “Part of this deal is that I have a relationship with my daughter. I want to be at your wedding. I want to walk her down the aisle.”
And there it is. I’m not sure how the fuck I’m supposed to get Lennon on board with this. A problem for another day. “Is that it?”
He nods. “Do we have a deal?”
I stand and shake his hand. “We have a deal.” I ignore the prick of anxiety nudging me as my brain screams that I don’t have the authority to make this deal. I’ll just have to hope New York goes along with it. Or I’m fucked.
“Good. I’ll call my lawyer now and have him write up a contract and fax it over.”
“Let me know when it arrives. I believe your wife wanted a word with me.”
He picks up his phone. “Take a right out of my office and keep going until you hit the French doors.”
I check my phone once more as I wander down the hall toward the backyard. Still no messages from Father. My jaw ticks with impatience.
Two guards standing on the patio outside turn to assess me. I give them a nod of acknowledgment and keep moving toward the stunning display of flowers. I find Mary sitting on a bench in a rose garden. She’s arranging the flowers in a basket—yellow, peach, pink.
“Well, that was quick.” She squints as she smiles up at me. “I assume that means things went well?”
I sit down next to her, instantly encased in the sweet fragrance of roses. It makes me think of that saying: Stop and smell the roses. It’s been a long time since I did anything for pure enjoyment. Besides spending time with Lennon. “Very well, yes.”
She pats my knee like we’re old friends. But somehow it feels right. “I can’t wait to meet your Lennon.”
I like the way she phrased that. “You don’t harbor any hard feelings toward her?”
Her blue eyes are the same color as the sky, and they widen in alarm.
“Of course not. A child is innocent. She didn’t choose to come into the world like she did.
Besides,” she lifts a pink rose to her nose and inhales, “I knew when I married Mac what I was to him. A family merger. A means to an heir. He’s good to me in the ways that count, and I got three beautiful children out of it, didn’t I?
” Her gaze slides back to mine. “Not that I don’t care for the old man.
And I dare say I’ve won his heart over the years with my cookin’. ”
We share a laugh.
“Anyway, the reason I ask you out here is to discuss Killian.” Her mood changes instantly. Darkens like clouds blocking the sun.
I sit quietly and wait. It takes her a minute of fussing with the rose petals, and trying to find the right words, before she finally speaks.
“When he was nineteen, he thought he was in love. Amber was her name. She was as wild as he was back then, reckless, self-destructive. He would’ve followed her off a cliff and in a way, he did.” Her eyes glaze over.
Her hand trembles and then a prick of red blood begins to seep from her thumb. She’s squeezing the stem of a rose.
I pull out a handkerchief. “You’ve pricked your finger,” I say softly, lifting her hand and pressing the cloth over her thumb.
She sighs and it sticks in her chest. “She was five months pregnant, sitting outside a café waiting for him when a drunk driver jumped the sidewalk and hit her. Them. Her and the babe. They were…” She swipes at her eye and straightens her back.
Finally noticing the handkerchief in her hand, she pulls it away and stares at the spot of blood.
“They were dead. It wasn’t instant. She suffered.
” A tear falls. Her lips purse. “Killian showed up a minute too late.
The wreckage, her bloody body lying in a pile of twisted metal and glass, seared into his brain forever.
"There was a doctor nearby, but Amber was too far gone to help. After the doctor declared her deceased, Killian wouldn’t let anyone touch her body for an hour.
They had to place him in custody.” She turns to me.
“I know I don’t have to tell you what that did to him.
” She searches my face and must see what she needs.
She nods. “He hides behind the joking and the don’t-give-a-shite attitude because his heart was crushed that day.
It's been nine years. He’s never let anyone in again.
I’m hoping having a connection with his half-sister will help him. Help him open up and trust again.”
I nod slowly. If anyone can reopen a heart that’s been closed for business, Lennon can. “I understand.”
Her eyes shine as she smiles softly. “I know you do.”
***
I’m in the back room at the Diamond Vault, designing a ring for Lennon, when my phone buzzes.
I dig it out of my jacket, which is draped over the back of the chair, and my adrenaline spikes.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell the jeweler, and step out the back door for privacy.
Despite the gray storm clouds crowding the sky, it’s stifling hot, and I’m immediately sweating as I swipe to answer the call from my father.
“Son.”
“Yeah.” I’m trying to decipher his mood in that one word. Trying to figure out my fate. “You have a decision for me?”
“I do.”
I close my eyes and brace myself.
“We voted and it was three to two… in favor of the alliance with the Irish.”
I blow out the breath I’d been holding and collapse against the stucco building.
“As long as what they are asking for is reasonable,” he adds.
“It is. Mac Donnelly just wants his two sons to work in our operation. His youngest son Killian wants to run a strip club and the other son we can use as we see fit.” I don’t mention Mac’s stipulation of walking Lennon down the aisle because that’s on me.
“That’s it?” He seems both surprised and suspicious.
I press the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can roll up my sleeves. “Well, he mainly wants a relationship with his daughter.”
“Ah. I see. Okay, then. Our lawyer will be sending you the contract today for the Romanovs to sign. It will include a clause for Anatoly to marry Giada.” He chuckles. “Now go get your girl, Son.”
The sun breaks through a clump of clouds and warms my face.
A weight has lifted, and I feel a genuine, effortless smile come over me. Just one more hurdle. But it’s a big one.