Page 5 of Finn

“I see you’re still angry with me,” he says when he hears my annoyed tone. “Shooting didn’t help?”

My father taught me to shoot after…well, after. He thought it would help me not only feel stronger and better able to defend myself if the need arose again, but he said it was a great stress reliever. He became one of my favorite people to go to the range with, always pushing me to do better and learn how to use a multitude of various guns. I didn’t tell him I was coming here today, but he knows me well enough to know where to find me when I’m working out a problem and need to take the edge off. Drugs and alcohol never appealed to me. Shooting on the other hand? That’s probably saved my sanity on more than one occasion.

“Have you decided to call this farce of a wedding off?” I chew the side of my lip as I lean back against the wall of the private shooting lane at my favorite range. Enzo stands just on the other side of the door, trying to give me privacy, but it’s not as though he doesn’t know exactly why we’re here.

My father may be more progressive than any other made man out there, especially considering he’s head of a powerful family, but some things he still holds true, like his right to sign a marriage contract on my behalf.

“Sweetheart, there is a lot riding on this union. You know it as well as I do. Your cooperation”—a snort of laughter escapes me—“will be the catalyst we need to bring down the Cataldis once and for all.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, once again remembering why I’m considering this asinine idea in the first place. I know if I throw a big enough fit over being asked to marry Finnegan, my father will find another way. But uniting two powerful families would take care of all the problems we’ve been running into the last few years at the Boston ports, as well as various other businesses run by my father’s men. It’s perfectly within his right to choose a husband for me. When he brought up the idea to me a little over a week ago, I was dead set against it. He implored me to consider the deal, and I’ve spent every day since doing just that.

“I’m aware, Papa,” I say, softening my tone. “But that doesn’t change the fact that until a week ago, the Irish weren’t exactly high on our Christmas card list.”

Our families don’t have many dealings with the Monaghans, but the few we’ve had are most likely responsible for several of my dad’s gray hairs. There’ve been deals we’ve been cut out of, not to mention their casino has been steadily taking business from ours. I’m not stupid; my family makes money using beautiful call girls in the casinos to lure rich businessmen in. I don’t necessarily love that aspect of the business, but it is what it is and sex sells. The Irish don’t offer anything we don’t, so it’s always been a mystery as to why their tables are full every night of the week and ours seem to have more and more empty seats.

“Times are changing, Alessia, and we need to change with them. If partnering with the Irish is for the good of both of our organizations, then it’s something we need to consider.”

“I’ve done nothing but consider it since you brought it up.”

“Finn wants an answer tonight, so I need you to stop thinking about it and make a decision.”

“Why is he so desperate to have an unwilling wife?”

“Alessia,” my father breathes out. “We need this deal as much as he does. If we have control of the ports, along with the Monaghans, that will change our business dealings and significantly expand our power and territory. The Cataldis are falling apart, and we need to strike before anyone else. With our combined efforts, we’d be unstoppable.”

“And me being the Irishman’s wife would ensure the Monaghans won’t double cross us, yes, I know, Papa.” It’s not like this is the first time he’s used that argument to convince me.

“My sources say he is a man of honor.”

I outright laugh at my father’s description of Finn.

“Really? Because my sources say he’s a womanizing scoundrel.”

Finn and his brother have a certain reputation in the Boston area that reaches all the way to New York. Honor is not a word I’ve heard used to describe him.

“Alessia, you can’t believe idle gossip,” my father admonishes. I imagine him waving his hand like he’s brushing away my concerns. “He’s a single man who hasn’t had a wife to take care of. It’s not like he’s stepping out on his marriage.”

One thing I’ve always admired about my father is his devotion and faithfulness to my mother. That’s not the norm in our world, but my father has always believed a man’s character is defined by his commitment to his vows made before God on his wedding day.

I let out a long sigh and stretch my neck, attempting to relieve the tension that’s settled back in during this conversation.

“Listen, Papa. I need to go. I’m having lunch with Gemma in thirty minutes. We’ll talk when I get home, yeah?”

“Okay, but I need to know if I’m inviting the Monaghan boy for dinner.”

Only my father would refer to the head of the Irish mob as a boy.

“We’ll talk when I get home. I love you.”

“I love you too, piccola demone.”

I hang up with a smile on my face at my father’s old nickname for me. He’s been calling me little demon since I was a young girl getting up to any mischief I could find.

Enzo walks in just after I disconnect the call, confirming he heard the conversation. Putting the noise-canceling earbuds back in my ear before picking up my pistol, I turn toward the fresh target Enzo set up for me.

Giving him a small smile of thanks, I face the target and fire.

“You’ve been at the range,” Gemma comments when she reaches our table at the little bistro fifteen minutes from where I go to shoot. It’s a gorgeous spring day in the city, so I picked a table on the little outdoor patio surrounded by blooming flowers and ivy trailing up the columns of the veranda.

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