Someone speaks from beside Aiden, and I wrench my gaze away from him, realizing there are other men with him. I recognize them too. Aiden’s brothers. I can see the boys I remember in their hard, stoic faces, three boys I went to school with and knew.
“That’s not—” My father begins, but they ignore him.
Moving as a unit, they all pull up chairs and sit down with us. There isn’t a lot of room for them at the table, but they make room, all of them imposing and dark as omens.
Lachlan folds his arms, leaning back as he studies my father. He’s the oldest of the O’Reilly brothers, with his hair like Aiden’s and his eyes a forest green. He’s as tall as ever, like a model, his expression one of collected power.
Is he the one in charge of their organization now? He must be. Even with my limited knowledge of the mafia and my father’s world, I know Lachlan was the heir to his family name.
Connor and Finn sit on one side of Lachlan, and my gaze flicks over toward them, cataloging all the ways they’ve changed. Connor looks like he’s made of pure muscle, as if he’s spent all of the time between high school and now boxing or fighting. His dark blonde hair is messy, his brown eyes as unyielding as earth. Finn, the youngest brother, looks a bit rough around the edges, his eyes dark and a slight hint of stubble on his jaw, like he’s had a bad week—or maybe a bad few years.
There’s an unmistakable stony bond between the four of them. It’s clear in the way they position themselves, squared up to the table with grim expressions.
They look like they mean business, and it suddenly occurs to me that I should know what business this is. I’m out of the loop. I have no way to help my father.
“One thing you should know about me is that I’m a cautious man. Careful. My brothers and I don’t take unnecessary risks, and we like to play things safe,” Lachlan says. He glances at me casually, and I wonder if he’s trying to get me to leave.
But fuck that, and fuck him if he thinks I’ll just get up and walk away right now.
I know what can happen in this dark world, this underside to the regular world. I’m not about to leave my father alone.
Dad’s hand curls, gripping his napkin. “So, you’ve come to talk to me about being careful?”
“We’ve come to talk about insurance,” Lachlan explains, his tone even and measured. If this wasn’t so terrifying, I might find his voice calming. “You’re not trustworthy. Your words are useless.”
A spike of liquid anger shoots through my veins. I’m not sure what context or information I’m missing, but I know my father. He’s not a liar.
Finn crosses his arms. “It wouldn’t do to trust a man who lies to the ally he cheats.”
“This needs to be official,” Lachlan continues. “Unfortunately, we can’t simply do this as business partners.”
My father’s hand is still tight on the napkin. He’s angry—more than angry, I think he’s furious. He’s always been calm and collected in his meetings with the mafia. He’s always been a patient man.
A spike of fear strikes the middle of my chest. Does he know?
I never told him about what Aiden did to me in high school. There’s no reason to think anyone told him. Not after all this time. But why else is he so angry at them?
“What do you mean?” Dad finally asks. “What is it you need?”
Lachlan leans back in his seat. His gaze flicks to Aiden, then back to me, and my stomach twists.
“Your daughter,” he says simply. “She has to marry Aiden.”
CHAPTER5
Rose
My heart drops like a lead weight. One of my hands starts to fly to my chest, and I barely keep it locked to my side, trying not to let anyone see just what I’m feeling.
Marry him?
My first instinct is a confused flurry of outrage and defiance. I’m furious that anyone would presume to trade me off like some kind of prize animal, married for some kind of contract or agreement.
Despite myself, I find my gaze drawn to Aiden. I’m not sure what I expect to see, but I find him looking at my father, not at me. His face is still stony, his expression unreadable. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, or if he knew about this when he came here.
I don’t know if it matters. I don’t know if it would be better that he planned this. Some warped part of me tries to reason that maybe he offered himself as an option because we knew each other once.
That can’t be true. Things ended so badly with us, and from the look of him, I don’t think he’d agree to marry me if he had any other choice.
