By the time Kieran and Gianni return from the salon where his Fabergé egg collection is kept in sealed glass cabinets, I’ve wrestled my boiling murderous rage down to a more manageable black fury.
I lived with black fury for most of my married life, so I know I won’t be committing bodily harm to a smirking, arrogant Irishman in the immediate future.
I almost lost it when he mentioned the letter opener, however. I almost went full Jack the Ripper on his sorry ass.
It was an extremely close call.
“Everything all right?” Gianni inquires, nervously eying the open door of the study.
I exhale and try not to look like the axe murderer I feel like inside. “Yes. Mr. Quinn and I were finished speaking, so I thought I’d wait for you here. How did you enjoy the collection, Kieran?”
“Er…” He coughs into his hand. “It was dead brilliant.”
Gianni beams, not understanding that if someone had handed poor Kieran a noose during the tour, he would have seriously considered hanging himself from the nearest rafter.
“It really is, isn’t it?” I say mildly.
We share a look. Kieran tries to hide his smile by chewing the inside of his cheek.
The sound of footsteps echoing over marble makes my pulse quicken.
Lili appears from around the corner of the corridor in the blue dress I instructed her to wear, her color high and her eyes darting. When she sees Kieran, her step falters, but she recovers quickly, plastering a smile on her face.
At her sides, her hands are clenched to fists.
Steady, tesoro. You’re not marrying anyone, especially not that bastard in your father’s study.
I still can’t believe what he said. “I’m not your dead husband.” As if the son of a bitch could read my mind.
I haven’t been that shaken in years.
Lili’s nervous gaze finds mine. I incline my head slightly, make a small motion with two fingers of my right hand, and watch her exhale in relief.
“Ah! Here she is now!”
Gianni holds out his arms. Lili hurries to him. He kisses her on both cheeks, then turns to Kieran. “Mr. Byrne, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Liliana. Lili, this is Mr. Byrne.”
Smiling shyly, Lili murmurs a hello.
“Please, call me Kieran. Pleasure to meet ye, lass.”
He extends his baseball mitt of a hand. Startled, Lili looks to me for guidance.
She’s never touched a man outside her immediate family.
Excluding the boy hiding in the wardrobe in her bedroom, that is. Judging by his state of undress, they’ve been doing quite a bit more than touching each other’s hands.
A problem I’ll address as soon as I’m finished with this one.
When I nod, Lili hesitantly stretches out her hand. It’s swallowed by Kieran’s, disappearing into his meaty grip.
Looking somber and respectful, Kieran says, “Don’t ye worry, lassie. He looks a fright, but he’s a pussycat, I promise ye.”
I stifle a snort. Pussycat, my ass. Your friend’s a rabid dog.
Catching the expression on my face, Lili says, “Um…”
“Yes, I’m sure Lili will very much enjoy making Mr. Quinn’s acquaintance. Won’t you, bambolotta?”
Gianni says his nickname for her like a threat.
I’d like to punch him in the throat.
“Yes, Papa.”
“Shall we go in, Reyna?”
I take one of Lili’s hands. Her father takes the other. We lead her into the study between us, a lamb to slaughter.
God, how I despise the tradition of arranged marriage. Knowing she’ll be spared the indignity of having to marry this particular Irish lout who calls himself an insect helps me feel better, but it will be someone else someday.
No matter how much I might want to, I won’t be able to protect Lili forever.
In the Cosa Nostra, it’s still the dark ages. Women are valued only for our ability to bear heirs, how well we can cook, or as cum dumpsters. We’re not even allowed to vote.
It’s enough to drive any woman mad.
Or to murder.
“Mr. Quinn,” Gianni is saying, his smile so bright, it could be seen from outer space. “Please allow me to present my daughter, Liliana.”
Spider—I cannot believe I allowed myself to call him that—looks at Liliana with no trace of emotion on his face. He could be looking at a block of cheese in a refrigerated deli case for all the interest he shows.
It surprises me. Lili’s an extremely pretty girl. Most men start salivating the moment they set eyes on her.
Not this one. He merely looks her up and down and murmurs a dismissive, “Hullo.”
Gianni glances at me in panic, but I can’t look at him because I’m too preoccupied trying not to break into song.
It will be so much better for me if Quinn is the one to call off the contract.
