Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Finn gives me a look like this conversation isn’t over. I completely ignore it and focus on eating. The food is incredible, mostly because it reminds me so much of better days, and the whiskey is enough to dull the constant low-level roar of bleakness in the back of my head.
“I’ll be honest, Pops, you haven’t called the whole family together in a while.” Seamus raises his eyebrows. “I’m starting to think we’re in trouble.”
“Deep shit,” Finn echoes.
“I’m guessing someone died.” Declan glares at our parents. “Someone died, didn’t they?”
“Someone’s always dying in our business,” I murmur to him. I don’t know why I’m making jokes now. I think it’s just my brothers bringing out the worst in me. But Declan snorts slightly, and that feels good.
“In a manner of speaking, actually, someone is dying.” Dad looks around like he just told an incredible joke. Beside him, Mom groans and shakes her head.
“Paddy, please, don’t do that.” She puts a hand lightly on his arm. “Just tell them.”
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Seamus leans back, looking concerned now. “If you’re about to reveal you’re dying, I better get the good sound system in the will.”
“Fuck that,” Finn says, snapping his napkin at Seamus.
“Boys.” Dad speaks through his teeth. “Listen to me.” He barks the command in his best clan boss voice, resonant with power and authority. That gets everyone’s attention, and the joking dies away. “Over the past few years, we’ve expanded the business much more than I had ever planned or anticipated. Our friends in city government and our allies in the police department have been much more useful than I ever dreamed. It’s been a good few years for the Whelan Clan.”
“Here’s to that,” Finn says, raising a glass.
Everyone takes a drink, including me. But instead of keeping my eyes on Dad, I’m watching Mom like a hawk, trying to get a sense of what’s about to go down. She’s smiling, but it’s strained, and she keeps glancing over at Finn. I frown and start wondering—
“But sometimes, growth can come with its own problems. Our source of good product hasn’t been able to keep up with demand. We’ve lost some territory purely because we couldn’t administrate it properly. In short, fucking growing pains.”
“Real pain in my ass,” Declan says, glowering like he wants to explode his glass with his mind.
“But I’ve been working on a solution. There’s an outfit in Philadelphia run by a man called Adriano Marino.” My heartrate spikes at that name, Marino. It’s the name that haunts my dreams. Sweat breaks out on my skin, and my heart begins to stutter. Dad continues, “They have access to good, high-quality product, and a lot more of it than they know what to do with. They’re growing, and we’ve decided that both our businesses will be stronger if we grow together. In them, we get a partner and a source of much-needed product. In us, they get access to the New York market. It’s a win-win solution all around.” Dad slowly looks at Finn and leans forward. “All it’s going to take is a marriage to make it official.”
Nobody speaks. Slowly, I look toward my youngest brother. He’s still smirking triumphantly, but he begins to realize what’s happening as he gets up to speed with all the rest of us. I watch his expression move from confused to consternated to frustrated all at once.
My mind whirls in circles. I’m trying to make sense of this. Trying to figure out which Marino member would be marrying Finn. Who makes the most sense? Who brings our families the closest?
Horror falls over me. I feel like Jack must’ve when my hands wrapped around his throat. My stomach lurches, and my head’s dizzy.
“Wait, you mean me?” Finn leans back, a hand on his heart. “You’re marrying me off?”
“Her name is Bianca Marino. She’s the Don’s little sister, and by all accounts, she’ll make a good wife. Clever, attractive, well-connected—”
I can’t hear the rest. Blood rushes into my ears. It’s pounding, pounding, pounding in my skull. I shove my hand into my pocket and grab the Chapstick, crushing it into my palm so hard I feel the plastic flex and nearly crack.
Bianca Marino.
There’s no fucking way.
This can’t actually be happening.
But Dad’s still talking, and Finn seems open to the idea, and now Mom’s looking at me.
“If it matters that much to the family, I’ll do it,” Finn’s saying with a casual shrug. “I should probably meet her first, right?”
“That can be arranged. I know this isn’t easy, but it’s a sacrifice we’ll all have to make sooner or later.” Dad glances at me, and I wonder if he knows. If any of them realize where I go after every kill.
I should be used to this feeling. This bitter, horrible numbness. This hatred boiling my guts. I’ve been steeped in it all my life, ever since I was little and learned how to kill.