Her words sting like slaps, because she’s not wrong. I was careless. Naive. Too eager to trust Sam’s smile and easy answers. I feel my stomach twist as her voice hardens. She may be naming the wrong man, but she’s not wrong about me.
“You’ve disappointed your father, and me, in ways I can’t even put into words,” she says, and that cuts deeper than her anger. Her disappointment is worse than any punishment.
I can’t look at her. My eyes burn as I stare at the dress draped over her arm, pale and soft—like something that belongs to someone better than me. Someone worth all this trouble.
She smooths the fabric with her hand, her voice losing none of its edge. “You will marry Liam. Today. And you will hold your head high when you do it. Do you understand me?”
I nod, even though my mind is spinning. I’m marrying Liam. Today. This makes no sense, but I’m not sure it even matters anymore.
It should feel like chains closing around me, but instead, I feel…relief. Why? I didn’t want to marry him. I swore I’d never let myself be trapped in this life. But now? There’s a strange safety in the choice being made for me. I close my eyes. Breathe.
Liam is…complicated. Infuriating. He’s the last man I wanted to be tied to, but the idea of standing next to him, of letting his strength shield me for once, feels like breathing after I’ve been drowning over these last few hours. Maybe it’s because he’s already taking the blame for me. Maybe because nothing ever seems to rattle him.
Part of me hates him for this. He should have let me take the blame I deserve and walked away. The other part? The other part hopes he doesn’t change his mind. God. I never thought I’d sink this low. Wanting someone else to make my decisions.
Everything that happens next seems to occur in slow motion. The courthouse smells like floor polish and paper. There’s nothing romantic about the cracked linoleum tiles, the stale air, or the humming fluorescent lights. I don’t know why that surprises me—what did I expect? Flowers? Music? A priest waving a holy book and blessing our mob union?
No, this is exactly what it is. Business, dressed up as vows.
I clutch my purse tighter as my family files into the narrow hallway outside the judge’s office. Rafferty leans against the wall, quiet and contemplative, and Nolan, arms crossed, looks more like my angry bodyguard than my brother. My younger brother, Rory, keeps shuffling his feet. My two younger sisters, Neve and Kennedy, stand stiffly next to my mother, who looks like she might turn into smoke if she doesn’t keep fidgeting with the rosary in her hand.
And then there’s Liam’s family. His father, who radiates anger, doesn’t even glance my way. His mother looks pale—sick with worry—but she still gives me a kind smile that almost makes me cry. Behind them are Liam’s three younger brothers, all varying degrees of curious and amused, and Darragh, the ever-watchful second-in-command. He turns to stride down the hall, moving to where I saw two of the McGuiness bodyguards disappear around the corner. I assume Liam is with them, because I don’t see him either.
I turn to my oldest brother, lowering my voice. “How did we even get a marriage license this fast? Don’t they make you wait, or fill out paperwork, or something? And are they normally open this late?” It’s well into the evening now.
Raff tilts his head, the corners of his mouth quirking up like I’ve told him the cutest joke. “Tare Bear. Do you think our clan waits in line at city hall? Don’t worry about it. This will all get done tonight. Papers filed and everything.” He tweaks my chin.
Don’t worry about it? Yeah. Okay.
Nolan snorts behind me. “God, Taryn, after all that’s happened lately, do you still think we play by the rules?” He rolls his eyes.
I flush and stare at the floor. Maybe I am naive, but I want to punch my brother in the throat for that comment, becausetheymade me this way. “How can I be expected to know the rules when you’ve never shared them with me?” I hiss at him.
He has the grace to look guilty.
“I need to use the restroom.” I need a minute. I need to sit in a stall and calm my heart rate. Get away from my family and their pitiful stares.
I’m trying to breathe through my turbulent thoughts when I hear it as I round the corner.
“Poor Liam,” one of the Chicago men mutters to another, voice pitched low but not low enough. “Guess a girl like that doesn’t need much convincing to spread her legs—or her money.”
The laugh that follows is deep and mean, and I freeze, my back to them, heart pounding in my ears.
And then Liam laughs too—low and amused. He’s laughing with them. Agreeing with them. I may vomit. But before I can turn around, I hear the scrape of shoes, a choked sound, and Liam’s voice, jovial, but with a strange edge.
“Say that again,” he says, his tone razor-sharp. He chuckles drily. “Go on. I enjoy jokes aboutmy wifeso much. You might want to make sure everyone here can share in the fun.”
I turn to see that Liam has the man backed against the wall, holding him by his neck. The silence that follows is thick, tense, broken only by a muffled gagging sound as Liam’s grip on the man’s throat tightens.
“Go ahead. I like a laugh.”
“Liam,” Darragh warns quietly, like he’s seen this before. “Not here. Not now.”
A moment later, Liam steps back, smoothing the front of his jacket like nothing happened. He glances at me, catching my wide-eyed stare, and smiles broadly when he discovers me down the hall. “There’s my gorgeous bride! Ready, beauty?”
My heart is a mess of terror and something else I don’t want to name. I take his arm without question, allowing him to lead me back to my family and his. I’m too busy reminding my lungs of their function to protest.
Together, we step into the magistrate’s office, which is small and unremarkable. I can’t believe such life-altering decisions happen under fluorescent lights and water-stained ceiling tiles. There’s a fake ficus plant in the corner and a cheap desk that’s seen better days. I don’t have to look at my mother to feel her shame. To know this was not the grand ceremony she would have planned. To know her heart is breaking.
