It’s exactly the opposite—they’ve integrated me.
I’m truly seen as a Callahan now.
The rest of the day passes in a blur.
For supposedly being a big family like Oona claimed, I don’t see anyone at Callahan House the entire day but staff and security.
Oona spends a long time with me, showing me around the home and the grounds. The estate is smaller than my family’s, nowhere near as sprawling or modern.
But I notice a common thread as we walk through the halls lined with family portraits and old Irish artifacts: size and modern luxury don’t seem as important to the Irish mobsters as family and legacy are.
Very different from Dad, who’s proud about enjoying the finer things in life.
Everything feels too fast. Just a week ago, I was Simone Langston, living up my spoiled, privileged life. Shopping on Fifth Avenue with Chantal. Brunching at Café Boulud. Answering to no one but myself.
Now I’m married off to an Irish gangster who makes me come with relative ease.
I block out any more thoughts about our wedding night. It’s bad enough I can still feel Ronan between my thighs.
That my pussy’s noticeably sore from his big dick. That he’ll always be the man who took my virginity on our wedding night.
…and it was exactly the opposite of how I always envisioned. Instead of loving and affectionate, it was angry and hateful.
I had pulled a blade on him. I nicked it from my cousin Karter and smuggled it up to the hotel suite, hiding it under the pillow. If I were riding Ronan, I could pull it out when he least expected it and give him a warning that I meant what I said.
He didn’t have an obedient little wife on his hands. I would never be that woman.
But it hadn’t gone according to plan. He easily flipped me over and used it against me. He fucked me deep and roughly without consideration for the fact that it was my first time.
If anything, he fucked me harder, as if to really drive home his crude lesson.
I came anyway, pussy clamping on his dick in a way that makes me ashamed in the light of day. How could I come after Ronan manhandled me like that? How did he drag the most toxic lust imaginable out of me?
It was painful yet pleasurable all at once, and as he finished inside me, a part of me craved more. Even as the other half of me was angry and upset and cussed him out.
I eat dinner alone… unless the staff count as company. The meal is expertly prepared and tastes excellent, but I’m left hollow after the fact.
What good is some first-class meal if I’m in a home I hate?
I try to call Mom, but she texts back that she’s busy at a charity gala representing LDS’s philanthropic arm and will call me tomorrow.
I sigh, staring at my phone.
Tomorrow.
It seems like Mom and Dad are already forgetting about me; they’ve married me off and no longer seem interested in what happens now.
I decide to turn in for the night. I head upstairs but refuse to sleep in the same bedroom as Ronan.
Instead, I find a private study with comfy sofas, bookcases, and a TV. I settle in there, making a makeshift bed with some blankets and pillows from a linen closet.
It’s as I’m setting up that I sense I’m not alone anymore. Glancing up, my heart does a flip inside my chest.
Ronan’s in the doorway. He’s finally home.
Against my stubborn will, I can’t help but notice how handsome he is.
…how good he looks even now.