Though Gianni agreed to allow me the final vote in the matter, I’d never hear the end of it. He’d alternate between sulking and lashing out until he found another suitor for Lili. He’d make my life hell. A price I’d willingly pay, but hell nonetheless.
If Quinn doesn’t want Lili, however…
Maybe there is a God.
Ha! Don’t be ridiculous.
“Lili, this is Mr. Quinn,” says Gianni, his voice slightly too high. He clears his throat, then snaps, “Say hello.”
Gazing demurely at his feet, Lili says, “Hello, Mr. Quinn. It’s very nice to meet you.”
When the Irishman only stands there looking at her, mute as a statue, his eyes narrowed, Gianni elbows her sharply in her ribs.
“I…I, um, hope we can get to know each other better. I look forward to…visiting with you. Um. Today.”
Quinn is silent.
Gianni clearly would like to slit his wrists.
This is turning out to be a good day after all.
Giving Lili a little shove toward Quinn, Gianni says, “Why don’t you two lovebirds have a nice chat over there on the sofa? Reyna and I will give you some privacy—”
“We can’t leave them alone together,” I interrupt, my voice hard.
The Irishman looks at me with a cocked eyebrow.
I smile my best don’t-mind-me-I’m-only-a-silly-woman smile. “Lili isn’t allowed to be alone with a man. She requires a chaperone. Correct, Gianni?”
Since he’s the one who made the damn rule, he can’t contradict me.
He’d still like to smash something into my face.
“Correct,” he says, forcing it past his teeth. “I’m sure you understand, Mr. Quinn. My apologies, but we’re old-fashioned.”
“Are you?” he drawls, looking at me.
His hazel eyes are half-lidded. His lips are faintly curved. He looks like he’s enjoying some private joke that I’m the butt of.
The boiling rage I’d managed to beat down comes roaring back, searing a path along all my nerve endings and setting my face on fire.
He sees it and smiles.
Then he takes Lili by the arm—by the arm! Like a possession!—and leads her away from us without another word.
As soon as they’re out of earshot, Gianni turns to me and hisses, “Che palle!”
“Cool your jets, brother. There’s no way we could leave Lili alone with that…” I think of his hungry eyes, the way he looked at me earlier like he might eat me alive. “Predator.”
Besides, I’ve already decided this marriage will happen over my dead body.
“We can’t risk insulting him!”
I think of our little verbal sparring match and have to suppress a grin.
Too late.
Seething, Gianni adjusts his tie and glances over to where Lili and Quinn are seated on the velvet divan on the opposite side of the room. Her hands are folded in her lap, her legs are crossed at the ankles, and her gaze is directed at his feet, as if she’s fascinated by his shoes.
His enormous, black leather oxfords which he surely has to have custom made because they’re so large.
The size of them is startling. But now that I think of it, he has enormous hands, too.
My husband had small hands and even smaller feet. They were the size of a doll’s in comparison. To go along with his teeny-tiny cock.
I refuse to consider what it might mean that the Irishman has feet the size of skis.
“Anyway,” I say, flustered, “at least he’s not wearing that awful face now. Did you see the way he looked at her when they were introduced?”
“I thought he might walk right out the door,” says Gianni, shaking his head in disgust. “What the hell is wrong with him? Lili’s beautiful!”
“Maybe he’s gay.”
“Pfft. Look at him. The way he carries himself, the way he swaggers…”
The way he looked at my lips.
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.
“That’s a lion king,” Gianni continues. “Not a fanook.”
I wince. “Please don’t use that word. It’s extremely offensive.”
Gianni rolls his eyes, muttering, “You and your love of pole smokers.”
“That’s even worse! For the love of God, Gianni, how about trying not to be such a bigot for once?”
He waves a hand dismissively at me. “Look, she’s laughing. That’s a good sign, giusto?”
Lili’s tinkling laugh carries the distance between us and them. I can tell it’s genuine, not forced. She isn’t trying to be polite, she actually thinks whatever the Irishman said is funny.
He probably tried to tell her that he’s intelligent.
At that moment, he looks over, catches me watching him, and winks.
He fucking winks.
Then he grins, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.
I’d like to carve out his liver.
Gianni mutters, “Well, he certainly seems to be in a better mood now.” He blows out a hard breath and looks up at the ceiling. “Don’t stare at him, for Christ’s sake.”
