Page 28 of Finn

Shit.

I turn and come face to face with Cillian. Well, I suppose there’s no use trying to make a mad dash toward the door now. I doubt I’d get more than five feet without one of his men stopping me.

“I think Finn would like a word,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips.

I straighten my spine and lift my chin, staring him dead in the eye. I don’t give a shit if I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be. Or that I’ve discovered some secret my husband is trying to keep from me for God knows what reason. I’m Alessia Amatto, and no one will make me feel like I don’t belong anywhere I choose to be.

“I’m sure he does.” I turn to my best friend, who is busy shooting daggers at Finn’s lieutenant. Of course, Cillian is completely nonplussed by Gemma's attitude. In fact, I think I see a hint of a smile on his face as he stares right back at her.

Her brow arches before she turns to me with a question in her eyes. Stay or run? she’s silently asking me. Only my best friend would think we could outrun the Irish mob in the basement of one of their own bars.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say and give her a quick hug before turning toward Cillian. May as well follow him now. No use putting off the argument my husband and I are about to have if the cold look in Finn’s eyes is anything to go by.

I reach the locker room moments before my husband. When he walks in, we stare at each other for a brief moment, neither of us saying a word.

“What the hell possessed you to walk into an underground fighting ring?” he asks in a deceptively calm tone.

“There’re plenty of other women here, Finn. Why shouldn’t I be here too?”

“Those other women aren’t my wife, Alessia.”

I work my jaw back and forth, the weight of his words falling heavily on my guarded heart. “I see.” Boy, do I see. “I didn’t realize I was walking into where you met with your fucking goomah.” The explosion of anger that comes out as I yell at him surprises even me.

It’s not that I didn’t know men in Finn’s position usually have a few mistresses, especially knowing what I do about him. It just wasn’t something I was expecting to care about. But fuck do I care. Maybe my heart isn’t as impenetrable as I thought.

“My what?” he asks, confusion creasing his brow.

Before I can answer, there’s a quick knock at the door, followed by Eoghan peeking his head inside.

“You might want to come out for this, brother.”

Finn takes a deep breath and looks from me to his brother, anger radiating from him.

“Stay here,” he commands before walking out and slamming the door behind him. I raise both middle fingers to the door and let out a scream of sheer annoyance. This is such bullshit. How dare he assume I’m going to stay in this little room that smells of sweat and muscle cream just because he demanded it? I don’t have to actually do anything he tells me.

My phone dings with a text alert, and I see Gemma’s name flash on the screen.

Gemma: You okay? Enzo put me in a cab and told me I need to go home, but the driver is waiting around the corner. Do you want to make a run for it?

See? Always ready to be my partner in crime.

Me: I’m fine. Just confused and extremely fucking pissed. I think Finn is more worried about my running into his girlfriend than anything else.

Gemma: That slimy asshole!

Me: It is what it is.

And that’s the fucking truth. If Finn wants to have a hundred girlfriends, no one is going to think any less of him.

Gemma: What do you want me to do? Stay or go?

The urge to tell her I’ll meet her outside and we'll get the hell out of here is strong. I’m so fucking tempted to go to the most expensive bar in downtown Boston and order bottle after bottle of champagne courtesy of Finn and the credit card he gave me last week to redecorate his house. I still can’t believe he suggested that, but if there’s one thing that’s paramount in this life and in this deal we made, it’s to present a united front. So, as much as I would love to run out of this room, my upbringing and loyalty to my family won’t allow it.

Me: Go. I’ll call you tomorrow.

I put my phone back in my purse and look around the space. I spot Finn’s clothes hanging in an old beat-to-shit locker. For no other reason except for the fact I must be a glutton for punishment, I walk over to his suit and run my hands down the sleeve. One thing I can certainly appreciate about the man is he knows how to dress well. The fabric of his jacket is soft and feels as expensive as I’m sure it is. I lower my face to the fabric and inhale, trying to place the rich, masculine scent that I’ve come to associate with the man who pisses me off to no end. Cedarwood maybe? My eye catches on something shiny next to his wallet and keys sitting on the little shelf in the locker. It’s his wedding ring. Of fucking course. I wonder if he takes it off every time he goes to the casino—if that’s even where he’s been spending his time.

I grab the thick gold band and examine it in my hand. This little thing really means nothing. Flashes of my future run through my mind. Me being bored and home by myself. The fake smiles I’ll have to wear in front of our families for the rest of our lives. Me losing bits and pieces of myself because of the image I’m meant to maintain in front of the world. I knew going in that this was business and there were things I was going to have to turn a blind eye to. It’s how this world works. But I wasn’t prepared to have it thrown in my face like it is tonight.

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