This Life 1

by Cara Dee

  Frank’s assistant jumped up from her chair farther away and served us coffee and opened a box of pastries.

  I had my eyes set on a jelly donut, which I wouldn’t touch until the victory was mine. Nothing said loser like jelly on my shirt in the middle of a contract negotiation.

  “No reason to beat around the bush,” Meredith started. “Several clauses in both contracts are severely angled in the favor of Patrick and Finnegan. So let’s take them one by one.”

  Frank waved a hand. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Oh, she was ready. With stacks of papers lined up in front of her, Meredith began ticking them off. First, it was Sarah and Patrick’s contract, where most of their issues appeared to be about money.

  My brother had pulled his head out of his ass and demanded the clause to be amended with a spending limit. Sarah didn’t like that. In the end, she conceded to a monthly cap of four grand, but Patrick had to agree to a renegotiation in eighteen months.

  I didn’t call that a win. He’d wanted the limit to be half that, with room for more if he cleared whatever purchase in question.

  According to Meredith, that was preposterous and would make Sarah feel “inferior.”

  “Section four,” she went on. “In both contracts, these look the same, and it’s the topic of children. In paragraph two, it clearly states that children are not obligatory, yet two paragraphs down, you request to agree not to use birth control—in the event that parties start intimate relations. Pardon my language, but what gives, guys?”

  I leaned into Frank and spoke for only him to hear. “I need this one. No birth control or contraception for Emilia.”

  When I sat back again, she was narrowing her eyes at me.

  I winked.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Well, you know what they say about abstinence, Ms. Campbell,” Frank said flatly. “If your clients don’t wish to get pregnant, they can refrain from having sex.”

  “Oh, I will,” Sarah replied with a sugary smile.

  “Finnegan, you can’t be serious,” Emilia blurted out. “You’re honestly ready to become a parent as long as you can have it your way?”

  This didn’t ruffle me for shit, and I inclined my head. “Children are a blessing. I hope to have many with you.”

  I wasn’t lying either. Everything had changed for me. The fact that it would tie her to me for decades to come was a big bonus.

  Emilia looked away, her discomfort written all over, and whispered to Meredith.

  Meredith nodded. “My client wishes to proceed to the duration of the marriage. It’s unacceptable to claim they’re only obligated to stay married for three years, then do everything to ensure the union results in children. Furthermore, Emilia and Sarah would have to give up custody if they want to walk free, a notion that’s nothing short of barbaric. So we’re here to renegotiate those terms, and we propose twelve months instead of the original three years.”

  “Outta the goddamn question.” I got heated quickly, sickened by the thought of only having her for a year. “What the fuck are you doing, Emilia? We’re good together—”

  “This has nothing to do with feelings,” Emilia answered abruptly. “You gotta understand that I have to protect myself, Finnegan. No matter how good we are together, neither of us can predict the future, and given what you do…I need something better if you ever want me to trust you. This is my life we’re talking about.”

  I gnashed my teeth and refrained from commenting as Frank cautioned me to stay quiet. But motherfucker, she would get an earful when we got home. She needed to get it through her skull that we were perfect for each other.

  “Gentlemen?” Meredith waited for our verdict.

  Frank cleared his throat. “Apologies, I was waiting for a serious counterproposal. What you’re asking is laughable.”

  “I want ten years,” I heard myself saying, never looking away from Emilia. “Minimum.”

  “Now, that’s laughable,” Meredith drawled.

  “I can agree to five,” Emilia said, “on the condition that I go on birth control, and we share custody if we have kids and end up divorced.”

  I shook my head, refusing to go there. “We’re not getting divorced, princess.” I couldn’t bear the thought. Shit, it legit hurt to think about her walking away from me. “That goes against everything I believe in.”

  “You have to be reasonable!” she exclaimed. “Think about me, Finnegan. I would sign away my whole life—”

  “So would I!” I yelled.

