Page 10 of The Irish Reaper

I never do.

Soothing down my hunter green sundress with my palms, I knock softly and hear Papa’s voice immediately welcome me in. Hesitantly, I twist the knob and slowly step inside.

And before I can even close the door behind me with a click, Papa’s voice booms excitedly the moment I come into view.

“Haven, sweetheart,” he beams like nothing I’ve ever heard him do. “We have guests.”

My eyes lift, promptly discovering a man sitting in front of Papa’s desk. He has short white hair, almost like snow, and his stature is lean when he stands to his feet and cranes his body to face mine with a small smile.

“Haven,” Papa continues. “This is Aiden O’Clery.”

He continues to speak, continuing on I’m sure with the introductions, but I only hearoneword.

O’Clery.

He sent someone to make sure I didn’t speak a word about what had happened that night.

“It’s nice to meet ya, lass,” I hear Aiden say, drawing back my full focus to him.

“Haven, go ahead and sit.”

No.

However, I’d never say that out loud.

“She might want to stand fer this, Patrick,” Aiden counters, saving my entire life because I don’t want to sit next to him or by Papa. “After all, it is excitin’ news we’re gonna be tellin’ her.”

Oh, God, help me.

I don’t know this man, and I highly doubt he has something I need or desire in any capacity.

I wait impatiently, catching Papa’s green-glossed gaze, and he doesn’t seem pleased that I didn’t just follow a direct command, but it’s interesting to see how his demeanor changes with other people around.

How he’s just as moldable as I am.

“Very well,” Papa finally emits, taking a seat behind his desk and looking hella irrelevant compared to Patrick O’Clery.

Papa is bigger than him and carries more weight. On the other hand, Aiden exudes an air of authority and respect that is neither aggressive nor violent. I wonder if he has daughters and if he’s made a decision like my father to pawn off his children for the greater good of the clan.

From the looks of it, I’m leaning more toward not. And I don’t know why I’d think that way because I have no idea what he’s like behind closed doors, nor do I want to.

“Haven, there’s been an opportunity that has presented itself, and I think you’ll be very excited over the news.” I continue to lock eyes with Papa because I believe the exact opposite of everything he says to me nowadays. “You’re getting married.”

My stomach drops into the depths of somewhere in my body.

Not again.

My faith has been rocked by a higher power because it hasn’t been two weeks yet since I experienced the death of my short-lived engagement with Enzo, and now, he’s doing it again?

“To an Irish Catholic family,” Papa continues as if I care. As if any points he gives me are going to make me sway a certain way. It’ll never be that way because I don’t get to choose. I don’t get to fall in love.

I don’t get to do anything.

“Aiden O’Clery’s son.”

My focus slices over to said man, and I feel panic begin to bubble over my conscious state. Everything begins to blur. Fear begins to drown my breathing as I’m fully aware of how muchworsemy predicament is than it is now.

“We’re lucky to have ye, Haven,” Aiden drawls out in his heavy Irish accent. “Yer father has said a lot of good things about ye.”

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