But suddenly it has become impossible not to stare at him. His laughing eyes are tractor-beams, dragging me in.
No one laughs at me. No one.
Ever.
They’re all too busy avoiding my gaze, as if I’m Medusa and they’re afraid they’ll be turned to stone with one glance.
But this golden lion who’s named after a bug and looks like a comic book superhero doesn’t avoid my gaze. He grabs it and holds it hostage.
And he’s definitely not afraid to laugh at me. In fact, I think it might be his new favorite thing.
I don’t quite know what to make of that.
Maybe the Irish are all crazy? I haven’t really known any before. All I think of when someone says Ireland are four leaf clovers, leprechauns, and green beer.
Now I can add to that rude men with huge feet.
Though Kieran seems sweet. He isn’t rude in the least.
I glance over my shoulder to find him out in the corridor, his hands shoved in his pockets and his nose scrunched as he gazes up at the frescoes on the wall.
He shakes his head and mutters, “Bloody daft altogether.”
I turn away. It’s too bad he’s not higher up in the Mob’s hierarchy. He might actually be tolerable as a spouse. But he seems to be a bodyguard or a driver, a rank too powerless to be of use to Gianni.
Though Quinn is only second-in-command, Gianni knows very well how quickly leadership changes in our world. Our own father was once the top dog, until a ruthless rival replaced him. All it would take is a single bullet to put Quinn on top.
Or take him out.
The thought makes me smile.
When I do, the Irish lout still staring at me licks his lips.
I rip my gaze away from his and wonder if I remembered to reload the gun in my nightstand after I cleaned it last week.
Lili and the lout spend another twenty minutes chatting while Gianni and I wait patiently near the door. Then he stands, gesturing for Lili to do the same.
“Here they come!” Gianni blurts as they start to walk toward us.
Lili’s expression is calm. I can tell she’s being careful not to show any emotion. She’ll tell me everything about their conversation, of course, but for the moment all I can do is hope that it wasn’t too horrible for her.
The Irishman’s face is also emotionless, but there’s a look in his eyes that I don’t like.
If he asks for proof that she’s a virgin right in front of her, I’ll tear off one of his giant feet and beat him to death with it.
Jesus, Reyna. Get a grip!
Honestly, I haven’t felt this unhinged in years. The man brings out the animal in me.
Thank God I made sure to get the final word on the approval of this match, because if he married into the family and I had to interact with him on a regular basis, I’d start climbing the walls and shrieking like a baboon.
As Lili approaches, I hold out a hand. She quickly comes to my side and takes it, gripping it tightly and standing so close, it’s as if she wants to hide under my dress.
Quinn strolls to a stop a few feet away and looks at Lili from under his lashes.
Then he looks at Gianni.
Then at me.
His smile comes on slow and hot.
“Mr. Caruso,” he drawls, still looking at me. “Thank you for allowing Lili and me a moment to speak privately.”
He’s calling her Lili? Nobody calls her that but her family!
The nerve of this beast.
Gianni is so excited by the change in the Irishman’s manner that he’s practically shitting himself. “Of course! I trust everything went well?”
The Irishman lets him hang on his anxiety for a moment before nodding.
Shit.
Gianni exhales an audible breath of relief. Then he claps his hands together, making Lili jump. “Excellent!”
“If I may have a word with you, however. Alone.”
“Certainly!”
In his rush to get Lili and me out the door, Gianni gives us both a shove. He regrets it when I growl at him, but not enough to dampen his excitement.
“Go. Go!” he hisses, waving us out. The moment we cross the threshold, he slams the door behind us, rattling the picture frames on the walls.
Kieran looks at my livid face and chuckles.
“I’ll give ye lasses a wee bit of space. There’s a painting of the baby Jesus round the corner that I’m dyin’ to have a gander at.” Whistling, he strolls away down the hall.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I turn to Lili, give her a hug, and start apologizing.
“Are you okay, tesoro? I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I should’ve prepared you better for this moment. If only I’d known he was coming, we could’ve talked first. I could’ve given you some support—”
“I’m fine,” she interrupts, pulling away. “It wasn’t that bad, I promise.”
I look at her in disbelief. “I know you’re only saying that so I don’t worry.”
“No, I’m not. He was actually nice.”
I almost topple sideways and fall to the floor. “Nice?”
