I stepped forward and Antonio’s hand grabbed my arm to hold me back. I shook it off and came behind Mateo, my legs slightly shaky. I placed my hand on his bicep, wrapping my hands around it.
“Mateo, they came to have dinner,” I murmured low, my lower lip trembling. I hated to feel so weak. “Please, don’t let him get to you.”
Shit, and I told Marissa to bring Declan to the wedding. What the fuck was I thinking?
Those two seemed like they hated each other, fuel and fire.
One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three heartbeats.
Mateo eased the grip on Declan, but his hand was still on his neck. I held my breath, scared of what would happen next.
“Don’t look at my woman,” Mateo gritted. I could hear the tension and rage in his voice. This was the side of him I haven’t seen before. The violent and ruthless man. This side of him I wasn’t accustomed to.
“Mommy, Mommy,” I heard my daughter’s squeal, running past everyone, oblivious to the tense situation. “Look, Aunt Mari gave me my own diamond.”
My eyes took in the situation with horror; everyone’s guns out while my daughter ran through the middle of the battlefield.
“Emma, go back to Aunt Marissa.” My voice shook with fear, my eyes wide as I took in her little form in the midst of all these men that held their fingers on the trigger. It was too late, she snuck past Antonio and ran straight towards me. I let go of Mateo’s arm and picked her up into my arms.
“Look, look Mommy.” She shoved her chubby hand in front of my face and my hands visibly shook as I took her left hand with little insert tubes.
“I love it,” I choked out the words, brushing my shaky fingers over the beautiful bracelet. I didn’t want my daughter to see guns all around her. “What’s that?”
Emma lowered her head, studying the little diamond stud I pointed to. While she was focused on that, I raised my head and everyone’s eyes were on me.
“Please, no guns,” I mouthed, barely able to move my lips. I wasn’t sure who I was asking or telling. “Please,” I begged on a whimper.
Mateo spat something in Italian and his men lowered their guns, then Declan Jr. issued a command in what sounded Gaelic and his men did the same. I exhaled a shaky breath and felt Mateo’s hand on my back. I leaned lightly into his touch, needing it as a rock against the waves of a stormy ocean.
“Is she sick?” Declan’s mother asked, her wrinkled hand reaching for my daughter.
Emma raised her blue eyes, meeting Aoife’s gaze, and with a startled realization, I noticed the resemblance. Emma had their eyes, the same exact shade and color of blue. Emma smiled and stretched her chubby arm to Declan’s mom.
“Look, it sparkles,” she beamed.
“They are beautiful,” Aoife spoke softly, a weird gleam in her eyes. “But you are more beautiful.”
Emma nodded seriously. “Mommy says that too. I’m the princess.”
A shaky smile played on my lips, and I squeezed my daughter closer to me. “Yes, the fairest one of all,” I whispered.
Emma started wiggling. She was done with me. “Down,” she demanded.
I slowly lowered her down, not wanting to alarm her when in fact I wanted to keep her close to me amidst all these lunatics. Marissa came up behind me.
“Sorry, she took off,” she muttered in my ear. I nodded and stood back up next to Mateo.
I caught Declan’s eyes on my daughter, a shock on his face and then his eyes turned to me. There was something in them I couldn’t quite place, almost sorrow and regret.
“Declan.” Mateo’s warning growl had Declan shifting his eyes from me to Mateo.
“Relax, Mateo. It is clear as day our beautiful Brianna has eyes for nobody but your old ass.”
I could hear Mateo grinding his teeth, trying to contain his rage.
“Umm, you are similar age, aren’t you?” I retorted dryly, although my nerves were still shaken up. A second of silence and Declan Sr.’s booming laugh echoed through the restaurant, startling me.
“Is she sick?” Aoife repeated the question, pointing to the tubes on Emma’s left lower wrist.