by A. Zavarelli
“You do? Really?”
“Aye,” he answers gruffly. “You drew it for me. So I like it. I fancy all of your drawings. But this one is mine.”
A blush creeps over my cheeks and I wring my hands together. I sometimes forget that Ronan was watching me when I didn’t know it. That he’s probably seen a lot of things I wouldn’t normally have shown anyone. Like my drawings. My journal. My underwear.
“I’ll get it done tomorrow,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Tomorrow?” I question. “But you’ll need to make an appointment. Find the right artist…”
“The syndicate has a lad who does them,” he says. “I’ll have him come tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
“It’s settled then.” He reaches for my hand and pulls me into his lap.
He kisses my face and nuzzles into my neck. His words are quiet and soft and betraying a rare emotion when he whispers into my ear.
“Thank you, love.”
48
SASHA
“I’M as big as a frigging house,” Mack whines as she stares at herself in the mirror. “Are you sure you want me to walk with you out there? Nobody will be looking at you when you have me thundering down the aisle beside you.”
I laugh at her, and it turns out to be just what I need at the moment. I’m a nervous wreck.
“Mack, you look beautiful,” I assure her. “And I’ve got nobody else to walk out there with me. I really need you.”
“Oh fine.” She pouts. “You’re gonna play that card, huh?”
“I am.”
She turns to me and starts fussing over my dress. A white floor length, empire waist ensemble with a touch of gold trim. It’s not what I imagined myself getting married in. But when I was looking at dresses, Ronan admitted his favorite color on me was white.
He likes to think of me as pure and good. The light to his darkness. I’m definitely no angel, but he’s not the devil he thinks he is either. So for him, I wear white.
I hadn’t planned on doing anything in the traditional way. I mean, I’m getting married in a strip club. Run by the mafia. There’s pretty much nothing traditional about that. But it turns out, Ronan’s very traditional in some aspects.
He wanted to see me walk down the aisle. He wanted to show the world that I’m his. I couldn’t deny him.
So even though I’m a bit panicky at the prospect of having everyone’s eyes on me, I know it will all go away the moment I see his. Standing there, waiting for me.
The music starts, and I grab Mack’s arms in a vice grip.
“It’s okay, Sash,” she says. “Just breathe.”
I do. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“There’s nobody out there but Ronan, okay. Just focus on him.”
“Okay.” I nod and she guides me out the door.
I’m shaking like a leaf, and my stomach flips when I see the room full of faces. They are all staring at me.
Mack squeezes my hand in hers and gives me a much needed support.
“Look at Ronan,” she whispers.
I do. I find his eyes at the end of the aisle. Soft and brown and focused only on me. He’s anxious too. Impatient. This was all his idea, but now it’s clear he just wants me there next to him. He doesn’t like to have me out of arm’s reach, especially around this many people. It’s just his way of protecting me.
I steel myself with several more deep breaths and take a step. And then another. And my eyes never leave Ronan’s. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Right now, in his suit, he’s even more so. It’s the same suit he always wears. But today it’s different. Today he looks like my husband.
Mack hands me off to Ronan at the end of the aisle, and he takes my hands in his. Almost immediately, my shaking stops, and everything else falls away. It’s only us now, and the sound of Rory’s voice as he performs the ceremony.
I recite the vows that were crafted for members of the syndicate. They are by no means normal. They speak of family, honor, and blood. Loyalty and protecting one another at all costs.
They couldn’t be more perfect if I’d written them myself.
I will always protect Ronan, just as I know he will always protect me.
When Rory moves onto the blood rite, he hands me the ceremonial blade first. Ronan and I both knew we wouldn’t be able to cut each other, which was tradition, so we opted to do it ourselves. The only other option was having Rory perform the ritual, however I had a feeling Ronan might very well murder him if he cut me.
So with Ronan’s eyes on mine, while Rory recites the words that bind our souls together for eternity, I take the blade to my finger and then hand it off to Ronan. He does the same, and then our hands are bound together with a piece of ribbon.
“My anam cara,” we both repeat together.
They are the same words carved into our wedding rings in Ogham script. The words that mean, quite simply, his soul is mated to mine.
The ritual is more powerful than I expected it to be. Raw energy pulses between us, our souls and our love binding us as one. There are tears in my eyes when we exchange the rings. I’ve never felt more emotional in my life. The love that I have for this man overwhelms me. That love is reflected in Ronan’s eyes.
And finally come the words that seal our fates.
My life, my love, my breath.
May we always have each other, in this life and the next.
Rory hands us a cup which we both drink from, and then he proclaims the words that make it official.
We are now husband and wife.
Ronan kisses me, in front of everyone, and he doesn’t hold back. When he finally pulls away at Rory’s insistence, I’m laughing and a little off kilter.
We both walk to the alter and perform the last and final step of the ceremony. The lighting of the candle.
