Page 82 of Bartered Innocence

Tears well in my eyes and I blink at the ceiling so I don’t ruin my makeup. I glance around the men still kneeling before us.

“If they’ll have me.” I try to keep my voice steady, but the emotion makes it waver.

“Má bhrisim mo mhionn, go n-osclaí an talamh chun mé a shlogadh, ”Rian says, and I stifle a flinch when they repeat it back to him. My fingers twist into his shirt, and I’m clenching my teeth to stop myself from crying. We’ve practiced this for the past few mornings, whispering it to each other as we lounge in bed.

I look up at Rian and repeat it back in English, “If I break my oath, may the earth open to devour me.”

His eyes burn with fierce pride. “Go n-éirí an fharraige chun mé a bhá.”

Everyone else fades into the background as I turn slowly to face my husband, and we stare at each other.

“The sea climb to drown me,” I say to Rian.

He cups my face. “Agus go dtite an t-aer orm.”

“...and the sky plummet upon me.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before his lips crash to mine, and I melt into his hold. I deepen the passionate embrace, our tongues sliding against each other.

Sharp whistles have us finally pulling apart, and his brothers surround us before pulling me into hugs. I’ve barely registered who is holding me, then I’m tossed into another set of arms until I’m facing my husband again.

He’s holding up a large square black box and my heart skips a beat.

“I think one tattoo is enough for your perfect skin, so Cillian came up with an alternative,” Rian says, opening the lid and showing off the beautiful jewelry.

It’s a necklace, a dark silver cross with knots etched all over it. It reminds me of what’s tattooed on all of them. Rian takes it out of the box, holding it closer for me to look at it. I gather up my hair and he smiles at the gesture.

Heplaces the necklace around my neck, the Celtic cross hanging in the valley of my breasts. It’s beautiful and makes me feel a strong sense of belonging.

“If we get separated tonight, you press the middle of this cross and a knife will come out the bottom, okay? If you are in a position that you have to use it, aim to disarm, and never leave the blade in,” Rian explains, the deadly ire in his eyes sending a chill down my spine.

“Okay,” I whisper, running my thumb over the central circle of the necklace.

He smiles, his knuckle dragging down my cheek. “Let’s go paint the town red, my beautiful wife.”

* * *

We arrive at the gala hours late, most of the public already herded out and those who remain familiar with the crime syndicates in attendance. Similar to my wedding, the Italians keep away from the small group of Irish that accompany us. It reminds me of middle school dances when one side is boys and the other side is girls, and everyone is afraid to dance before the other. Rian said it was an open invite as a show of peace, but most are still too wary to be involved.

The ballroom is extravagant, with large pillars lining the room to a coffered ceiling with large squares containing gold designs inside. The soft lighting gives it a luminous elegance. A golden chandelier with shining crystals hangs in the center.

Now I understand the dress Rian chose for me and the suits the men have donned. Half the room has tables topped with beautiful flower bouquets and the other half is a polished dance floor where people in equally expensive attire stand around.

“I’ve heard about his galas, but never attended,” I whisper into Rian’s ear.

“Because you weren’t invited or because they didn’t interest you?”

I smile at the outrage in his voice and roll my lips to stifle my laugh. “A little of both. I’m sure if I had asked, Ricky would have taken me.”

“Hmm” is the only response I get, and I’m not sure it appeases any of his anger. I was confused when Rian said we were attending the ball after what happened at my father’s restaurant a few weeks ago, but he said it’s a way to show Luca we’re not intimidated by him.

It makes me nervous to be here, but I have faith in my husband and the brotherhood. My thumb rubs at my tattooed finger, spinning the heavy ring resting on top of it.

“We’re not staying long,” Rian says, kissing my temple as we watch Luca walk toward us with Gio following behind him.

Luca looks between us and then over my shoulder, as if expecting someone else.

“My brother isn’t here.”

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