Chapter 42 RóISE

I don't bother to knock on Uncle Brogan's office door this time. I'm a little surprised when the knob turns easily in my hand.

That should mean he's not in a meeting at least. Well, not a meeting in person anyway. He's on the phone when I come in.

Looking up Uncle Brogan glares when he sees me. The look I give him back is not friendly.

I'm so done with being treated like what I want doesn't matter. He made a promise to me and he's going to keep it.

I am not quitting school to marry Miceli. I don't care if I use my degree, or not. I am getting it. This is my last connection with my parents, with the life they wanted for me.

They put the money in that account for my education, ensuring I got full, legal access when I turned eighteen. Uncle Brogan is not a trustee on the account. No one related to the mob is.

Along with the money, mom and dad left a letter telling me to get the education I wanted and to pursue my dreams. Whatever they were. A letter they wrote together before my mom died when I was ten.

Marrying a mafia underboss isn't my dream, but getting my degree is.

That marriage might put my other dreams out of reach, but not this one. Not unless I let it. And I won't.

Uncle Brogan puts his phone down on his desk. "In busy Róise. If you need to talk to me, I'll see you at dinner."

"This won't take long."

He makes an impatient gesture with his hand. "Go on, then. "

"I'm not getting married in September."

"Not this again. The wedding is going to happen. You gave your word, Róise."

"To marry the underboss, but I didn't agree to quit college. In fact, I made finishing my degree a contingency of my agreement." I swallow, my throat tight.

"Things change. We all have to make concessions."

I don't roll my eyes. This is too serious. I don't ask what concessions he's making either. I'm not going to let him sidetrack me.

"If you don't keep your promise on this one, I have no reason to believe you'll live up to your word on the other two and therefore no reason to go through with the marriage at all."

After a mostly sleepless night figuring out what to say that might influence my uncle, I practiced what to say and how to say it in my room.

Pusheen was not impressed with my rehearsal and abandoned me over an hour ago to prowl through the house. She's probably visiting Fitz.

He's the only male who Pusheen deigns to acknowledge.

Uncle Brogan surges to his feet. "Now, listen here, young lady, I know what's best for you and for this family."

"Wrong. You know what's best for the mob and for your powerbase. If you want me to marry Miceli, then I finish school."

"You can do your senior year online like the don's wife."

Kara is getting an online degree too. But my cousin signed up for her online courses at NYU without telling either her husband or her father.

"I can't take an improv class online."

"Then take a different class."

Like it's that easy. "No. I need that class to graduate."

"I'm sure we can get the administration to find a different class for you."

"I'm not a child looking for a crayon you can fob off with another color. I'm finishing school." I'm not backing down on this.

Because what I said earlier is true. If I can't trust Uncle Brogan to keep his word on this, I can't trust him, or Miceli, about the other things.

Two years of birth control.

Fiona not being pushed into marriage for the sake of the mob.

If I can't be certain he'll keep his word about Fiona, what is the point of going through with the marriage at all? Much less having a child that will tie me to a mafia underboss for the rest of my life.

Ignore that little voice saying Miceli might be the point all on his own. I am.

"I have no problem announcing the engagement," I offer. "But there's no reason the marriage has to happen so soon."

Uncle Brogan narrows his eyes thoughtfully. "I would have thought the engagement would suffice as well, but Severu De Luca is adamant."

That's what Miceli said. And I don't care.

"Then you be adamant right back." I can't believe I'm saying this to my uncle. "What is more important to you? Keeping the mafia don happy or keeping your word as a mob boss?"

That night in Portland was supposed to be my last good thing for me, but it turned out to be a prelude to my future. I'm not giving up the last thing that is mine.

The one thing I'm sure my parents would be proud of me for doing.