Then again, my father did owe these people millions of dollars, so it shouldn’t be a revelation.
Mara leads me through a white lacquered door, which turns out to be her bedroom. She points at a set of double doors that I assume lead to a bathroom. “Head in there and strip to your panties. Some of these dresses will require a strapless bra due to their cut. I’ll pick out a few to get started, and then we can go from there.”
It doesn’t even occur to me to argue. That’s how I find myself practically naked with her passing me several dresses through a cracked door. I’ve barely known the woman for an hour, and she’s already seen more of me than my primary care physician.
We start with a classic sheath that she nixes right away. “Too plain,” she dismisses. “I thought maybe it would read as elegant, but you outshine the dress, and that simply won’t do. I prefer for you to complement each other. You know?”
I don’t, but I change into an A-line satin accentuated with pearls next. This she also dismisses after a moment. “No way in hell. Too sweet. I want you to be sexy, sophisticated, and unattainable. This isn’t only your wedding reception but it’s also crucial for Aiden.” She doesn’t elaborate, and I’m too intimidated to ask for more information.
After several more, I wonder if we’re ever going to find the right one. I almost beg her to choose any of them when she finally gasps. The top half is a corset, lifting my breasts and cinching my waist to almost nothing. It was a good call on the bra because I couldn’t wear one anyway, not with the drawstring front that leaves a strip of skin bare from my naval to my cleavage. Satin material clings to my hips, bares my thigh with a daring slit, and falls to my feet.
“This is definitely it,” she says. “It’s the perfect amount of sexy and elegant.”
I lift my brow in the reflection of the dressing room mirror. “And we want me to look sexy at my wedding reception?”
Mara’s throaty chuckle fills the small space. “We want you to look like someone everyone wants, but can’t have.”
“If you say so,” I answer. “It’s a beautiful dress. Thank you for helping me. I like shopping, but I appreciate someone else’s expert opinion for occasions like this.”
“It wasn’t without a reason. I have a favor to ask.”
A ball of apprehension twists in my stomach. “A favor from me?”
“I’m worried about Aiden. I know you have no reason to trust him, but if he comes into any trouble, any at all, I want you to call me. Give me your phone, and I’ll put my number in.” If she’d asked, I may have said no, but I find myself passing her my phone without complaint.
Her red nails flash as she taps the screen to put in her contact. “Why are you worried about him?” I ask when she hands it back to me. I text her so she has my number, just in case.
She huffs out a laugh, and her lips twist to the side. “There’s always a reason to worry about him. He’s Cian’s favorite,” she makes quotation marks around the word, “if he could have one, you know? But he’s not the sort of person you want to find yourself attached to, if you know what I’m saying.”
Thinking of my father, I nod. “Aiden mentioned he may retaliate for what we’ve done.” I press a hand to my bare throat. Isn’t that something I should want? If he’s taken out and I stay away from the crossfire… that’ll be good for me. Right?
“A man like Cian doesn’t tolerate big moves without his prior approval.” She lifts a shoulder. “I could be wrong. Maybe he won’t care. But a man like Cian hates being outmaneuvered. And even worse when a woman has a hand in it. I don’t want to frighten you,” she pauses, shrugs, “then again, fear is a goodmotivator. Youshouldbe frightened. These aren’t people who fuck around.”
“Aiden can take care of himself.” I shiver at the memory of him killing Dufresne.
“Ah, yes, your little tryst at the masquerade,” she says. Jesus, fuck. Can the woman read my mind? “Aiden may be his enforcer, but Cian is the kingpin of one of the most powerful crime families in the world. In Ireland, he may as wellbeking. There isn’t a pie he doesn’t dip his finger in. If you want to have a business, run drugs, guns, or hold a political office, Cian’s approval is a must-have before you do.”
I swallow hard, suddenly feeling like the corset I’m wearing is too tight. “And if you don’t?”
“Then you’re dead,” she answers simply.
A chill rolls over me. “And what does O’Connor have to do with it?”
She sighs and ruffles her hair with a hand as she gathers up the discarded dresses to put them back on their hangers. “If he had the balls, he’d kill me for telling you, but because he’d never touch me, I’m going to tell you anyway. Aiden’s father, John O’Connor, was the original kingpin. Cian was his best friend. When John and Cian began to disagree on how the organization should be run, Cian slit his throat.”
I’m frozen to the spot as I listen, imagining Aiden as a boy. What growing up like this must have done to him. Is that why he can be so commanding? So cold and ruthless?
“Anyway, Aiden witnessed the whole thing. Cian made him and his mother watch his father bleed out. Kept them restrained so they couldn’t help or get away. It basically drove his mother insane. She loved John O’Connor with every fiber of her being. If you believe in love, that is.”
“Cian sounds like a monster,” I say in a hoarse voice.
“He’s worse,” she promises.
“You think he might kill Aiden next? If that’s the case, why hasn’t he done it already? He’s had years. Why keep him around?”
Mara huffs out a laugh and takes the dress I’ve been clutching from my hands. I follow her out of the bathroom as she places them back in her closet. She leads me to an elegant office and shuts the door behind us. I turn down an offered shot of vodka, I think, and after she knocks it back, she continues.
“Because he’s a twisted fuck, darling. After he murdered John and let his body rot in the courtyard for nearly a week, Cian forced Aiden’s mother, Mary, to marry him.”
