Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“The Gallaghers? Really? How did you manage that?”
He gives me a wry smile. “Years of conversations. Months of hard negotiations. And a marriage proposal.”
I grin back, sipping my drink. “Marriage? Seriously? You already giving away your kids?”
“Not my kids, Connor. Like I said, I need you to cement it.”
I push my chair back as it hits me. He doesn’t move, his face showing nothing, as the words penetrate. I stand, shaking my head, and take a step back, my blood running into sludge in my veins. “You’re not being serious.”
“Her name is Sinead. She’s twenty-nine, beautiful, and very intelligent. Well-educated, connected to just about everyone, and already said she’s willing, God knows what her father said to convince her. She’ll make a good wife, Connor. Marrying Sinead Gallagher will guarantee my alliance with her family, and it’ll give your operation the biggest boost imaginable. With her by your side and her family’s influence behind you, the Maguires will grow exponentially. We’ll all profit from this.”
Fuck.
Oh, fuck.
He’s asking me to marry a woman I’ve never met. It’s a political arranged fucking thing, and it’s a Gallagher. That means access in ways I can’t begin to dream about. It means growth, investments, political favors—
It means never, ever touching Angie ever again.
Shit. Fuck. Even now, in this moment, she slips back into my head. Angie shouldn’t have anything to do with this decision—and it’s not even a decision, more like an inevitability—but a part of me rebels against this nightmare anyway.
Who the fuck is Declan to pick my wife? Who the fuck is anyone to tell me who I marry and who I don’t?
Angie’s face flashes through my mind, the taste of her, the feeling of my dick slipping inside of her, the moans, the gasps—
I’ll never have it again.
“I know it’s a lot,” Declan says, getting up to refill his glass. He brings the bottle over and tops me up. “I know you’re stunned. You’re probably trying to find an excuse to say no. But listen to me, Connor. You have to do this. Not just for me, but for yourself and your family. I know how hard an arrangement like this can be. You still can’t turn it down.”
He’s right.
Damn him, he’s right.
This Sinead Gallagher will change my life. She’ll bring new strength to my people, and that’s what a boss does in the end. That’s my obligation.
I sacrifice for the strength of the clan.
But a small, selfish voice still screams in the back of my head: what about Angie?
“When?” I ask, my voice coming out distant. I take a long drink.
“Two months. You can take a few days to consider—“
“I’ll do it.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure?”
“We both know there isn’t a choice here.”
Declan nods and there’s real resignation in his expression. “You’re a good man, Connor. I’ve made a lot of mistakes as the boss of this clan over the years, but you’re not one of them.”
“Yeah, I hope not.” I knock back my glass. Thousand-dollar bourbon straight into my stomach. “When can I meet her?”
“A few days. I’ll arrange it with her father.”
“And the wedding?”
“Everything will be handled for you, don’t worry.”
“Now I know why Casey seemed off.”
Declan sighs, eyes flicking to the door. “She hates this part of the job.”
“Can’t blame her.”
“But you’re doing the right thing.”
“I know. The right thing still feels like shit sometimes.”
He nods and I know he understands better than almost anyone. “Go home, Connor, get some rest. If you have second thoughts—“
“I won’t.” I walk to the door and open it. I pause, only for a second, thinking about Angie, but I have to let her go. She’s not in my life anymore. Not now, not ever. “Tell the family I said hello. I told Casey I’d stop back there and talk to the kids, but—“
“No worries. She’ll understand.”
I leave the office and pause in the dark hallway. The sounds of Casey and Declan’s family echo toward me. A child’s laughter, their ten-year-old daughter Nora, and the younger one Siobhan, an eight-year-old menace. I close my eyes, hand braced against the wall. I see myself with Angie, our kids surrounding us, we’re in a warm and well-lit living room, the little ones are playing with each other and Angie’s leaning against my side, and that was never going to happen, this sick and stupid fantasy, and now it’s dust. I picture it all burning. I shove it down deep somewhere I won’t ever feel it again.
Sinead Gallagher is my future, whoever she is, and Angie’s nothing more than a girl who works for me now.
4
ANGIE
Six Weeks Later
There are certain things I’m really good at not thinking about.
Like those enormous Australian spiders. Or rabid dogs chasing me in the park. Or the way Rick snorts and grunts when his allergies are acting up.