Page 27 of Conall's Reign

I wondered if she had sat at a similar table and discovered that there was no way out. If she had realized that the life she thought she had was gone, that was the turning point for her. Was that the moment she turned into a bitter hag? Maybe it was a matter of perspective? Of deciding whether to move forward and make a good marriage? Maybe she had decided instead to make everyone’s lives miserable.

But my mother was the reason I was afraid of having children. I wasn’t sure how to explain this to Conall. My anxiety about being a wife or a mother began and ended with Carlotta Santelli.

“Frankie, are you alright?” Brody’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I forced a smile and lifted my glass. “Just soaking it all in,” I replied, not wanting to delve into the dark thoughts occupying my mind.

“Good luck with that,” Brody joked. “It’s all downhill from here.”

“Get out of here, Brody,” Conall muttered, his tone clipped but not sharp enough to convey any real threat.

Dinner wound down, but I wasn’t sure if it was because we had all had our fill or because Conall’s mood was steadily darkening. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was ready for his brothers to leave. He wasn’t even subtle about it, shifting in his seat and glancing at the clock as though they were overstaying their welcome. He’d been rearranging his silverware for the last fifteen minutes.

Finally, he placed his napkin on the table with a sigh. “I hate to interrupt the fun, but it’s getting late.”

Paddy leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Oh, come on, we’re just getting started. Frankie here hasn’t even had dessert yet.”

“I don’t believe Conall cares about dessert right now,” Brody said, giving me a mischievous wink.

I rolled my eyes and pushed my chair back. “I believe I’m the one who gets to decide whether I want dessert.”

“Not tonight,” Conall said firmly, standing tall. His voice carried the same authority he always wielded, as if he were issuing an order rather than merely making a suggestion.

The brothers finally took the hint, albeit not without a few more parting jabs. Paddy hugged me as he left and whispered, “Don’t let him boss you around too much.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Conall said from behind me.

Brody grinned as he opened the door. “If you need our help, just say the word.”

I chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Once the door closed behind them, the apartment fell into an awkward, almost oppressive silence. I leaned against the counter, arms crossed as Conall tidied up. Moving to help him, I began gathering leftovers and checking the cupboards for containers I could use. It took us only a few moments to clean up, but I immediately noticed that Conall’s meticulousness also extended to his kitchen.

“You weren’t subtle about wanting them to leave,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged and rolled up his sleeves. My mouth went dry at the sight of his corded forearms. “It’s our wedding night. I thought we’d earned a little peace.”

“Peace,” I echoed, my voice laced with sarcasm. “How romantic.”

He turned to me, his expression enigmatic. “It’s not about romance, Francesca. We both know that.”

My chest tightened at his words. Despite their truth, I loathed how easily they stung and how cold they sounded. I longed for romance in my life. Conall didn’t know me well at all, but didn’t all women desire a little romance? Nobody wanted to be pushed around and told what to do.

“Well, you got what you wanted,” I said, brushing past him toward the hall. “Excuse me, I’d like to find the guest room.”Mentally, I groaned. Why did I sound like a bitch?

“You’re not sleeping in the guest room,” he said, his voice firm and resolute.“We made a deal.”

He was right. If I wanted him to uphold his part of the deal. I needed to uphold mine. The pit in my stomach widened. I couldn’t say anything about it since I had agreed.

“This is our marriage,” he said, his tone softening slightly, though the steel remained in his eyes. “You may not have chosen it, but we’ll make it work. That begins tonight.”

I wanted to argue and lash out, but the day’s exhaustion weighed too heavily on me. Ultimately, part of me wanted this response from him. I didn’t want a marriage built on silence and anger. A marriage like my parents’. Still, I huffed and stormed past him, muttering as I headed toward the bedroom.I didn’t know how to feel right now. It had been a long day. First, there was the minion from Cosimo, and then this whirlwind. I didn’t even have toiletries here.

He crowded behind me in the hallway as I realized I had no idea where I was headed. There was a bathroom and then a bedroom that was clearly a guest room.

“Keep going. Up ahead, turn right.” The hallway branched off, with small windows showcasing the Brooklyn Bridge. “If you had gone left, you would have found my office,” he explained.

I did as he asked, and the hallway led to another set of double doors, which opened into the main suite. Like the rest of the place, it had been decorated in a modern style with minimal accents. I’d have to talk to him about decorating because I’d need to add something if I was going to make a home here. The space was eerily tidy and spartan, resembling a monk’s cell. It was creeping me out.

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