My father did everything he could to sweep that happy occasion under the rug. I’m sure he thought it would end within the year.
I suppose,I think bitterly,in a way, he was right. Though I doubt he imagined my elopement would end with my wife’s throat slit in our family home.
Through it all, Aisling plays her part to perfection, showcasing an elegance and composure I hadn’t fully realized the fiery Irishwoman would be capable of.
But she knows exactly how to play the perfect Mafia bride, and it’s with increasing astonishment—and no small amount of awe—that I start to recognize the true value of the wife Callum Murray gifted me.
I wonder if he even knows just what an asset he agreed to hand over for the sake of revenge.
But I’ll be damned if Aisling doesn’t knowexactlywhat she’s doing. She knows how to play the game as well as I do.
And God, but she looks fierce and sexy as hell while she’s doing it.
Eventually, we make our way in front of Commissioner Doyle, and I can’t help but hold my breath.
This interaction matters far more than the rest.
He’s the man who can decide whether street violence stays buried under paperwork or explodes into indictments.
And with the looming Tanaka conflict, we need him on our side.
“Commissioner,” I say. “Good to see you.”
“Ah, if it isn’t one of Augusta’s sons. I was so sorry to hear of his unfortunate… demise. Your father was a good friend of mine.”
“Thank you,” I say gravely, recognizing the euphemism he chose for my father’s cold-blooded murder.
It doesn’t escape me that such a crime couldn’t go unpunished without the commissioner’s cooperation—but I can hardly fault the man for choosing to accept bribes to look the other way when that’s exactly what I need him to do in the near future to ensure my family’s revenge.
As if sensing the need for a change of topic, Doyle slides his gaze to Aisling, assessing. “And this must be your beautiful new wife?”
“A pleasure,” she says with a graceful bow of the head.
“I was hoping perhaps my wife and I might enjoy the pleasure of you and your wife’s company for dinner sometime. My father always spoke highly of you, and I would very much like to… develop the same kind of friendship you two found,” I suggest.
“Oh, that would be lovely,” Aisling gushes, her eyes brimming with enthusiasm. “I’ve heard about your wife’s efforts to increase funding for homeless shelters, and I’ve always hoped to get more involved in humanitarian efforts.”
The commissioner’s smile broadens an inch, his eyes lighting. “We’d be delighted. I’ll have my secretary reach out to get you on our schedule.”
Only after Commissioner Doyle excuses himself fifteen minutes later can I breathe easy once more, and Aisling turns to me with a knowing glint in her eye.
Say what you will about our issues at home—with her by my side at an event like this, we’re unstoppable.
The night rolls on, and with every interaction, the line between performance and reality blurs dangerously.
My wife leans into me when she laughs.
I murmur comments meant only for her ear. The room believes we belong together—and I almost could start to believe it too.
Then I feel an almost imperceptible shift in the air.
I feel the drop in temperature moments before I lay eyes on Tatsuo Tanaka, and Aisling glances up at me from the corner of her eye as I stiffen.
The old Yakuzaoyabunstands near the edge of the ballroom, rigid and immaculate, grief and fury etched deep into his face.
His black hair has far more gray in it than it did the last time I saw him.
He turns slowly, gaze locking onto mine, and a cold shiver runs down my spine.
