I hadn’t been warned that she’d be in the meeting. I thought I’d have some time to prepare myself before I saw her again. But instead, I stepped inside and there she was, looking more beautiful than I could possibly have imagined. So beautiful, so grown-up, that for a moment I couldn’t quite believe it was her. Couldn’t quite reconcile the gorgeous woman sitting in front of me with the awkward, coltish, tomboyish girl that I loved more than a decade ago.
But it was her. Red-haired and blue-eyed, her formerly long and perpetually tangled Irish curls now tamed in a wavy shoulder-length cut, her freckles faded a little, probably from hours in an office instead of being out in the sun. Slender, fit, her dress slacks and sweater clinging to her and making me want to drink in every single line and dip and swell of her body. To find out what was the same, and what had changed. To relearn everything I once knew, and discover all the things I didn’t.
The biggest regret of my life is not taking Annie O’Malley’s virginity when I had the chance. Telling hernowhen I should have said yes. Untangling her hands from around my neck and walking away, back to the mansion where she couldn’t follow me without risking herself and me, back to my room where I finished myself off with the scent of her sweat still clinging to my skin as I came.
Where I cried for the first fucking time, knowing what I’d given up and what I could have had.
Except she’d never have been mine. It would never have been allowed. And if Ronan knew I’d been an inch away from taking his sister’s virginity eleven years ago, if he knew I’d so much aslaid a single finger on her, never mind that I know the taste of her mouth and the way her breasts felt in my hands, he’d put a bullet in my head the same way he did Rocco De Luca’s.
I was the O’Malley ward. One rung below a step-sibling, not quite family, but notnotfamily, either. I was sent to the O’Malley family to preserve a peace brokered between Rocco’s father, Giuseppe De Luca, and the late O’Malley patriarch, Padraigh. An old-fashioned tradition, a younger son sent as collateral, more or less—though I was the younger son of Giuseppe’s second in command, not Giuseppe’s son, since he didn’t have a younger son to give. I was meant to be a promise. A physical manifestation of an alliance.
I wasnotever meant to think so much of myself that I thought I could touch the Irish king’s daughter.
“What do you think?” Ronan’s voice startles me, and I have to force myself not to flinch. He was right when he said that I shouldn’t have stood on ceremony when I came in. That I should have strode in and taken a seat as if I was his equal—because that’s what I am now. Elio Cattaneo, Italian don in Boston. A man with power, and respect, and wealth.
Except I have to earn all of that, still. The accounts will be transferred to me today, after I sign the paperwork, and I’ll be wealthier than I could have ever imagined. But I’m under no illusion that Ronan couldn’t take it all away, just as he could take away the power and influence that he’s handed me. This is a gift, a boon, and I don’t feel as if I’m his equal. I feel like I work for him, and I don’t know how long it will take for that feeling to go away—for me to feel as if I have as much power as he does.
Maybe after men have answered to me, for a while. Maybe after I’ve had to defend my territory, make hard choices, manage the responsibilities of a don. Maybe when I go later to walk through the old De Luca mansion and decide if that’s where I’m going to live or if I’m going to stay somewhere else in the citymost of the time, this will feel more real. More like it’s all really mine.
I don’t know. But what I do know is that Ronan would take it all away in an instant, and more, if he had any idea what happened between me and Annie all those years ago. What I wished, in that moment when I saw her, could happen all over again.
I thought I’d put her out of my head. Forced myself not to think about her, because thinking about her also meant wondering who would take my place after I left. Who would be the first man to find out all the things I gave up—the taste of her on my tongue, the way she would feel when I sank into her, the sound she would make when she came on my mouth or my cock instead of my fingers. Who would marry her, make love to her, give her children? Whose ear would she whisper into instead of mine, who would she wake up next to, sleepy-eyed and hair tangled around her face?
For weeks after I left, I tortured myself with every one of those thoughts, shredding my heart into ribbons. I lay in my bed and imagined her next to me, pictured what it would be like to wake up next to her. When my hand found its way around my cock, it was her I imagined. Her I thought about when, reckless with grief over losing her, I lost myself in someone else.
I regret that, too. That she wasn’t my first. That I don’t even remember the woman who was, because all I could see was Annie, wishing that I’d done everything differently.
I could have driven myself insane. Instead, I forced myself not to think about her. To push the memories away when they came back. To stop seeing her face when I looked at any other woman. To create a life that had nothing to do with her, because she was never again going to be in it.
It feels as if all that carefully constructed scaffolding came crashing down the moment I walked into the office and saw her sitting there.
“It’s a lot to go over,” I manage, keeping my eyes fixed on the files. “De Luca’s family was established here. This is generations of business that I’m taking over.” I look up at Ronan, finally, forcing myself to focus on what’s in front of me instead of the woman that I’m dying to run after. “You think that this will be accepted? That I’ll be listened to? Obeyed? I’m inheriting De Luca’s men. You think they’ll be loyal to me? That the business connections I’m taking over will be fine with all of this?”
“They will be because I say so.” Ronan’s voice is hard. “I am the authority in this part of Boston. Ilya Sokolov is the other. You will, with my assistance, become the third, taking over the De Luca interests. But I can only do so much.” He sits back, drumming his fingers against the mahogany of his desk. “It’s up to you to command respect, Elio. To fill the shoes that you’re stepping into. If you walk into this new role with the same attitude that you walked into my office—” He shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe not.”
I nod tightly, drawing in a slow breath. “I hear you. I won’t let you down.”
Ronan nods. “I believe that, or I wouldn’t have called you back here to ask you to take over.” He pauses, his gaze fixed levelly on mine. “It’s up to us to do better than our fathers did, Elio. Yours served the De Luca family, and while your father and Giuseppe never countenanced the things that Rocco did, it’s your duty to be sure that you take the newly made Cattaneo empire in a different direction. And I’ll be watching to ensure that you do.”
It’s a thinly veiled threat—no, not even a threat. A promise. A reminder that while I’ve been handed power, I’m not the most powerful man in Boston… not even close.
“Annie can help you with any questions or issues regarding the financials.” Ronan pauses again, looking at me with an expression that suggests that he wasn’t blind to my reaction upon seeing her again. “I suggest you keep your meetings brief, though. She’s a busy woman.”
The meaning couldn’t be more clear if he’d inscribed it in crystal. I nod, feeling a clenching in my gut. “I understand,” I say calmly, but Ronan’s sharp gaze doesn’t leave mine.
“Good.” He sits back. “I don’t want to be made to regret my choice in giving you the power that I have. I hope that you won’t make any mistakes that might lead to that.”’
I swallow hard, feeling a spiral of disappointment somewhere deep in my stomach. But had I really thought this would go any differently? I’m equal in rank to Annie now, a man who, under any other circumstances, would be considered an eligible suitor for her. But there’s no chance in hell that Ronan was ever going to permit me to have anything to do with her that isn’t strictly professional.
I have to prove myself, first and foremost—prove that Ronan’s faith in me isn’t unfounded. Flirting with his little sister isn’t the way to do that, and it was never going to be.
“I won’t,” I assure him, and then glance at my watch. “Are we finished? I’m supposed to be at the De Luca mansion for a walkthrough in less than an hour and… you know. Boston traffic.” I smile, and Ronan’s mouth tilts up on one side as he nods.
“There you go. Remember who you are now,” he advises. “And yes, we’re finished for now. I’ll contact you to set up another meeting once you’ve had time to settle in.”
I nod, getting up from my chair. As I walk out of the office, I feel a weight on my shoulders, a feeling that, despite the honor of all that I’ve been given, I might have gotten in over my head.
—
