Page 58 of Between Dusk and Dawn

"And who gets to claim the leadership role in the family?" Madison asked, tilting her head and crossing her arms. The world halted around us. With the exception of Ember, no womanhad ever dared to question the established roles within our traditional family structure.

Was it steeped in sexism? Undoubtedly. Did I believe women should have a more prominent voice? Absolutely. But try explaining that to my old ass uncle, who was staunchly convinced a woman's role was limited to the kitchen.

My father stood frozen, offering no immediate response. I held my breath, praying that Madison's bold inquiry wouldn't land me in hot water.

My father's calm cracked ever so slightly as he replied, "We'll see how this unfolds with the Irish. This is not exactly what I anticipated. I will also have to talk to my daughter about this." His measured words hinted at the unexpected turn of events, leaving an air of uncertainty in the room.

My dad was pissed at me and was trying his hardest to remain calm. The Irish would be beyond pissed, and it would risk the relationship with us and them. I needed to talk to my promised bride’s family to apologize.

"But he is going to wait until I speak with her and Rain first. Right…Father?"

He nodded slowly.

"But Madison, you need to understand that I will not allow anyone to come between my family and that includes the relationship my children have worked very hard to keep."

"I understand." My muse shifted on her feet. Moments ago, out in the hot tub, she seemed so confident striding around, but she was slipping again, exposing her raw self.

I walked over to the large brown leather sofa where a cream blanket hung and draped it over her shoulder. The only thanks she gave me was a silent one when our eyes danced with each other. She was still upset, that was very clear, but I was grateful she was playing along, at least temporarily.

The tension hung thick as my father headed toward the door, after leaving us with a lingering decree. "You have one week. After that, the holiday dinner will proceed—with the entire extended family. It's time they meet the newest member."

With Madison standing in the living room, he whispered, "Tell Ember."

"I will." I nodded, closing my eyes.

"This isn’t the type of decision you would normally make, Walsh. You are very calculated and thoughtful. I hope you know what you’re doing." He slammed the door behind him. The echo of the closing door reverberated in the silence, and I seethed in the aftermath. The gravel crunched under his departing footsteps, and all I wanted was to unleash my frustration, to scream and shatter something.

He was infuriatingly right. The truth grated on me like nails on a chalkboard, tearing through my usual rationality and forcing me to confront the unsettling realm of emotions. Rage consumed me as I turned back toward the living room. I directed my anger inward, furious at myself for allowing sentiment to cloud my judgment. My wife stood there watching from the living room, seething with her own discontent, oblivious to the lengths I had gone to to secure a life for her.

I had meticulously crafted a world for her, waited until the opportune moment, yet impatience got the better of me. I brought her here, married her, committed to sharing every day on this wretched planet with her. And still, she remained obstinately blind to my intentions, or perhaps I failed miserably in demonstrating the depth of my care.

Each step I took toward her felt like stomping on the embers of my emotions, anger surging through my veins. My father's words hung heavy, the promise of leadership slipping through my fingers. The physical weight of the realization pressed uponme. By the time I reached the living room, adrenaline and hatred coursed through me.

Madison turned, her eyes a mix of determination and challenge. If she wanted to engage in this battle again, I would come out victorious. The countdown to the impending family gathering had started, and the stage was set for a clash of secrets and revelations that would redefine the trajectory of our narrative. A story that I molded for her…but she just couldn’t see it yet.

So I would make her.

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Drop the blanket." His command hung in the air, leaving me frozen in place, wrapped in the blankets he'd draped over me.

Surveying the unfamiliar room, I took in the unexpected surroundings, realizing it was the first time I’d been invited into his home. It exuded a modern, yet inviting ambiance featuring an expansive, open space with an oversized brown leather couch positioned at the room's center. The area I stood in connected the kitchen to the living room. My eyes were drawn to a large TV mounted on one wall, while a large fireplace with a roaring wood-burning fire cast a warm glow throughout the room.

The decor balanced modernity and warmth, suggesting a bachelor pad aesthetic that leaned toward sophistication rather than a cluttered, college-kid vibe. My attention turned toward Walsh as he stalked over to me.

"It was a good game we played." I gave him a cocky smirk. "You make a good pretend husband. I almost believed you when you held my hand."

He stopped, and his eyes narrowed. "A pretend husband?"

"Yes."

He growled so low and deep it reverberated throughout the room, terrifying me. "Madison. Youaremy wife."

"No." I pursed my lips. "Because if I was your wife, then I would live in this house with you. My things would be here. My clothes would be here, and we’d be sharing a bed like the happy married couple we were."

He groaned again, rubbing his temples. I was pissing him off again, which was all part of my plan.

"I am going to fucking kill Enzo."

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