And then he promptly bundles me up into his arms and carries me to the back office which he insists is custom as well. I’m pretty sure he’s making that part up, but I go with it, because… Ronan.
Always Ronan.
EPILOGUE
SASHA
I’M STILL HALF ASLEEP when the creaking of the rocking chair down the hall rouses me.
I glance at the clock and realize that I must have slept through her cries. I’m not in the least surprised that Ronan didn’t.
He once told me he worried he wouldn’t do well with her cries. He was right. Because every time he hears them, he’s the first to her side. She’s got him wrapped around her little finger.
I untangle my hair from my face and pad down the hall, peeking in to find Ronan in the rocking chair. Saoirse is bundled in his arms, sucking from the bottle in his hand.
He picked the name. A play on my own. I love it. I love everything about my baby girl. And my husband. And the sight of the two of them together right now, even in my sleep deprived state, still steals my breath away.
He leans down and kisses her forehead with the gentlest of touches, and then his eyes meet mine across the room. Even after all this time, he still makes me feel like I’m on a rollercoaster when he looks at me like that. My whole world is off kilter, and yet it’s never been more perfect. Saoirse starts to fuss, and he sets the bottle aside and rubs her back, soothing her almost immediately.
I’m not going to lie and say that I have the same effect on her. I don’t. But that’s just Ronan. He is the balm to both of our troubles. Our calm in the storm. Whenever she’s upset, all he has to do is hold her, and she’s okay. I know the feeling well.
And Ronan certainly doesn’t mind. He likes that he can calm her. Being a parent has changed him so much. Made him see the emotions he is capable of. He’s the proudest father I’ve ever had the fortune to know. The fact that he’s my husband and the father of my child is proof that lightning really can strike twice. I don’t know how I ever got so lucky.
When Saoirse is asleep, he bundles her into the crib and then comes back to me. His hand grazes over my cheek, strong and wa
rm.
“Ye should be sleeping,” he says. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” I tell him.
He kisses me and leads me back down the hall to our bedroom. We’re both exhausted. But I’ve never been happier when he falls in beside me and then rolls me beneath his solid frame.
He kisses my neck and gropes around under my nightgown as I tug his briefs down and free his cock. We can barely keep our eyes open, but we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other either. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed.
He’s moving inside of me while I clutch at his back and he kisses me all over. It doesn’t last. We never do. But these few brief stolen minutes that we get to connect like this are everything to me.
When we both finish, he stays inside of me for a while until his breathing calms. I stroke his back and he’s nearly asleep when I whisper in his ear.
“I need to get back on the pill,” I tell him. “Before I end up like Mack.”
She’s already pregnant again with her second. A fact that she never lets Lachlan forget.
“What’s wrong with that?” Ronan murmurs sleepily. “We make a good baby.”
“We do,” I agree. “But I want to enjoy this one for a while longer before another comes along.”
Ronan falls onto his side and his fingers stroke over my face. “Okay, love.”
And that’s that. Things are pretty much always this easy with Ronan. He doesn’t argue with me unless it’s about my safety.
We just are. We exist in our own little bubble, with the exception of Lachlan and Mack who we see often.
The syndicate is running smoother than it ever has. Ronan manages the club as efficiently as he does everything. And then he comes home to me. Always.
Whatever fears I had, whatever concerns… they don’t exist anymore. I don’t know if it will always be this way. But what I do know, is that Ronan and I will fight to protect what we have.
And God help anyone who ever tries to take that away.
THE END
GHOST
BOSTON UNDERWORLD #6
BOSTON UNDERWORLD #3
Talia.
I have always been a bird. Caged by one prison or another when the only thing I ever wanted was to fly away.
Sold. Beaten. Starved. Drugged.
Nothing scares me anymore.
Until him.
He makes the numbness go away.
He is hazardous to me. It has nothing to do with his mafia lifestyle, and everything to do with what he offers.
A gilded prison.
A retreat from everything that I once knew. The reality I have no desire to return to.
He thinks he’s caged me, but soon…
I’m going to fly.
Alexei.
I live by a code. The Vory code.
In this mafiya world, there are traditions.
Expectations.
She does not care for these things. She does not care about anything.
She thinks she has me fooled with her haunted eyes.
What she can’t know is that I see her better than most.
She wants to fly.
But I’m going to clip her wings.
And make her my wife.
