Page 44 of Scandalous Kingpin
“Either way, Ivy and I are on the same page about Sofia.”
Basilio shrugged. “Good for her, because sometimes love is a battlefield.”
Emory shot him a look of disbelief. “Are you quoting some cheesy song?”
Basilio gave an exaggerated bow in her direction. “In another life, I’d be a songwriter and help my sister find her lover.”
Emory shot him her best glare. “Someone already wrote that song and your sister can have as many lovers as she wishes. She doesn’t need anyone’s help. How about you stick to being a kingpin and serenade your own wife.”
Dante must have seen where this was headed because he rose from his chair and clinked his knife against the champagne glass to silence the small group.
I sent him a warning look, which only made him grin. “Ladies and gentlemen, today we celebrate the wedding of my brother and Ivy, no longer Murphy, but DiLustro.” Ivy smiled tensely. “Welcome to the family.”
I flinched when I saw her hand curl into a fist, clutching her wedding dress. For some reason, I wanted to reach out and unfurl her fingers, link them with my own. But I knew after my fuckup, she’d probably pull it back and punch me.
It was time to send everyone away and make things right with my wife.
If she’d have me.
I was enjoying the sound of Ivy’s chiming laugh as she beamed at her brothers. The pricks were protective, doting over her since they arrived. It was risky having them here, too close to Juliette and the shit that happened with Ivy’s father, but I couldn’t find it in me to regret the decision.
My wife looked happy. For the most part.
“Hello, son.” My papà’s voice pulled my gaze from my favorite view.
“Hello, Christian. Thank you for inviting Frank and me,” was Aisling’s greeting. I just nodded slowly, staring past her and onto the makeshift dance floor surrounded by flowers. “I have a gift for you.”
I didn’t turn to look at her. I couldn’t, not without thinking about my dark history. The sort of history that shaped me, destroyed my childhood, and molded me into this twisted, dark person.
She might have not participated in my torture like Vittoria, but Aisling had a hand in turning me into the fucked-up person that I was today.
“I have property in Ireland, and I’m giving it to you and Ivy.”
When I said nothing, my papà decided to chime in. “Christian, I believe a thank-you is in order.”
“I don’t have any need for property in Ireland,” I deadpanned. The truth was, I wanted nothing to do with her, but I didn’t think my father would take that information well.
“Nonetheless, it’s yours,” Aisling interrupted, tipping her chin stubbornly. I’d seen the same mannerism in Wynter, and while it didn’t bother me with my sister, it agitated me to see it on my birth mother. “I’ve already transferred it to your and your wife’s names.” I remained silent, my jaw grinding painfully. “I hope this gives us all a chance to start anew.”
I barked out a cold laugh. “Start anew? You want me to be cordial?” This woman, who left her child behind with astranger, had the audacity to show up here today bearing gifts? My papà opened his mouth but I didn’t give him a chance to get a word in. “Do you think Vittoria enjoyed raising your bastard child?”
Surprise flickered in his gaze, his expression grim.
“What is he talking about, Frank?” Aisling questioned.
“I have no idea, love.”
Tension crept through the space between us, seconds ticking by in silence while wheels turned in my papà’s brain.
“Unbelievable,” I finally said quietly as my eyes flashed with rage and my lips curled. “Please understand this, Aisling. Whatever you want from me, you’re never going to get it.” I let my words sink in before I continued. “So why don’t you do us all a favor and stop trying?”
I turned to leave, my pulse hammering, when Aisling’s words had my step faltering.
“I’ll never stop trying,” she shot back, her voice too soft for anyone else to hear her but Papà and me. “Not until my dying breath.”
My hands curled to fists and I kept walking, not sparing her another glance. She didn’t deserve it.
Chapter Twenty-One
