Page 22 of Forced Vows

She grumbles something about still living in the last century and goes back to reading. When she's done, she pushes the stack of papers back toward me.

"Do you want to change anything?" I ask.

"Of course not," Brogan says, proving he was paying attention even while talking to my uncle. "I already approved all the clauses."

Róise frowns at her uncle and then turns that disgruntled look on me. "Are you willing to change the custody clauses?"

"No."

"Then no."

"Are you sure?" Sev butts in. "You could get another ten mil out of him easily in your settlement."

"The money doesn't matter."

"Says a woman who has never had to go without it," Brogan says patronizingly.

"Every man in here inherited his wealth." Her eyes flash with anger. "None of you has gone without either."

Brogan puts his hands up as if surrendering. "Don't be getting angry, lass. Na, and we haven't gone without but when I was twenty, I was working the family business, not taking classes teaching me how to play make believe."

If the mob boss wants to calm his niece down, he's going about it ass-backwards.

"And I'm signing away my life for the family business, despite wanting nothing to do with it," Róise points out, scorn vibrating from every pore. "That prenup is nothing more than a seedy offer of ten million dollars for my child."

"Against my advice, Miceli is offering an out that most women in our world don't get," Big Sal informs her. "Most prenups in our world are written to discourage filing for divorce by withholding any financial support."

"For the wife. And if the mafia man divorces her? There's no punitive clause for him, is there." Róise shakes her head. "Typical men. I'm not surprised a Cosa Nostra underboss puts such a negligible value on his child."

The look of derision she levels at me exponentially outdoes the one she gave her uncle. "Miceli could triple the settlement without putting a dent in the public account he keeps for the IRS, but that's not the point, is it?"

Stung at the implied criticism of my provision for her if we should separate, I slash through the ten million and write one-hundred-million before initialing it.

"Unless you're changing the custody clause, I'm not impressed." Her glare stays fixed on my face.

"One hundred million doesn't earn even a smile?"

Not a flicker of surprise, much less appreciation lights her green gaze. "No. Money is currency. Children are life and you're not buying mine."

She can't know it, but every word out of her mouth shows how well Róise will fit in with my family.

The mafia is important. They are family as well as business, but the De Lucas come before all others.

I am not taking on a twenty-year old virtual stranger for the profits we will get from joint ventures with the Shaughnessy mob; I am marrying Róise because this blood alliance is another wall of protection around my family.

Chapter 10: RÓISE

The two-ton boulder of fatalism sitting on my heart since agreeing to this marriage alliance, grinds and shifts ominously.

I have no choice about marrying Miceli De Luca. Because it's not just a matter of protecting Fiona now. It's the only way to protect the rest of my family from ending up like my parents in a war with the Genovese mafia.

I might hate my future husband for it. I might despise my uncle. But I will do it.

What I will not do is sign this horrible prenup.

I put the pen down on top of the papers. "You are not buying my children," I repeat.

My uncle curses virulently in a mix of Irish and English. He knows I mean it. That I will not be moved. Like the Shaughnessy women before me, when I take a stand, I keep it.

---