  “And one of us lies for a fucking living!” she yelled back.

  “Not this again,” I groaned. I was gonna implode with anger if she didn’t let that go soon.

  “While we’re on the subject, Frank,” Meredith said conversationally, “are Finnegan and Patrick tapping my clients’ phones? You understand that it’s in our best interest to figure out how trustworthy the men they’re marrying are. You see, we found some suspicious activity on Finnegan’s laptop, and it appears he’s synced—”

  “Fuck my life.” My elbows landed on the table, and I dropped my forehead into my palms. “She went through my laptop—fucking great.”

  “What’s yours is mine and all that,” Emilia said lightly.

  I chuckled darkly and lifted my gaze. “You don’t wanna go down this road with me, Emilia.”

  “I think this calls for a break,” Frank said. The look he gave me told me to calm the fuck down. “We’ll reconvene in twenty minutes.”

  My glare followed Emilia as she walked out with the other two, and right as she slipped out the glass doors, I saw her take a big breath and put a hand on her chest.

  That little action robbed me of most of my anger.

  She was putting on a façade.

  “I remember now why you two are my most difficult clients.” Frank rose to his feet and lit up a cigar. Then he told his assistant to take a hike. He dealt with Patrick first. “You’re not saying much.”

  Patrick offered a dry look. “My opinion on whether the fiancée I’m never gonna fuck can or can’t have birth control isn’t very strong.”

  I snorted, tired, and stood up too.

  “She’s told me it’s okay if I get a girlfriend on the side,” he finished.

  That didn’t sit well with me.

  “And you didn’t mention this to me, why?” Frank got pissy. “If you and Sarah decide on having separate lives outside of your marriage, it needs to go into the contract. Lest you want her to shake you down when you go out and fuck everything that moves.”

  “He’s not going to do that,” I said firmly.

  “Why? She’s cool with it,” Patrick stated.

  “Because I’m done with that in our family!” I shouted. “Get your lazy ass up and make the best of your marriage instead, Pat! I’m sick and fucking tired of cleaning up messes because some’a youse act like whiny cunts. If you can’t even make your wife happy, how the fuck are you gonna keep a work crew satisfied? Huh? Christ! What happened to loyalty in our syndicate? What happened to being faithful?” I drew in a breath and tried to calm down, and it wasn’t goddamn easy. “You’re my brother, and I love you, but I won’t have you dragging me down. If you wanna get to the top, start working. My patience has run out.”

  “Good advice,” Frank cut in, and I dismissed Patrick’s glare. “On that note, you need to give Emilia more, Finn. You may have this grand vision of what your future with Miss Porter might look like, but as long as she doesn’t see it, pace yourself. Don’t get angry because she’s not on the same page. Get to the bottom of why instead and fix it. Right now, digging your heels into the sand will get you nowhere.”

  Fuck him for using one of my favorite sayings against me.

  Resting my ass on the edge of the table, I crossed my feet at the ankles and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  He was right, though I didn’t know where to surrender control. I couldn’t agree to fewer years with her.

  “Emilia’s offer wasn’t bad, bro,
” Patrick said quietly. “Five years, no tricking her into getting knocked up, and shared custody if you split.”

  Tricking her…

  My head snapped up.

  Birth control failed all the time.

  How hard could it be to make sure she was pregnant before those five years were up? Kids changed things. I couldn’t see Emilia walking away freely if a child was involved.

  “Pop’s gotta have someone in his pocket who can get me placebos,” I said.

  “Yeah, probably.” Pat nodded.

  “For the love of all things holy.” Frank threw a skyward look and took a puff from his cigar. “You boys realize that while you don’t show an ounce of remorse for deceiving your girls, your mother is going to tell them everything she knows.”

  I did realize that, but how much could Ma really know?

  More than we’d expected, that was for sure. This was different, though. So she’d given them the name of her lawyer and possibly warned them we could be sneaks. It was fucking endearing if anything.

