12. Ronan

Chapter 12

Ronan

I assign a few trustworthy men on the Rocco case. Their job is scouting and analysis only—don’t engage, don’t get too close, just gather as much information as possible.

Valentina keeps to herself for a few days. When I text, she claims to be busy on the job, but I think she’s actively trying to avoid me. I wonder if it’s the way I keep looking at her, but I can’t help that. The girl’s beautiful, and I haven’t wanted a woman the way I want her in a very long time, only she pisses me off with her stubborn prideful arrogance, and I doubt this attraction brewing between us will go anywhere.

Which is all for the better. Work goes on, life in the family never stops, and I keep my head down until one afternoon I’m sitting out back with Mother, and she casually mentions how nice it was to see a new girl around.

“I mean, she’s Italian, but that’s not so bad.” Mom lifts her tea to her lips, watching me over the rim. “You’ve got all the aunts talking, you know.”

“I can imagine what they’re saying.”

“Most of them think you’re better off marrying one of the nice, pretty Irish girls always hanging around.”

I snort and glance toward the house. “You mean the same girls I grew up with? The ones I call cousin?”

“They’re not your real cousins.” Mom shrugs a little. “Just reporting on what the aunts say.”

“Tell the aunts not to worry. Things with Valentina aren’t like that.”

“No? Why not? Honestly, Ronan, she was pretty, and you’re the head of the family now. Your father and I were married by the time we were your age.”

I grunt in reply and stretch my legs. “Thank you for the reminder, Mother, but I’m not in the market for a wife at the moment.”

“Maybe you should be.” She says this very quietly. “There’s talk. You know about it.”

I glance at her and don’t like where this is going. Mother’s the heart of the family, but she never let herself get too deep into family politics before. Not when Dad was alive, and especially not since his passing. She always says her role is to keep everyone fed and happy, and in that, she does an admirable job, but I always knew she saw much more than she let on.

“What’d you hear?”

“Seamus and some of the other cousins are grumbling. A couple of the uncles too. The aunts tell me these things, you know, just a sort of warning to pass along.” Mom shakes her head and sips her tea again. “I don’t like it, Ronan. Maybe if you really did settle down and get married?—”

“A wife’s not going to solve my problems.” I lean forward and pat Mom’s hand. “Don’t worry. I know about the talk, but it’s just that. Only talk.”

“You’re right.” She makes herself smile but it rings too false. “You’ll be just fine.”

I head into Bloody Strike that night in a foul mood. There are a few decent fights on the card except none of them interest me. I’m thinking about Valentina, her pretty lips, her scowls and her laughter, but also about Seamus and his quiet anger. That boy is going to be a problem. He and the others he’s been chatting with.

It’s late when they finally corner me. I expected it, sooner or later. I head into the bathroom to take a piss and when I come back out, Seamus is lurking behind two other cousins: Cormac, with his scruffy beard and hard eyes, and Gavin, with his lanky frame and wire-thin cheeks. They’re two of the more popular cousins in the bunch.

“Boss, we’ve been talking.” Cormac steps forward. I didn’t expect this from him, but now I can see how it makes sense. “That Italian girl’s been coming around too much. We’re a little bit worried.”

I nod at him and smile my normal smile. Don’t let him know I understand what’s happening here. It’s safe for them to complain about Valentina, and if they didn’t underestimate me all the time, they’d realize I’d see right through it. But I keep that close.

“She’s all right, cousin. Don’t worry about her.”

“What’s she even doing, then?” Gavin’s voice is sharp, like his face. He’s not quite so good at hiding his feelings.

“Consulting,” I tell him. “She’s been bringing in new business. That chop shop hit was all her doing.”

“It was a good job,” Cormac admits, nodding his head. “But she’s a Santoro, boss. I mean, I know their mafia is dead and all, but still. You can’t really trust her, right?”

I look between them and shake my head. “You don’t have to trust her, but you do have to trust me. If the family grows, that’s all we care about, right?”

“Not all we care about,” Gavin says.

But Cormac speaks over him. “I hear you, boss, we all hear you. We’re just concerned, that’s all.”

“And I’m happy you brought your issues to me.” I give him a friendly punch on the arm, and we walk back into the bar as a group. I flag down a waitress and make sure she gets them whatever they want on the house as a little gesture of good faith, but once they’re back at a table watching the fight, Niall sidles up next to me.

We stand together at the bar and don’t talk for a few minutes until he finally breaks the quiet. “Them, huh?” he asks.

I nod my head. “Them.”

“I’m surprised. Cormac has a better head than this.”

“Too good of a head. Maybe he thinks he’d make an improvement over the current boss.” I curse quietly to myself. “Watch them. Get some guys on it. Make sure this talk doesn’t turn into more than that.”

“I’ll handle it.” Niall leans back, not taking his eyes off the fight. “You like the girl, don’t you?”

I glance at him. “You sound like my fucking mother now.”

“Come on, cousin. It’s just us talking now. You like her.”

“She’s a gigantic pain in my ass and she’s an Italian. It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

“She’s beautiful, smart, funny, and looks at you like she wants to swallow your fucking dick.”

I lean toward him. “Careful,” I snarl.

He looks amused. “God, you’re predictable.”

It takes a beat to realize what he did, and I pull back, glaring at him. Fucker just baited me into getting jealous to prove a point, and it absolutely worked.

“She’s a business partner. That’s all.”

“All right, cousin, all right. When it comes time to choose between her and the family, that won’t be hard for you at all, right?”

I don’t answer. Niall heads off to place some bets, leaving me alone. But his question plays through my head.

If there’s a choice, it’s always the family first. Always, no matter what.

Except the thought of turning my back on Valentina feels wrong.

It’s the way she looked at my house surrounded by my family as I walked her to the door after our meeting, like for the first time since I met her, she was happy.

I’m a monster and a killer. I hide behind jokes and smiles. I know what I am, and I do it for my family, for the ones that I love.

But how far can I go? How many lives will I ruin?

I don’t know if Valentina is as temporary as she wants to pretend.