Fuck calm all the way off.
They’d already made up their minds.
This wasn’t negotiation; it was intervention.
They were taking Tierney away from me. No. She was mine.Mine. Besides, she didn’t want to get married. She loved her freedom. With me, she had a version of it. I respected her boundaries.
For the most part.
Fuck,fine, I had some room for improvement in the boundaries department. So what? At least I didn’t make her marry or screw anyone.
Not even me.
“Sit down, Son. This conversation is long overdue.” My father gestured to one of the recliners. I walked over to it and sank down. Everyone else sat, too. I trained my face to its usual jaded expression while my mind went underwater.
“This is about the Callaghan girl,” my father announced.
“Yeah, I did the math.” I blew a cloud of smoke from the corner of my mouth. “What about her?”
“Coppola and her… It’s a good idea.”
“No.”
The men in the room exchanged frustrated glances.
“You can’t marry her, Brother.” Luca clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“I know.”
“What do you think you’re doing, then?”
“Making sure no one else can, either.”
“So it’s true, what they say.” My father gripped his jaw, drawing a labored breath. “You’re still sweet on her after what she did to you.”
“Wouldn’t go that far.” Some of the coldness returned to my voice. “It’s a slight fixation. Totally manageable.”
“You’ve killed all of her lovers,” Enzo pointed out.
“And yet nobody ever found the bodies or conducted an investigation that led to our doorstep. As I said—manageable.”
“Stefano Coppola personally came to me when he landed this morning.” Tiernan spoke for the first time, leveling an icy, one-eyed glare at me. “He asked me for her hand in marriage.”
The silence that followed was so loud I was surprised my eardrums hadn’t exploded.
“I’m going to accept,” he finished.
“She won’t agree,” I growled, the coppery taste of blood flooding my mouth. If I’d bitten myself, I couldn’t feel it. I was numb all over and yet in excruciating pain.
“She’ll have no choice,” Tiernan countered. “My sister rarely does what’s good for her. Marriage will redirect her energy into something worthwhile—life away from the parties, loneliness, and fake friends.”
“Yeah?” I leaned forward, tapping my cigarette into an ashtray on the coffee table. “Doing what, sucking some stranger’s dick?”
“She’s always wanted to live by the Mediterranean Sea.” Tiernan ignored my words. “She’ll live a life of extravagance and pampering. No pressure or expectations. Far away from the baggage and mess of New York. Coppola will be good to her. He has a small child. She’ll have someone to fawn over. His first marriage was a love match, and his late wife had been happy.”
My brother-in-law looked almost defeated, and I knew why. Loving Tierney Callaghan was a messy business. I’d made the mistake of doing it once and barely survived to tell the tale. “Let her go. She needs this. It’s time for her to be happy.”
“How’d his late wife die?” I asked.