PLAYLIST
Playlist:
Dark Paradise- Lana Del Rey
Angel of the Morning- Skeeter Davis
Enjoy the Silence- Denmark + Winter
Breathe Me- Sia
Sober- Pink
Dance with the Devil- Breaking Benjamin
Save Me- Shinedown
Hurt- Johnny Cash
Comfortably Numb- Pink Floyd
45- Shinedown
Paint it Black- The Rolling Stones
The Monster- Eminem
Born to Die- Lana Del Rey
The Sound of Silence- Disturbed
Dear Agony- Breaking Benjamin
Even Though Our Love is Doomed- Garbage
My Least Favorite Life- Lera Lynn
Beautiful Pain- Eminem
Lucky Ones- Lana Del Rey
What Lies Beneath- Breaking Benjamin
Unwell- Matchbox Twenty
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
Avtoritet- authority, captain
Boevik- warrior, soldier, strike force
Pakhan- leader, boss
Lyoshenka, Lyoshka, Alyoshka- diminutive forms of the name Alexei
Solnyshko- little sun
Sovietnik- councilor, advisor to the pakhan
Vory v Zakone- thieves in law
PROLOGUE
TALIA
HOPE IS FOR SUCKERS.
That’s what Mack and I always like to say.
So I guess I’m a sucker too.
Because when Dmitri asked me to go to Mexico with him, I couldn’t say no.
There was a part of me that wanted to. The part that keeps my shields up and my armor in place. We’ve only been dating for a month. Not enough time to vacation together.
Not that I would know. I’ve never even been on a vacation.
Mack and I have always done it tough. Growing up in foster care and then on the streets. Scraping by every day. When the majority of your life is consumed by the thought of your next meal or a safe place to sleep, places like Mexico might as well be on another planet.
But things are different now.
I’m twenty-two. And perfectly capable of taking care of myself.
Mack doesn’t agree.
And even though I’m here in paradise with this man who promises the world, I can’t stop thinking about her.
She’s like a sister to me. She’s the only family I’ve got. I hate that we argued before I left. We’re always arguing these days, it seems.
She hates my job. She hates all of my life decisions.
And it hurts. Because I miss her. She should be here with me, in this beautiful place, experiencing it with me. But instead, she’s back in Boston… completely oblivious to where I’m at. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about this vacation. I knew she would argue. I knew she would tell me that I was making another mistake.
She doesn’t like Dmitri, even though she’s never met him. Mack always sees the worst in everybody. It’s her way of protecting herself and me.
But sometimes, like right now, I just want to see the good.
Dmitri has done nothing but treat me well since I met him. And I have this crazy idea in my head that maybe someday Mack will meet him and understand that. That she’ll be able to see what I see when I look at him.
I want to call her right now. I want to tell her all about this place. How beautiful the weather and the drinks and the beach are. These last few days have been the best of my life, and I want to share that with her.
But my phone is up in the hotel room and Dmitri and I are down by the pool. So it will have to wait until tonight.
I’ll get the courage to call her tonight.
“Hey.” Dmitri reaches over and touches my face, turning my attention to him. “Why so sad, kitten?”
“I’m not,” I lie.
He smiles, and I do too.
“Good,” he answers in his Russian accent. “Because tonight, I am taking you somewhere you will never forget.”
My heart rate slows and some of the anxiety in my chest ebbs away. I feel like I could trust Dmitri. And I haven’t felt like that in a long time.
“Tell me, Talia,” he brushes his fingers down my arm and breaks away, watching me carefully. “Have you enjoyed our time together so far?”
“Yes,” I answer.
And that isn’t a lie. I feel like he’s different. Like he can read me better than most. I’ve told him things about my life that I’ve never told anyone. I’ve opened up to him. I’ve given him a piece of myself that nobody else has ever earned.
It isn’t just my body, but a part of my heart too.
“I’ve enjoyed our time together as well,” he says wistfully. “Very much.”
The expression on his face confuses me, but it
vanishes quickly. A moment later, he’s checking his watch and taking me by the hand.
“Come,” he says. “The car is waiting out front.”
I follow him through the resort and into the back of the car. He gives instructions to the driver in his native language, which surprises me a little. I didn’t realize that he’d brought anyone else down here with him. But it is apparent that this man works for Dmitri.
Something nags at the back of my mind. A sinking feeling takes hold of me as we drive, and I can’t be sure what it is.
When I glance at Dmitri across the seat, he is lost in his own thoughts. And distant. He is never distant. It worries me. As does the landscape up ahead. Which is looking less like a tourist area by the moment.
Dmitri seems to sense my panic though as he always does.
“It’s okay,” he assures me.
He reaches out and takes my hand in his, and I try to focus on organizing my thoughts. I’m at war again. In my mind. Looking for demons in everyone the way that I always do. I told myself that I wasn’t going to do this anymore. I told myself that I was going to forget the past.
“You trust me, don’t you?” Dmitri asks.
I look up at him and give him a nervous smile. Half of me is screaming no while the other half nods on autopilot.
“Good,” he says. “Because you know I’d never do anything to hurt you, Talia. I’d never put you in danger. You have nothing to worry about when you are with me.”
I allow his reassurances to calm me as the car pulls to a stop. But one look outside the window, and all of his words mean nothing.