She shrugs.
“Well, what did he say to you?”
“He asked me about my hobbies, what kind of music I like, my favorite food. Stuff like that. Oh, and college. He seemed really interested in what I wanted to study. When I told him criminal law, he laughed.”
“He mocked you!” I say, heated.
“I don’t think so. He said he liked the irony of it. He said he thought I’d make a good attorney.”
Someone is going to have to assist me with getting my jaw off the floor.
“If he was so nice, why did you skitter over to me like a scared baby mouse?”
She pauses. “I mean…have you seen him? The guy’s totally intimidating. Like big and…I don’t know…all that. I thought I might get pregnant just sitting next to him.”
Horrified, I make the sign of the cross on my chest. “Don’t even say that word out loud.”
“I know you have it handled, anyway. You have the final word about this, right?”
“Right.”
“And it’s obvious you hate him and you’re not going to let Papa marry me off to him, right?”
“Right.”
“So why are you so worked up?”
That is a very, very good question.
“I’m…not.” I smooth a hand over my hair and smile at her reassuringly.
She rolls her eyes. “Zia, please. You’re foaming at the mouth.”
Dismissing that, I lower my voice and say, “Did you take care of the situation in the wardrobe?”
Lili’s cheeks flush. She glances down and nods, smiling a secret little smile.
“How did you get him out?”
“The dumbwaiter.”
I gasp. “You wedged that poor boy into the dumbwaiter? Did you break all his joints first?”
The flush in her cheeks deepens, and so does her smile. “He says it’s worth it.”
I say sarcastically, “I bet he does.” Then something else occurs to me. “Oh, no. This isn’t the first time, is it?”
She glances up at me and makes a face.
“Never mind, I don’t want to know. Just promise me it’s the last time.”
When she hesitates, I say vehemently, “Lili, you cannot allow him back into this house. Your father will hang his stuffed head on the trophy wall in his study.”
“I know,” she whispers, her smile dying.
“Who is he, anyway?”
“Timo’s son.”
I have to think for a moment. “Timo? The gardener?”
“The pool man. Juan Pablo helps his dad clean the pool sometimes. That’s how we met.” Her secret smile reappears. “I was lying out getting sun in my yellow bikini.”
Dear God. The daughter of a Mafia don is having an affair with the Latino pool boy.
We’re a telenovela.
I’m about to interrogate her about birth control when the door to Gianni’s study opens. The Irishman and Gianni walk out.
“Thank you again for the visit,” Gianni says, avoiding my eyes. “It was a pleasure.”
“The pleasure was mine.”
The Irishman stops in front of me and Lili. Formal and serious, he says to her, “I appreciate meeting you, Lili. Thank you for speaking with me.”
She inches closer to my side. “You’re welcome. And thank you, too.”
The Irishman nods, then turns his gaze to me. His hazel eyes start to burn.
“And Reyna,” he says, his voice so soft it gives me a shiver. “It’s been…interesting meeting you.” He extends his hand.
I look at it. A crocodile’s toothy open snout would seem more inviting.
But I slide my hand into his and meet his gaze unflinchingly, because queens aren’t afraid of dumb reptiles.
Or spiders either.
“Goodbye, Mr. Quinn. And safe travels. The roads around here can get dangerous after dark.”
I know he received the threat when he smiles.
He holds my hand and my gaze for a beat, then turns abruptly to Gianni. “I’ll show myself out.”
“Oh, no, I’ll walk with you!” Gianni protests. But it falls on deaf ears because the Irishman is already striding away, his shoulders squared and his chin up, as cocky as a bullfighter.
When he disappears around the corner, I say flatly, “I don’t approve. The marriage is off.”
Sounding triumphant, Gianni says, “Unfortunately, sorellina, that’s impossible.”
Beside me, Lili stiffens.
My voice turns sharp. “What are you talking about?”
“The contract has already been signed. We did it just now…and set the wedding date as well. Lili and Mr. Quinn will be married next month.”
Lili cries out in horror and slaps her hands over her mouth.
Infuriated, I step toward my brother. “You said I’d have final approval! You promised me I could choose!”
His lips curve upward at the edges. “You’re not the only one in this family who’s a good liar.”
Then he turns on his heel and locks himself in his office, leaving Lili and me alone in the hallway, her anguished wails echoing off the walls.
