10. Bree

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Declan didn't come homelast night, or if he did, I didn't see him, and I feel pretty strange about it. We haven't talked about fidelity, although I've always been of the mind that wedding vows are wedding vows. I don't care that most mobsters have mistresses, that's not what I want for my marriage.

But I don't want this marriage at all, right? Except, while I'm stuck in it, I want him to respect me. To not be with other women. So, I'm not sure how to approach this.

We're getting ready for dinner, and I dress in a pair of high-waisted shorts and a blue blouse, looking casual chic, while Declan wears just a button-up shirt and a pair of tailored slacks.

It's strange how all the Burkes always dress for dinner, how they always have things to say to each other. It's not like that at my house. Hell, I can't even remember the last time my father and I broke bread together. He's always so busy, and I am, too, keeping up the books and making appointments.

We live separate lives, and sometimes I feel more like a secretary or one of his employees than his daughter, but that doesn't mean we don't love each other. Right?

I watch Declan sweep his hair back from his face, slicking it back in the mirror, and I frown slightly.

"Where were you last night?"

He stiffens, which doesn't exactly fill me with confidence, and keeps looking in the mirror.

"Why do you care?"

I scoff. "Because you didn't come home?"

He turns to look at me, half-smiling. "You jealous, princess?"

"Do I have a reason to be jealous?"

Declan grins wider. "No. I just find it cute that you are."

I let out a sigh of relief. "So, this... this whole marriage thing, we're faithful?"

"You fucking better be." His face is serious, his brows drawing together, and his smile fading.

I laugh. "I'm pretty much trapped here. Not even sure where I'd meet someone."

Declan keeps frowning. "Do you want to meet someone?"

I shrug. "I guess not. I've got everything I need for the moment."

"For the moment?"

"I mean, you can't expect this to last forever." I let out a long breath through my nostrils.

Declan keeps frowning, but then Paige knocks softly on the door.

Declan calls for her to come in, and she pops her head in. She's got her hair curled, and it makes her look even younger than she is.

"Marisol says to hurry up, dinner's getting cold," she says brightly, and then starts off down the stairs.

I begin to walk out into the hallway, but Declan catches me by my wrist.

"I'm serious, Bree. You belong to me, now. I won't stray, and neither will you."

I pull out of his grasp. "Not like I have a choice."

I wouldn't stray if I could. This might have been forced on me, but as soon as I said the vows, they became mine. But I'm so confused because I don't want him to stray either. The thought alone makes my chest hurt. But why do I care?

I have no interest in anyone else, and though this just seems like a new set of prison bars, I'm not sure if the circumstances were different if I wouldn't choose him.

I'm angry and frustrated, and I need to get away from Declan for a bit.

I leave our room and walk down the stairs after Paige and into the dining room, sitting down in my usual spot next to Lara, Paige sitting on the other side of her.

Declan comes down, his face blank and serious, and he sits next to me.

The only member of the Burke family who isn't here is Gray.

I guess Patrick sees me looking over at Gray's empty seat because he comments on it.

"Gray's taking care of some business."

I look over at Declan. He's the second-born, so I guess he doesn't have a direct line to everything about the business. I don't, either. My father doesn't share business with me, except for numbers, and only because I have a good head for it.

"I was thinking." Patrick's voice jolts me out of my thoughts.

"Don't do that." Paige giggles. "That's probably what I smell burning."

"Nothing's burning," Marisol chides, eating at the end of the table. She often joins us, too. The Burkes seem to be kind to their staff, which again, is unusual.

My dad treats them as the help and nothing else. He says with as much as he pays them, they deserve it.

I've always been kind to our staff, but it's strange to see the whole family treating them well, almost like they're part of the family.

"Very funny, a'stor," Patrick says with a chuckle. "But I was thinking how Declan and Bree didn't get a real honeymoon."

A honeymoon?

I look down at my food.

Why does this whole family act like I chose this instead of being forced into it? Why would I want to go on a honeymoon?

"Where were you thinking, Da?" Paige is almost jumping up and down on her seat. "I can help Bree pick out some new clothes to take with her."

"How about Nevada?" he suggests. "Declan likes Vegas."

Las Vegas is one of the few places in the country I haven't been. My father always called gambling a waste of time, but I have to admit, I've always wanted to try it.

I look up at Patrick. "I've never been to Las Vegas."

"Then it's perfect!"

"Is it?" I look at him. "We all know how this marriage came to be."

Patrick smiles, reaching over to pat my hand. "I still think you could have some fun in Vegas, especially since you've never been. Just a week." He looks over at Declan. "Besides, I have some work for you to do out there. I need you to relay a few messages to John Renno. I've already booked you two at the Four Seasons. You leave tomorrow afternoon."

"You would have me doing work on my honeymoon?" Declan smiles. "All right, Da. Vegas sounds good."

"I'm paying," Patrick insists.

John Renno.

The name doesn't sound familiar, but I file it away in my brain, hoping that it might come in handy later.

Patrick looks at me. Maybe he is waiting for me to respond.

"Does it really matter if I say yes or no?"

Patrick shrugs. "No."

I sigh, turning to Lara and Paige. "Fine. What do I pack?"

Paige squeals. "Da, can I be excused?"

"Not yet. You've barely taken a bite of the lasagna that Marisol slaved over a hot stove for. Sit down and eat. And stop your bouncing."

Paige pouts but relaxes into her chair, sullenly starting to eat.

Declan and Patrick talk about Vegas, where we'll be staying, when he's supposed to meet Renno. I listen just enough to put some details away with Renno's name.

Maybe, in Las Vegas, there will be an opportunity for me to escape. I may have accepted my lot in life to some degree for now, but I don't accept it forever.

