Chapter 21

The warm summer breeze flows through my hair as I walk along the beautiful trail just off the coast of Ireland. The day could not have been more perfect. Having just turned eighteen, Cillian brought me out for a day date. Ever since we turned sixteen, we had been flirting with the line between dating and close friends.

It never felt right for either of us to be with other people, and with how strict my father was about boys, Cillian was the only one who had ever been in his good graces. Well, maybe not good graces, but he at least left us alone together.

I shiver, feeling the wind change. It's something most people from here recognize, and just as I turn to Cillian, a warm rain storm breaks out. We begin to laugh as we run up the hill to the deserted castle we once played silly games in.

Just as we duck inside, Cillian grabs my arm and spins me so my back hits the wall lightly. I gasp, not from the hit, but from the look in his eyes.

"I'm done pretending, Ness. Are you done too?" Sincerity and longing stare back at me, so intense I want to say no. I want to stay in this safe place because I don't know if my father will let me keep him.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he grins and gently tucks a stray hair behind my ear. "I asked your father already. And Enya."

My mouth drops open and his thumb finds it, gently marking a path that I swear I can feel all the way in my toes.

"Ness, A stór, will you be mine?"

It's not often I am speechless, especially not with Cillian. But I never imagined the emotions clogging my throat would hit me in this moment.

He asked my father. Cillian asked the great Donovan O'Neil if he could have his daughter. And he said yes.

But even more than that, my sister approved. Not that I'm surprised. She's been telling me that Cillian and I were fated since the day we met. I've never believed in fate though.

Until now.

My hands trace Cillian's long torso, all the way up to his neck, and then I bring his lips down to mine. As soon as they touch, it's as if something inside of me ignites. My ears ring from the intensity, but my body arches into him, begging for more.

He gives it to me, and just as my lips part, his tongue sweeps in. It's messy and frantic, and it proves just how much we needed this.

"Yes," I breathe when he breaks our kiss to look down at me. "I'm yours."

The rain outside has stopped, but the tension in this shell of a castle only builds with every second. "I will love you the way you deserve to be loved for as long as you'll let me."

My lips lift in a smile. "I have loved you since we were eleven years old and you rescued my sister."

He leans down so our noses touch, his dark eyes staring into my soul. "As I have loved you from the moment you pulled me from the fire."

We stay there together, arms wrapped around each other until the very last minute.

"We need to go get ready," I whisper, hating to break the moment but knowing we have somewhere we need to be.

"I'll meet you there." He squeezes my hand, and we both dart away from the castle and to our homes to get dressed for the evening, the whole time my lips burn from the ferocity of our kiss. I can't help but smile as I walk into the house and head to my room.

However, when my father stops me, some of the joy seeps out of me.

"Nessa."

I turn towards him, sitting at the breakfast table that looks out over the garden. Such a beautiful background surrounds this man who I have come to think of as a kin to demons.

"Yes, Father."

I try to keep my attitude out of my voice. He knows this needs to be quick and that I have somewhere to be. He also knows that after last night, when he forced me to shoot a man between the eyes to prove my loyalty to him and the Reapers, I am not in the mood to speak with him. Especially since he still refuses to tell me what the man was guilty of.

"That boy came to me. Asked to be with you. You know what that means?"

Dread and nausea swirl in the pit of my stomach. I swallow hard, pushing past it as I stride toward him with false confidence.

"Why don't you enlighten me?"

His knuckles turn white while holding his beer. It takes everything in me to keep the smirk wanting to break through at bay. My father loved me once. He spoiled me, protected me, and cherished our time together. But when his men began to question if I was going to be strong enough to lead if he kept pampering me, all of it stopped.

I remember the day as if it were yesterday. One minute, I was a daughter he doted on and brought gifts to. The next, I was his next of kin and the future leader of the Irish Reapers. A weapon to utilize, no longer a little girl to love.

He clears his throat, looking out the window instead of at me. "I will speak with his parents next month if all goes well. You will marry him and he will be sworn in. The two of you will begin training to take over."

I ball my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. As much as I wanted Cillian, I never wanted this life for him. I never really wanted it for myself, but I knew I didn't have a choice.

He did.

Clenching my jaw, I turn back to my room without a word. After tearing off my clothes, I slip into the midnight blue dress Cillian chose for me earlier when we were on a video chat. He lives two houses down, but I needed help with my outfit for tonight.

I throw it on, but the joy I was feeling before my father had to throw that bomb at me feels miles away.

I have to think of this as a gift though. I know my father laid out his expectations with Cillian and that he already agreed. Now, I have to live with that. To know I was the one to put him in harm's way. The once innocent boy who saved my sister out of the kindness of his heart will now be my partner in leading the Irish Reapers.

