She stops mid-sentence, the words dying in her throat. I can see the exact moment the realization hits her face.
“Realized the problem with that plan, yeah?” I ask, crossing my arms. “Hard to protect your brother when half the criminal world wants him dead.”
Her face goes pale. The fight drains out of her shoulders as the full weight of her situation crashes in on her.
“You bastard,” she whispers.
“I'm a bastard who understands leverage.” I pull out my phone and scroll through screens. “But since you seem to need a clearer understanding of your position...”
She glances at the phone, suspicion shadowing her gaze. “What are you doing?”
“Calling off Connor's protection detail.” I hold up the phone so she can see the number. “I think my family's resources would be better spent elsewhere.”
Her breath catches. “You wouldn't.”
“Try me.” My finger hovers over the call button. “One phone call and your precious brother is back to fending for himself against the Tribunal. How long do you think he'll last?”
She stares at me with pure hatred, but underneath it, fear festers like the complete helplessness of someone who's just accepted they’ve no moves left.
“I'll go to your fucking dinner,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Good choice.” I pocket the phone. “Be ready at six-thirty. Wear the black dress. The one that shows your legs.”
“Pig,” she growls. “And don't ever threaten my brother again.”
"Then don't give me a reason to."
Hours later, we pull through the estate gates at my parents’ house. Tierney's wearing the black dress I picked out, and her body stiff and tense like she's preparing for war instead of dinner.
That’s pretty accurate, knowing my family.
“Remember what I said about playing nice?” I ask as we walk up the front steps, eyeing the way the back dress clings to her rigid body. Full of rage but still totally fuckable.
“Remember what I said about breaking your nose?”
The front door opens before I can respond. Ma appears, looking elegant in a burgundy dress, her dark eyes immediately assessing the woman next to me.
“Tierney, this is my Ma… Allegra Viacava.”
“Bronx,” Ma says, offering me her cheek. Then her critical gaze cuts to Tierney. “And the new Mrs. Viacava. How lovely that you could join us.”
She doesn’t bother to hide the disdain in her voice, not that I’d expect anything more. Ma is fiercely loyal and protective, and Tierney is the reason why our family livelihood is hanging by a thread. She’s not going to waste energy with bullshit pleasantries that don’t cut like daggers.
“Thank you for having me,” Tierney replies, her voice perfectly controlled. I bite back a smile. I’d bet it’s taking every ounce of control she has to not lash out at my mother right now.
We follow Ma to the dining room, where Dad waits at the head of the table. Kingston and Livvie are to his left, Reign at the far end. Dad gives a half smile, warmer than Ma but still detached.
“So,” he says once we're seated and wine is poured, “how are you settling in, Tierney?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“Just fine?” Ma's smile has an edge to it. “I would hope marriage to my son would be more than fine.”
No one drinks yet.
Dad looks at Tierney and leans forward. “Connor is secure,” he says.
Tierney’s fingers rest lightly around the stem of her glass. I watch her pulse flicker in her throat before she answers. “Good, since that was the agreement.”
