Page 16 of Forced Vows

He's too busy glaring at Róise. "She'll be eighteen before the wedding."

"I would not agree to marry a damned teenager." Róise is almost twenty-one and that is bad enough.

"If I back out, then you won't agree to the blood alliance?" Róise asks with enough hopefulness to do serious damage to the ego of an average man.

Good thing I am not average. I'm starting to get amused. Róise clearly does not want to marry into our family. That bodes well for her not being a spy.

"You have already given your word," I remind her. "If you back out now, not only will the blood alliance not happen, but our two syndicates will become enemies."

She crosses her arms over her sweet little curves. "Aren't we already?"

"No."

"We have a truce," Severu adds, looking at my almost fiancée like he's trying to figure her out. "That truce would end."

"More blood would spill," Shaughnessy says with a meaningful look at his niece. "Innocents as well as soldiers would be caught up in the conflict."

"We don't hurt innocents," I bark.

Róise's expression is pure disbelief. "Tell that to my mom. Oh, wait, you can't because she's dead."

"Your mother died ten years ago." Big Sal speaks directly to Róise for the first time since she and her uncle entered the office.

"Eleven, but who's counting?" she demands caustically. "In case you are wondering, that would be me."

Okay, two things Aphrodite and Róise have in common. The voice and that sarcastic attitude.

Sal nods ponderously. "Your mother's death was unfortunate."

"Agreed." Shaughnessy frowns at his niece as if daring her to continue.

I could have told him that would only spur her on. And I only knew her for one night when she was pretending to be someone else.

How does he not realize it?

"My mother died after being hit by a stray bullet fired from a Cosa Nostra gun during our so-called truce." The look she gives me says she holds me personally responsible.

My dick twitches with inappropriate interest. That angry fervency is too close to the sexual passion she met me with that night in Portland. A perfect match to my own despite the innocence I discovered too late.

Big Sal clears his throat. "The Bonanno Family and your grandfather had bad blood between them."

"Cleansed by the spilling of my mother's."

As brutal as that truth is, she is right. Her mother's death absolved the former mob boss's sins in the Bonanno don's eyes.

"We are not the Bonannos," I point out.

"You swore on the godfather's ring, just like every other mafia man in this city."

Every high level made man, but she's not going to care about the distinction. "I did."

"Which makes you Cosa Nostra."

"It does." Part of the syndicate responsible for her mom's death.

I get it. She doesn't like that, but I'm proud to be Cosa Nostra. Even prouder to be the Genovese underboss.

"Enough," Shaughnessy barks. "You agreed to this betrothal, Róise. It is done."

---