Page 77 of Wicked Ruin

He flips open a file on his laptop and turns it to face me. “Valentina's family has come through. Unlike what happened with the Kavanaghs—” A few keystrokes, and the screen changes. “They've already moved this much into our coffers.”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. That is a fuck ton of money we can't say no to.

“Excellent,” I say, trying to put as much fake enthusiasm into it as I can. Yeah, I want to know that what I'm doing is worth something, but what I would really love to hear right now is that Valentina's family has botched everything and the wedding is off, not that the alliance is in better standing than it was before me.

But I know what this money means. I knew when I shook on it. The Espositos don't just bring capital to the table—they bring reach. Legal reach. The kind that moves paperwork no Irish barrister has managed to shift in six years. Torin's name was part of the terms, buried halfway down a list of concessions, like it was an afterthought.

It wasn't an afterthought. It was the first thing Seamus asked for. If the Espositos can move that paperwork, they can move other things too. And if Lorenzo Esposito is half what his reputation suggests, having the bridge is worth more than the alliance itself.

But this is the job I agreed to. This is what it looks like when it works.

“Haven’t told Torin yet what we stand to win with this exchange.” I can tell by the guarded look on Seamus’s face that he doesn’t quite believe it himself. “And he has some concerns.”

“What kind of concerns?”

“He wasn't too happy when I told him who you were getting into bed with.” I try to hold my expression, but I'm not quite sure I manage it because Seamus gives me a curious look. Of course what he means is figurative, but I hate the idea of it all the same.

Seamus leans back, and something shifts in his expression—the easy brotherliness draining out of it, replaced by something older and more careful.

“Been gathering intel from America. The Rossis in Boston and the Romanovs in New York both corroborate that her family’s been in New York since before our fathers were born. They built their operation on the docks, back when that meant something. Extortion, racketeering, union strong-arming, the kind of thing that doesn't make the papers because the right people are paid to keep it that way. There were three murders attributed to her father alone, back in the nineties. Nothing proven. Nothing ever is, with them.” He pauses. “And Valentina’s brothers aren't any softer.”

“So it's best to stay on the in-laws' good side, is what you're saying,” I offer, with what I hope is an optimistic smile.

Seamus lets out a short laugh and scratches his brow. “You might say that. I just don't want to see you get into trouble. It would be in everyone's best interest, mostly yours, if you get along with the family.”

“Understood. I know how to play the long game.”

“Honestly, Declan, I know you do.” He says it plainly, without flattery. “It's why I thought you were best for this. I don't think there's a single man in this family better suited for it.”

Well, bollocks for me.

He walks me through a few more screens. I may be marrying a woman I can barely stand to be in the same room with, but at least the sacrifice will be worth it. At least it means something and will put everyone in a better position.

Especially my family.

Especially Bridget.

That was the part Seamus agreed to.

When I sat across from Seamus and told him I'd take whatever match he proposed without resistance, I had one ask. One.

Bridget stays untouchable. Permanent protection. Off the board, off the books, forever.

Everything else came after.

The thought settles somewhere in my chest that I don't examine too closely.

“Thank you, Declan. You know my father's health is failing.” Seamus's eyes droop, and he steeples his fingers, resting his chin on top. “The doctor says it's congestive heart failure. He's lived a good life, but this is genetic. He has time ahead of him yet, but we have to make sure the family is in good standing for when something does happen. And something always does, eventually. You know that as well as I do.”

Aye. I do.

We've been dodging bullets for years. Seamus secured the Kopolov alliance when he married Zoya—a messy affair, but it landed right in the end. Ashland put to rest everything that had to do with the Crowning business when he married Bianca. And now it's my turn. It was inevitable. It was bound to come around eventually.

“It's the younger ones I'm most worried about,” Seamus says.

Bronwyn. Daire. Colm. Lochlan. They've got years ahead of them, and no suitable arrangements in place yet. The sooner the family is settled—properly settled, bonded by blood and alliance and by the particular gravity of shared stakes—the safer all of them are.

“I understand.” I don't mention that rumor has it Bronwyn does indeed have a suitor. That's the family’s business to manage, not mine, and I am not in the habit of borrowing trouble when I have more than enough of my own.