I'm going to make my own choice about who I marry, dammit. This is just a deviation from the plan.

I finish eating, and then Paige asks again if she can be excused, and Patrick nods. Lara stands, too, and we go up the stairs to my bedroom.

Paige bounds ahead of us, giggling.

"Vegas is so fun, Bree, you have to try the slot machines!"

"Declan will love that." Lara laughs, and I smile, unable to help myself.

The girls don't have that much to do with why I'm here, even though they seem to accept it, and so I can let loose a little bit with them.

When we get into the bedroom, Lara grabs her purse and brings out a little fifth of vodka, top shelf.

I stare at her. "Lara?"

She shrugs. "Hey, the guys get to drink after dinner, why not us? Besides, they'll be busy for a couple of hours while we pack."

Paige gasps. "This is why you're my favorite big sister."

"I'm your only big sister."

"Still."

Paige grabs the fifth and takes a swig, passing it to me.

I shrug and drink a little, grimacing, before handing it to Lara.

Paige is already rifling through my closet, throwing all my shorts and dresses onto the bed. "You'll need something formal for a dinner or two, and of course, that killer string bikini you picked out."

"Don't forget regular clothes, Paige, she can't wear a bikini or an evening gown to everything." Lara gets up and puts a large suitcase on the bed, folding my clothes and putting them inside, leaving the evening gowns out to be stored separately.

"You should pick out your own lingerie." Paige wrinkles her nose. "I don't want to think about that."

I chuckle and stand up, digging through my dresser drawers and picking out a few things—including a teddy that I haven't worn yet.

"Keep Declan away from the Blackjack table," Lara warns. "He always loses way too much money."

"Not always," Paige pipes up. "There was that one time he came home with thirty grand."

"He left with fifty grand," Lara points out, and Paige snorts out a laugh.

Fifty thousand dollars?

Just for gambling?

My father would never allow it. But I guess the Burkes have more money than he does. He's always saying they take up too much of the territory.

I look at Lara, then Paige. "He's not very good at Blackjack?"

"Oh, he's extremely good." Paige shakes her head. "But he plays until he loses, that's the problem."

I smile a little, thinking of Declan having the gambling bug. It doesn't seem like him, but then again, I don't know much about him.

Maybe he was right the other night, suggesting that we get to know each other. Maybe this honeymoon will be a way to do that.

"Has Declan always liked gambling?"

Lara shakes her head. "He used to be against it, but back then, Da spent a lot on the races. When Declan discovered cards when he was fifteen, he never looked back."

"Yeah, he was gambling well before Vegas," Paige says.

I try to imagine him at a poker table with smoke in the air and drinks in glasses, looking up over his cards at the crowd. It's kind of hot, actually.

A lot about Declan Burke is kind of hot, and that's the problem.

I've got to keep my head in the game. Keep my eye on the prize. All those sports metaphors, or whatever. What matters is that I just have to focus on slipping away, getting ahold of my father so that he can come and pick me up. There's got to be a way out of this.

It's not like divorce is illegal. I just need to get far enough away from Declan to file the papers.

Maybe gambling is the way to do it.

"Did he get into trouble a lot when he was younger?" I ask.

Paige smiles, "God, all the time. He was a lot more rebellious than Gray." She pauses, looking at Lara. "And you'll never believe who the rebellious one was between us."

"Lara?" I gasp, shocked, and Lara takes another pull from the vodka bottle, winking at me.

I have to admit, the Burke family is fascinating. They have such interesting personalities, and such intriguing pasts.

I want to know more about all of them, not just Declan.

But why? I'm getting too wrapped up in all of this.

Sure, I've got whatever I ask for, except for freedom, and Declan has been kind to me, for the most part, and amazing in bed. Paige and Lara act like my real sisters, and Gray stays pretty far away from me.

Even Patrick treats me like his daughter-in-law.

But I have to remind myself I'm still not here of my own will. As charming as the Burkes may be, I need to get away. I need to be free to make my own choices.

As Lara and Paige pack my things, I start planning a way to escape in Vegas. I won't be so guarded there, and I'll even be outside for a while. This is a chance I can't miss out on.

After an hour, we're all tipsy, but I'm all packed, and Paige hugs me impulsively at the door. I hug her back, and Lara does the same.

"We'll miss you around here." Paige pouts. "But have the best time."

"I will." I wave as they walk away.

Declan walks up to me, putting his arms around my waist after nodding goodbye to his sisters on the way by.

He pushes me inside or room, and all thoughts that aren't him fade away.

I can't think of anything but his mouth on mine, his hands on my hips as he pushes me down onto the bed.

This is bad. This is so bad.

I should push him away. I should tell him that I'm still mad at him, but the way he slides his fingers down my abdomen makes me shiver, and it seems to drain all the annoyance out of my body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Who thought Niall Murphy could make such a beautiful daughter?"

"Don't talk about my father right now," I mutter, and he laughs against my mouth.

"Very well, princess. Let's not talk at all, aye?"

He pulls off my pajama pants, pressing into me since I'm bare beneath, and even though there hasn't been much buildup, I cry out at the pleasure of the stretch rolling through me.

Declan stares down into my eyes as we make love, and I know I should look away, but I can't seem to bring myself to. It's too intimate and my chest feels tight, and when it's over, he rolls over and draws me into his arms.

He's asleep before I know it, breathing evenly against my throat.

This is becoming my new normal, having him in bed with me every night. It feels so comfortable and right that it scares me.

Because in the back of my head, I'm still planning a divorce and an escape.

But his arms feel more like home than any place I've ever been.

I'm so screwed.