Page 35 of Weaponized

I am so in love with her. I’m still too afraid to tell her, but it doesn’t change the truth. I need to get my shit together, as she so eloquently suggested last night, or else I really am going to chase her away. She could do so much better. I never thought I could have someone like her. Someone who puts me first. Who lights up just for me. Who cares about how I am feeling, even through my rage.

“You need to get out of that big head of yours,” she says softly and kisses my shoulder.

“I am so fucking sorry,” I tell her gruffly. I begin to stroke her hair.

“Okay,” she whispers.

Wait. What? “Okay?”

“Yes, okay. I forgive you.”

She brings me to my knees, this girl. “Angel—”

“Baby. I need you to work on your temper when it comes to other guys talking to me. I know it’s hard because I hate when other girls look at you.”

Other girls? What is she even talking about?

“I will never betray you, Luca. Never. I wish you could feel confident in that. I wish you could trust me.” She chokes up a little. “I know you’d never hurt me. I shouldn’t have implied otherwise. I trustyoucompletely.”

Fuck me.I pull her on top of me. There’s a tear in her eye and it guts me.

“You are everything to me, Angel. Of course, I trust you. My reaction… I… Shit. I’ll get better.”

I would. I didn’t care what it took. I was going to be better for her. I had been making progress with my anger. I just needed to work faster. Shit, I’d find a way to kill the monster inside me for good. I’d bury him deep for her. Suffocate him, never to be seen again.

She nuzzles into me. “You’re everything to me too, baby. We’ll figure it out together.”

It’s not a love declaration. But, it’s close enough. I don’t deserve her, but I’m never letting her go.

* * *

Two days later, I get the phone call from my dad that I’d been expecting would come eventually. “Hey, Pop,” I answer when his name lights up my screen.

“Cormac O’Toole’s daughter?” He’s not beating around the bush. He doesn’t sound mad. I can’t quite place his tone yet.I tense a little. I’m well aware that we don’t have an alliance with the Irish.

“Gráinne,” I respond.

“Matteo says you are in love.” He sounds…curious. My damn meddling brother. I was going to tell my dad about her. Eventually. I was just enjoying our own little bubble for now. I wanted more time before the outside world—and the reality of our families—intruded.

But I don’t deny his statement. “I’d like you to meet her.”

He chuckles. “That’s actually why I’m calling. I’d like you to bring her to dinner on Saturday.”

“Why Saturday?” I ask suspiciously.

“Well, I do want to meet her, but there is a meeting—a dinner—and the Russians are bringing dates. I think it would show well if we also were there in similar fashion. Does Gráinne have a friend for Matteo?”

“No.”

“She has no friends?”

“She has friends, Pop, but I’m not involving her in our business.” It’s a ridiculous suggestion.

“You realize she is intimately involved in our business already, don’t you, son?”

“No. Notourbusiness. As far as the Irish are concerned, she doesn’t even really talk to her father. She and her siblings aren’t close to him.” I feel the need to set him straight. She’s not a prop or a tool or leverage. She’s mine.

“Well, her father is a fucking head case, so the girl is smart to avoid him. I was actually talking about her brother. I understand they are close. He’ll take over one day. He’s…workable. She’ll always be a part of the mix.”

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