Silent Vows: Chapter 10
Silent Vows: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (The Byrne Brothers Book 1)
Eavesdropping is perfectly acceptable if your life hangs in the balance. At least, I told myself that while I stood outside my fatherâs office door, hovering as close as I dared get without jiggling the door. Iâd heard Conner arrive minutes before and hurried downstairs the second the office door had closed. The two were discussing the alliance and wedding plansâI couldnât not listen.
âAcceptance hasnât been an issue, but I think it would be wise to select a neutral site for the ceremony.â The deep melodic current of Connerâs voice flowed like silk. As always, he seemed perfectly at ease.
âAgreed,â my father responded. âI suggest Saint Francis Xavier in Midtown. Itâs one of the few large enough to hold both contingencies and isnât affiliated with any one group. Plus, Midtown gives us the best options for the reception. I donât want to have to limit our guest list.â
âI canât imagine the church would be available on such short notice.â
âYou let me worry about that.â My fatherâs voice was tinged with sly mirth. âWe agreed on August first, and I see no reason to change it.â
August first? Holy crap!
That was only two short weeks away. I knew things would move quickly now that the engagement had been officially announced, but two weeks was no time at all.
Despite my desire to escape my fatherâs reach, the prospect of such a life-altering event happening so quickly made my head spin with tendrils of panic. I was so distracted that I was caught off guard when the door swung open, and I stood face-to-face with Umberto.
A fresh wave of heart-pounding terror overtook me.
How could I have forgotten about him? Dad always kept him close, and though the discussion had been taking place comfortably on the far side of the room, I hadnât accounted for the extra variable. I was too shocked to even improvise an excuse.
Mouth agape and eyes wide, I floundered as all three men stared at me.
âMy apologies, Conner. It appears my daughter has forgotten her manners.â My father slowly rose from his desk chair, eyes spitting fire my direction.
Connerâs gaze slid from me to my father ever so briefly before he waved his hand dismissively. âItâs natural for her to be curious,â he said, voice dripping with indifference. âYou know women and weddings. Iâm glad sheâs here, actually. I needed to speak with her. Might as well do that now before I forget.â He stood without waiting for a reply.
âI suppose I have a minute,â Dad clipped, not attempting to mask his disapproval.
Conner continued toward me as though completely oblivious to the warning in my fatherâs tone. I didnât buy it for a second. The Irishman knew exactly how fine a line he walked, yet he simply didnât care.
I backed away from the door, my heart an insistent drum pounding in my ears.
Once Conner pushed past a surly Umberto, he led the way to the living room and out onto our back patio. It was a warm summer morning, yet my arms pricked with a sea of goose bumps when Conner speared me with a penetrating arctic stare.
âI thought you were smarter than that, Noemi,â he said quietly.
Each of my vertebrae fused stiffly together, my jaw clenching tight.
How dare he condemn me when he had no idea of the position I was in. Yes, I needed to be more careful, but it wasnât his place to reprimand me. Not yet, anyway.
I desperately wanted to lash out and spew the venomous words nipping at my tongue, but I hadnât brought a notepad with me. I was manacled by my silence.
Conner heaved a sigh and extracted his phone from his jacket pocket before opening it to the notes app and handing it to me.
He was giving me the chance to respond, though it was clear he wasnât thrilled about it. The gesture cooled my anger. Just a smidge. He was still a jackass.
You donât know anything about me.
He read my typed words, then steadied stormy blue eyes on my face. âI know youâve lived under that manâs roof all your life and should know better than to be so careless.â His head tilted a fraction as though something had just occurred to him. âUnless ⦠disobedience is new to you.â He took a tiny step forward as though he wanted to crowd me but knew we were being watched. âJust how sheltered are you?â
How had this conversation strayed so quickly? From worry to anger to incensed embarrassment in a handful of heartbeats. Conner had a natural ability to keep me off balance.
I crossed my arms over my chest and leveled him with a stare, unwilling to answer.
His turbulent gaze flared, hungry and dark as slate. âHave you even been kissed?â His voice lowered to loose gravel on asphalt. Deep enough to make my insides quake.
The answer was yes, but I felt an intense need to stand my ground. I didnât want to set the stage for this man to see me as a naïve pushover. And besides, it wasnât any of his damn business if Iâd been kissed before.
I snatched the phone out of his hand and began to type.
Did you burn a man alive?
His responding smirk chilled me to the bone.
Why? I shoved the phone back at him.
Conner typed rather than voiced his reply.
Because he deserved it.
âNow answer my question, Noemi.â He lifted his thumb to drift along my bottom lip, the touch lighting a fire in a much more intimate part of my body. âHas another man had his mouth on yours?â
I refused to answer. I could hardly even breathe.