By the time I walk out the front door to find Cillian with a bouquet of pink fuchsias, I've managed to put on my ‘faking it' face.

"What is it, A stór?"

Of course he would notice right away.

I hang my head, ashamed of what my family has brought upon us. I hear his steps, then feel his fingers pinch my chin gently. My lip wobbles and he bends down, pressing a soft kiss to it that has the tears in my eyes threatening to break loose.

"I chose you, Ness. I will always choose you. Trust that I have a plan."

I nod, not necessarily trusting him in that plan yet, but just knowing he has one and that he had thought all of this through brings me some relief.

"That's my girl. Now take these, we're going to be late." He hands me the beautiful flowers and takes my hand, pulling me to his car.

It's a quick drive to the small theater in town, and Cillian finds a way to bring that happiness back. Some days it's like he brings a pure ray of sunshine to my doom and gloom life.

I need him in a selfish way, but I love him in a selfless one. I would let him walk away if that's what he wanted. It would break a part of me I know would never recover, but I would let him because the life of a mobster is not one I would wish on anyone.

But he chose this, he chose me.

We arrive at the large white building and run to the doors with our tickets in hand, knowing we are right on time as we take our seats the moment the lights dim.

The large red curtain opens, and a beautiful ballerina walks out on stage, taking my breath away. My sister and I look nothing alike except in our eyes. We each have this rare hazel-yellow color that almost seems golden at the center.

I watch in awe as she twirls onstage. She is the one thing I did right in this world. I kept her far away from everything my father does and shielded her from him. Mother helped, enrolling her in ballet so she always had a place to escape to when tensions arose in the house with mob business.

I was very clear with my mother about how I was already in line to inherit the ruling title, but I wanted Enya as far from it all as possible. She agreed to help me, and based on the look on her face as she sits next to us, I think they both found something to love.

It was going to get them both out of this mess and away from everything to do with the Reapers.

Cillian looks like a proud brother as he claps for her. He has always been her biggest defender and strongest ally, especially when I wasn't around. My father would drag me off to do things I never wanted to talk about with anyone, except Cillian. He was the one person I could always open up to.

When I would leave, he would watch over Enya. And when I would return, he would sneak into my room and hold me all night while I cried or just sat in silence processing. He never judged me for any of it, and never spoke about it again unless I brought it up.

My heart feels full when we stand to applaud together, but nowhere near as full as it does when Cillian hands Enya the flowers he bought for her. She jumps in his arms and he catches her, spinning her around, her laughter lightening my heart.

"Did you ask her yet?" Enya questions, eyes darting between the both of us.

Cillian takes my hand with a huge smile on his face. "Sure did."

Enya squeals, running to me for a hug and squeezing me so tight I think I might faint. But I couldn't care less. I squeeze her back with everything I have. "I am so happy for you, Ness."

"You were beautiful up there, sis."

She lets me go as she beams with pride. "Thank you."

Mother comes running around the corner, telling Enya someone of importance wants to speak with her.

This is it. They are getting out of here.

A tension I didn't even notice was there seems to unwind within me. I fought so hard to keep her safe, but now that it's time and she is leaving, it feels like I can breathe just a fraction better.

Cillian puts his arm around me and walks me to the car. We get in, but before he can start the engine, I reach my hand out to stop him.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

He looks puzzled before he realizes what I'm asking. His other hand lies on top of our combined ones.

"Am I sure that I want you?"

I shake my head. "Are you sure you can be who my father expects you to be? He wants a trained mobster, a killer. Can you do that? Do you even want to?"

His eyes widen as a hand goes to his chest. I think this is it. This is the moment he realizes how fecked up my life is and he is going to go running, only to never come back.

"You mean, you don't think I can kill someone?" The dramatics he throws into his voice are meant for someone of stage acting.

"I'm serious," I say, pushing his shoulder.

He laughs but turns to me with seriousness in his gaze.

"Am I sure I can slit someone's throat and watch the blood drain from their body? Am I certain that I can put a bullet between the eyes of an innocent just to placate a chess board we are not allowed to see? Do I wish for one second that I chose differently and that I can no longer handle the pressure of the Irish Reapers?"

He stares into my eyes for so long I start to shake in anticipation. I need to know.

"Nope, not sure at all. But I am absolutely, one hundred and fifty percent positive that I am with you until the very feckin' end of it all."

I bite my lip to keep from sobbing. He did think all of this through.

"Guess I should start calling you ‘Killer' then, huh?" I joke, trying to break the tension.

"I'll be your killer, Sweetheart. Just tell me where to point the gun and I'll pull the trigger for you."

My hand wraps behind his neck, fingers playing with the soft red hair that looks so much like mine. Then, I press our lips together. There is nothing I won't do for him and he for me.

Cillian has a plan and I trust him.