I feel Matteo’s fingers tighten slightly.
“She’s engaged,” my father finally says.
“Not anymore,” Matteo’s father replies. “You’ll call it off. Now.”
My father laughs. It’s humorless. Dangerous. “You think you can just come into my house and?—”
“Your house?” Matteo’s grandfather steps forward. “You forget whose ancestors built these fucking walls, O’Brien. You’ve had your run on the south side for long enough. You think we didn’t know what you were planning?”
I freeze.
Do they know?
Do they know about the plan to kill me after the wedding? Do they know about the heir? The shipment ambush? Or are they playing a game?
“You want to start a war?” Matteo’s grandfather growls. “Fine. But know this, if a single hair on her head is harmed, it won’t be a war. It’ll be extinction, and we have the firepower to make it look like you never fucking existed.”
My father opens his mouth, but it’s Uncle Liam who loses it.
“You turned her against us,” he spits, pointing at Matteo. “You seduced her. Manipulated her.”
Matteo steps forward. Calm. Controlled.
“No. You did that. The second you put a price tag on her. She’s not your pawn,” he says clearly, loud enough for the whole room.
The silence that follows cuts deeper than anything else. Everyone hears the truth in those words.
My father spits, “Pawn? She was always a pawn. She was bred for this family. Her womb is part of the contract.”
Matteo’s grandfather lets out a low growl, like an old wolf smelling blood.
Uncle Liam steps forward, eyes narrowing. “You want to sleep with her, fine. Fuck the enemy. But if you think she walks out of here?—”
Matteo cuts in. “She’s not walking.”
Everyone freezes.
Matteo finishes, “She’sleaving.”
That’s when one of my cousins pulls a gun.
Milo’s faster. His own weapon is drawn and pointed before I even blink. Marco pulls his from his belt, aiming directly at Liam.
And Matteo?
He doesn’t flinch. He’s already moved between me and the barrel. “If you draw steel in front of my blood,” Matteo’s grandfather growls, voice low and deadly. “You best be ready to bury yours.”
No one moves. No one breathes.
The tension snaps like wire. The O’Briens don’t lower their weapons.
But I step forward.
“I was born in your cage,” I say. “But I won’t die in it.”
Liam’s face darkens. His hand lifts—But Matteo’s already in front of me. “Touch her,” he says, “and I’ll burn your house down with you in it.”
More footsteps behind us. Matteo’s uncles. His cousins. Guns everywhere.
