Page 38 of The Devil We Know

My father smiles as he replies, “Well, I would think Matteo would be pleased. If nothing else, she’s not bad to look at.”

The men laugh, and my lip curls minutely before I’m able to school myself, now completely understanding what Antoinette was talking about when she said they will make your blood boil.

I remain quiet, my eyes downcast to not draw attention to myself. The less I have to say, the better because nothing I say at this point is going to help me see the light of day outside of this shithole.

The older man laughs as he says, “Well, he’s certainly pleased with her pure status. Imagine our surprise to find there’s still a virgin left.”

My father’s eyes dart to mine, and one of his brows lifts in such an out-of-character move that I have to suppress the urge to giggle. He immediately goes back to his typical, aloof coldness as he responds smoothly, “That’s right. Some of us still know how to keep our daughters in hand.”

The urge to snort is overwhelming.

Of all the ridiculous and insulting statements one could make about me, this one really takes the cake.

I grit my teeth and stare hard at the floor, so lost in my suddenly murderous thoughts that it takes me a moment to register that my father is saying my name.

My eyes jump to his, hopefully wide-eyed and innocent and not at all reminiscent of my inner feelings, as I respond demurely, “Yes, Father? My apologies. I’m so overwhelmed with the events of the last few days that I got lost in thoughts of the future.”

He presses his lips together, and the look on his face can only be described as incredulous, and once again, I have to suppress my urge to giggle.

“We just decided that you and Matteo will be married in two days’ time,” he replies coldly. “Everything will be taken care of for you, so all you have to do is put on a dress and show up and do your job. Do you understand?”

I nod. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

His hand comes out and makes a shooing motion that has me biting the inside of my cheek, and I quickly turn on my heel and head to the door for fear I will say something I will instantly regret.

The same woman leads me back to my room, and as soon as I get there, I slam the door shut and lean back against it, my heart galloping in my chest.

Two days is a lot of time when you fear you’ll die of boredom, but it’s a very short amount of time to figure out how you’re going to dodge the biggest bullet of your life.

And after Bobby, that’s saying something.

I know if it comes down to it and I find myself standing across from Matteo at a marriage ceremony, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

I think back on all the conversations I’ve had with Carolina and Antoinette about how to survive in this kind of life. Then, I think back on the common theme that all women fall back on time and time again. When you’re stuck in an impossible, kill-or-be-killed situation, you always go for the jugular.

And there’s no rule saying you can’t become a widow on your wedding night.

16

An Irish in the Shadows

Matt

I’ve been gone fortwo days, trying to pinpoint how I ended up in my current position.

Kaian, through his brief conversation with my people, established that Jessica being here is purely a coincidence fueled by her own curiosity and annoyance that I might have ghosted her.

It’s true that that wasn’t my typical behavior, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and I was hopeful she would just do what I said and move on with her life.

Hindsight being what it is, it was clearly a stupid idea and reaffirms my stance on clear and concise communication always being the best bet.

I enter my room, so desperate for my bed that I don’t even turn the light on. I drop my stuff at the end of my bed and walk through the dark room into the bathroom where I strip down and then proceed to take a quick, cold shower, exhaustion almost overwhelming me.

I pull on a pair of sleep pants as I exit the bathroom. When I step back into the bedroom, a movement in the corner catches my eye.

I groan, annoyance bubbling up as I reach for the light switch and say, “Really, Kaian? How many times do I have to tell you to sto—“

I stop talking abruptly as the light blinks on, and instead of being face to face with Kaian sprawled in the chair, as is his norm, I’m met by the piercing green eyes of an Irish mobster.

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