  “They didn’t get everything right, for the record,” I pointed out. “I never tapped Emilia’s phone. We’re on the same plan. Her phone’s in my name, so I synced the devices. People do that every day.”

  “That’s great, Finn,” Frank responded, nodding. “Want me to make a case for you based on semantics? You think that will earn you the girl’s trust?”

  “No one appreciates a smartass,” I snapped.

  Frank ignored me, continuing by saying he’d have his team amend the contracts so they could be signed before the day was over. And I had to agree to Emilia’s terms. Five years instead of three, birth control, and shared custody.

  He was going to make changes in Patrick’s contract too, though, at my insistence, there would be no clause for agreed-upon extramarital activities. Over my dead body.

  “This day did not go as planned.” I slumped back down in my chair and guzzled my coffee, wishing it were a bit more Irish. “She wasn’t supposed to find out about the syncing. I only did it to get to know her better. I mean, come on, she hated me!”

  Frank hummed and took his seat again. “I wonder why.”

  Cheers.

  “This’ll blow over, bro,” Patrick assured me. “Count your blessings instead. Whole other shitshow if she found out about Kellan.”

  I grunted and poured some cream into my coffee. “I gotta tell her at some point. And again, I did it to even the score. She needed an incentive to go out with me, and I was at a disadvantage. Having him as the agent pushed her toward me.”

  “I have a feeling it’s a good thing I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Frank said.

  Our twenty minutes were up, yet the women took another seven before returning to the boardroom. Whatever façade Emilia had struggled to keep intact had been mended. She looked twice as determined and fierce if that was possible. Her eyes were sparking with attitude and fire.

  I could play nice, I was pretty sure.

  “Did you have a pleasant break, ladies?” Frank asked.

  “Not the word I’d use, but sure.” Meredith stacked a few files together, then clasped her hands together on the table. “Can we reach an agreement?”

  “Absolutely.” Frank inclined his head. “Finnegan agrees to five years—”

  “Three,” Emilia interrupted.

  I frowned. “Princess, you just—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” she responded calmly.

  Meredith faced me with a flat expression. “Three years, free access to birth control of Emilia’s choosing, and shared custody in the highly unlikely event that your marriage results in children.” She paused. “Additionally, the contract in its entirety will be nullified should any party do something perfidious such as tamper with any type of contraception.”

  I froze, my coffee cup in midair. This wasn’t happening. I could hear a pin drop—possibly. My pulse was quickly going through the roof, so maybe that rushing sound would drown out the pin. Or a brick. Fuck me. Slowly setting down the cup, I scooted out my chair and took a deep breath. Then I checked under the table and felt my whole world collapse around me.

  “Holy shit,” Patrick whispered.

  He’d seen the bug, no doubt. Placed directly underneath Meredith’s spot.

  Those conniving little…bitches.

  I started laughing. It was either that, or I’d shoot Meredith where she sat, and I would lose Emilia forever. So I gave up. A bizarre surge of emotions turned me into a madman, and I leaned forward and rested my cheek on the table.

  Frank stared at me over the rim of his glasses. “Do you declare defeat?”

  I nodded against the cool tabletop.

  I got played today. I got knocked down. I’d underestimated Emilia, something I’d sworn never to do. And now she knew…fuck, too much. She knew about Kellan.

  There would be no jelly donut for me today.

  Legalities meant fuck-all when dealing with us, and they’d taken a page from our book.

  “They played dirty,” I muttered.

  “Do you think this is funny, Finnegan?” Emilia asked.

  No. It wasn’t funny at all. I dragged myself up and managed to smirk, even as my eyes burned and my vision blurred. “Do I look amused?”

  I was another level of crazy. It was a hard blow, and she’d aimed straight at my heart. Unfortunately, I had it coming, and now I knew what I was up against. The love of my fucking life.