His stare lowered to my lips, and my treacherous body listed toward his like a reed helpless against the summer breeze. That was when I realized he might just kiss me there in plain sight. It was incredibly dangerous. I had no way to gauge my fatherâs reaction, yet I was consumed with the need to know what it would be like to have someone so compelling and overwhelming lay claim to me.
Yes, Iâd been kissed by two different boys in high school, but I doubted those docile encounters would compare to the way Conner would make me feel. Just the look in his eyes promised to ensnare my senses and transport me to a place without reason.
Fortunately, Conner had better control than I did. He pulled away, leaving me shamefully cold and adrift.
âWeâd better get back inside,â he murmured absently, the frayed edges of his voice the only sign heâd been affected at all.
As I followed him back inside, it occurred to me that his ploy to speak privately with me had been nothing more than a way of defusing my fatherâs anger. Conner had been protecting me in his own abrasive way. Iâd have to remember that the next time he irritated me, which he undoubtedly would.
I hurried upstairs without looking in my fatherâs direction. It was a small mercy he let me go without more of a reprimand, but that was only because he had decided to wait until later when we were alone so that he could spew his venom unobserved. Iâd been quietly reading in my room when I sensed his malicious presence in my doorway.
âYouâre just like your mother, sticking your nose into things that donât concern you.â Dad stalked closer, lifted the delicate bell pendant necklace from my chest. I prayed he didnât rip it clean off me, but he only sneered instead. âYou may be out of this house in two weeks, but Iâll still have Sante here with me, so donât get any stupid ideas in that head of yours.â He dropped the necklace and glared. âYou forget your place again, and I wonât care whoâs there to witness. I will teach you some respect.â
God, I wanted to launch my book at the back of his head as he walked out of my room. I wished just once I could stand up to him and tell him what a pathetic coward he was. To free the acidic spitefulness that burned my tongue whenever he targeted me with his egotistical narcissism. Even better, I wished I could make him pay for what he did. Teach him a lesson.
Would marrying Conner lead to a lifetime of this same frustrated helplessness?
My fiancé had stepped in to de-escalate the situation with my father, but that didnât necessarily make him a good man. He was a criminal. A bully, in a way, though I didnât feel the same sense of impending doom around him as I did with my father. In a sick way, I almost enjoyed the push and pull with him. Something about him drew me in and made me feel alive. Was I naïve to think he was different?
He burned a man alive, Em. How different can he be?
Ugh. What a mess.
I picked up my phone, needing a distraction and remembering Iâd asked Pip for information on Conner.
Me: You find anything?
Sheâd know what I meant.
Pippa: Was just about to send you an email.
Pippa: K, done!
I opened my email and clicked on the message as soon as it appeared. Dad had access to my account, but I didnât think heâd care about Pip sending me info on Conner.
Hereâs what I could find. Up until recently, the Byrne family was headed by Jimmy, Brody, and Tully Byrne, along with help from Connerâs dad, Seamus Reid. Two weeks ago, Brody was gunned down outside one of their clubs by Albanians. Tully always had a more passive role, so now itâs mostly Jimmy running things. Rumor has it, the younger generation is starting to take overâOran, Brodyâs son, and Keir, who is Jimmyâs eldest. Conner is right there with them staking his claim. The group operates illegal gambling clubs and runs an underground fight circuit. Theyâve scraped and clawed their way back to power. Not gonna lie, they sound pretty ruthless.
I couldnât find much on Conner individually. Heâs in his late twenties. Only child. No police record, which seemed kind of surprising. Heâs linked to the gambling side of their operationsâruns a club called Bastion. Thatâs about it.
I hadnât known about Connerâs uncle. Had they been close? No matter how irritating my fiancé could be, I felt bad for his familyâs loss. I knew what it felt like to lose someone close. In my gut, I didnât think he was so callous as to be unaffected by that kind of cruel turn of fate.
Me: Thanks, honey.
Pippa: Not sure how I feel about this.
Me either, Pip. But it doesnât change anything.
Me: Thatâs the world we live in.
Pippa: I guess.
Pippa: I had just hoped after everything thatâs happened, youâd find your happily ever after. Not this.
My cousin was intrepid and sometimes even seemed fearless, but I knew inside she worried just like the rest of us. Instead of adding to her burden, which wouldnât help anyone, I tried to be optimistic.
Me: You never know, Pip ?
If Iâd learned anything in the past year, it was that life could change in the blink of an eye.
People died. Fortunes changed.
I preferred having some semblance of control over my life, but if I had to rely on a little luck, so be it.