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At the door, he blows me a kiss. “Pleasant dreams, Sunshine.”

23

VALENTINA

Dazed eyes stare at the glass of water and the empty packaging. I gave myself to an O’Brien. A clan full of killers and uncouth villains. The one family at odds with mine, and I gave their only son something I can never take back.

There’s a twisting in my belly. Maybe it’s nerves, or disgust. Perhaps elation. But I can’t summon the appropriate reaction. I hate what he took—but I gave it away. That was my choice.

Whether it went to him or a stranger, it’s gone.

Briar O’Brien is forbidden. He is dangerous and full of secrets. And he’s been inside of me.

I hate him and love him. I want to throw my lamp at his head or toss him from my balcony. And I want to feel him again. This is all confusing.

Flinging off my blankets, I grab a sweatshirt and slip into a pair of leggings. Stopping at Roman’s office door, my cheek pulsates with pain from his slap. Usually, I’d retreat to my bedroom when we have our spats—it’s not the first time he’s used his hands on me—but I need to understand the phantom in my life.

Best place to start is with his enemy.

Knocking on his door, I don’t wait before peeking my head in. My brother barely looks at me as he scribbles his notes.

“What, Valentina?”

I swallow, biting my thumb. “Papa used to be friends with the old captain of the Irish clan, right?”

The pen pauses on the paper, but he doesn’t look up at me.

“They had a tense agreement.”

“Why?”

His gaze swings up, narrowing on my face. Irritation lines the wrinkles on his forehead.

“Why the sudden interest in the family business?”

I’ve always been curious, but the family rarely explains anything to me because I am a woman. We had a gentlemen’s agreement with De Luca until my brother soured it. O’Brien has been our enemy since they bulldozed their way into our territory.

Yet, when Ferguson O’Brien was the captain, he frequently visited my father’s club. If they were enemies, why? Wasn’t that forbidden?

“I want to know more about the O’Briens,” I reply softly. Roman huffs, nose wrinkling. “I understand if I marry Scipione, we’ll be their enemies as well.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“I only want to understand⁠—”

“Understand what, bimba?” He stands abruptly, pen rolling off the desk. “Yes, Papa and Ferguson had a relationship. Did you know he bargained for one of his daughters?”

I stand still, mouth hanging open. “What?”

Roman scoffs, planting his fist. Cruelty flickers in his eyes, and I swallow against the fear. He has the same gleam that Papa’s eyes had when he told me about Mama dying.

“After Mama died,” he spits it out like a curse, “Papa wanted a new bride. Ferguson offered Collins. He said he trained her to be the perfect wife—unassuming. And Papa was so excited to break in a new wife. He had only to wait until she turned eighteen. Logistics on the clan’s side. Too young, and the authorities would look into it.”

“But it didn’t happen.” My stomach gurgles.

Roman shakes his head. “No. Because that cunt O’Brien, Maeve, had our father arrested on bullshit charges. She sold us out to the feds, and left us like this.” He gestures to the desk.

“But you tried to marry her.”