Page 28 of A Dark Mafia Christmas

“There you are. I wondered where you’d got to when Emmett came back alone.” Her smile fades as she watches me remove the waxed coat and replace it on the hook. “What’s happened?”

Her tone has changed, becoming concerned rather than excited, and I have to chew my bottom lip to stop myself from telling her what happened by the stream.

“I fell off the horse.” I force a smile. “It’s fine, I’m not hurt. Emmett helped me up and gave me an impromptu riding lesson.”

Her smile is so genuine that guilt swirls about inside my gut all over again. “Did you ride Misty? Isn’t she lovely?”

She links arms with me, and we head back inside the house. So much for sneaking out unnoticed. I’ll spend some time with them and make an excuse to go up to my room as soon as I get the chance.

She keeps up a steady stream of chatter all the way to the living room. “We’re getting the games out. We need you to persuadeEmmett to join in, he’s such a killjoy about these things. And a terrible loser. But you must already know that.”

Well, I would, if any of this was real.

The whole family is there.Elfis playing on the vast, flat-screen TV on the wall. The two grannies are sitting in armchairs, small glasses of sherry on the coffee table between them. Patrick and his brothers are sitting around a cribbage board set up on the long glass coffee table in the middle of the room, while the twins are arguing over a game of Guess Who?

Huge cushions have been scattered around the floor, and Sinead gestures for me to sit next to her. They’re about to open Cluedo, aNightmare Before Christmasversion.

“Choose a character, Mary. And watch out for Erin—she always cheats.”

“I do not.” Erin winks at me. “I can’t help it if I have a photographic memory.”

I’ve just gotten settled, if a little precariously, on a red velvet cushion, when Emmett comes in behind us.

“Emmett, you can join in too.” Sinead waves him over. “We’re having no Grinch behavior this year in front of Mary.”

He sits down on the carpet, cross-legged, his eyes barely skimming mine, and I feel heat rise in my cheeks again. How could he do the things he did to me and then feel nothing?

Tears sting my eyes. It obviously meant nothing to him. He said it himself: this changes nothing. So, why was I still clinging to the tiny glimmer of hope that it would?

Stupid. Stupid.Stupid!

“We need Prosecco.” I didn’t even notice Fianna leaving the room, but now she comes back with a bottle glistening with condensation and fetches some tall crystal flutes from a cabinet across the room.

Emmett opens the bottle expertly and Clare pours. A team. The family unit that operates like clockwork because they each have a role to fill.

I sip the liquid and feel my gums fizz. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins so quickly the Prosecco doesn’t even touch the sides. Maybe I’ll stay here and get drunk instead, show Emmett up because his fiancée can’t hold her drink. I swallow a mouthful and wait for it to work its magic.

I’ve never played Cluedo before, and it doesn’t help that I can’t concentrate with Emmett sitting directly across the board from me. Every time I look up from my little notepad, he averts his eyes like he’s afraid I’ll think he likes me or something.

Erin wins. Clare accuses her of cheating. Everyone laughs. And Fianna fetches more Prosecco.

I’m close to winning the second game, but Erin wins this round too.

“Maybe we should pair up,” Fianna suggests. “I’ll play with mom. Someone needs to keep an eye on her.”

“I’ll team up with Clare,” Sinead says, “and Mary, you can play with Emmett, bring him some luck. He doesn’t like losing.”

Emmett smiles fondly at his mom and stands up. “I’m out. I have to make a few calls.”

“Not on Christmas Eve, lad,” his dad says from the sofa. “You stay right where you are, unless you’re fetching some fecking beers from the fridge.”

Emmett’s eyes meet mine briefly, and he’s the one who looks away. Is that guilt written all over his too-hot-to-be-true face? I hope it is. I wonder what everyone else in this room would think if they knew how the golden boy is treating his fiancée.

“Anyone else want a drink while I’m in the kitchen?” He glances around the room.

“Hold that thought.” Granny Mary eases herself forward in her armchair, white knuckles gripping the arms. “I want to show Mary my engagement ring.” She slides a hand into the pocket of her baggy cardigan and pulls out the ring that Fianna mentioned before.

I kneel in front of her, and she places the ring into the palm of my hand.

---