  I blinked back the emotions fast and got my act together. On the inside, I’d be a mess for a while. I had to rethink everything. By some stroke of luck, she was still agreeing to three years, which bought me time. My priorities changed before my very eyes, threatening my goals, threatening what I’d worked for.

  I guess that was the moment Emilia became everything.

  As if on cue, guilt seeped into my veins, slithering through me like liquid lead.

  Chapter 21

  Emilia Porter

  While Finnegan stopped in the lobby to get our mail, I continued upstairs with only one plan. Pack a bag and get away for a couple days. It was Grace’s advice, and I was going to take it.

  Shame I couldn’t escape the clusterfuck that was my brain.

  One second, I was shaking with anger. Another, I wanted to bawl my eyes out. I managed to jump between apathy, hurt, understanding, something…thrilling I couldn’t identify, and embarrassment too.

  I’d never been so humiliated in my life.

  I felt so fucking stupid every time I thought of the times I’d met up with Agent Caldwell.

  I cringed and stalked up the stairs to the bedroom I’d come to call ours. Was any of this mine? Or was I just a pawn in Finnegan’s games?

  Locating a small roll-aboard suitcase at the back of the closet, I started shoving clothes inside it.

  Finnegan walked through the door when I was moving on to some stuff in the bathroom.

  He wisely stayed downstairs. He was waiting for me to explode.

  “Your car’s here,” he said.

  “All right.” I wasn’t going to use that today, though. I’d already snatched up the spare key to his Aston, and I deserved a treat.

  I’d asked Sarah to tag along, but she wanted to stay behind, and I wasn’t in the mood to convince her. Frankly, there was a lot I wasn’t in the mood for anymore where she was concerned.

  No, what I needed was Grace. I’d head out to the compound and spend some time with the one O’Shea who hadn’t fucked me over. If she’d lied to me—and it wouldn’t surprise me if she had—she’d made up for it by genuinely being there for me. Unlike her youngest son, she wasn’t sugarcoating shit. She didn’t share details about anything that could get anyone into trouble with the law, but she straight-up told me what I needed to know.

  “Can we talk about this?” Finnegan asked tiredly. “I know I messed up.”

  “What’s there to talk about?” I zipped up the luggage and set it by the stairs. “You read all my messages behind my back, you lied, you manipulat
ed me, you hired—” I stiffened and screwed my eyes shut.

  “The Bureau would be eternally grateful. We need good citizens like you who are willing to do what it takes.”

  I covered my mouth with my hands as a sob got stuck in my throat.

  “We’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this. The O’Sheas are notorious for planting bugs and recruiting people to be their eyes and ears.”

  It’d all been an act. Had they laughed behind my back at how gullible I was?

  I refused to let Finnegan see me break down, so I took a long breath and bottled up my emotions. I would save it for the drive.

  “Emilia, please tell me what to do. There’s gotta be a way to fix it.” He came up the stairs and stopped short halfway up when he saw the luggage. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His hands balled into fists.

  “Away. I need to think.”

  “No, you need to tell me how I can fix this,” he gritted. “Running away won’t solve any problems.”

  “Finnegan, I’m two seconds away from pushing you down the stairs.” Rage bubbled right below the surface, and I was ready to unleash it if he didn’t watch it. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to fix. You’ll get your three years. We sure as shit won’t have any children, and then we get divorced. End of discussion.”

  He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze, though not before I got a glimpse of something. I’d seen it for a fraction of a second in that boardroom too. He’d looked…crestfallen. Stricken. His eyes had glistened, the one thing he couldn’t cover with his grins. In that quick moment, he’d been ripped open and exposed.

  The kick in the head? It’d hurt to see him that way. A shot at him was a shot at me, and it told me how screwed I was.

  “Where’re you going?” He cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over his mouth.

  “Your parents’. Meredith will send me the contract, and I’ll have it delivered to Frank’s office tomorrow.”

  He nodded with a dip of his chin and let me pass him on the stairs—except, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist.