I sigh, there’s no way out of this. I open my mouth and decide to take a chance on a man that’s made me feel things I shouldn’t feel. If he betrays me, I’ll kill him. I’m not the twelve year old girl who watched as her ma slit her throat, I’m stronger than that.
Seven
Dante
Her eyes close as I wrap my hand around her arm, careful not to hurt her. I'm still pissed she got shot yesterday, although, the way she's acting, it's like an everyday occurrence for her. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, they're void. Completely dead. I'm wondering what the fuck I've gotten myself into.
"I'm Makenna, that's the truth. I'm a Gallagher, albeit, a bit more than you were bargaining for. My da owns the Irish in New York, you already know that. But what you don't know is that he still answers to the Boss. Kind of like your da answering to the Capo dei Capi."
I get it, there's a Boss, over the Boss' it's the way it goes. It keeps the balance in the Mafia and also to try and keep the families at peace.
"Well my granda is the Boss, the real Boss. And he owns the Irish in America, all of them, along with Ireland, the UK, and Spain. My granda is the shit." She smiles and I can see the real love she has for him. "He's older than dirt but he's with the times. He makes decisions that he thinks work for the family. Some of those decisions have turned into secrets, and I'm privy to more than a few. Whereas, my da and brother's aren't."
I narrow my eyes, "Why would he tell you, but not your dad?" I have this sickening feeling that I've been played.
She shrugs and pulls out of my arms. "When I was twelve, I was hurt..."
I open my mouth to demand she tell me who the hell hurt her when she raises her hand quieting me down. I snap my jaw shut, grinding my teeth as I do so.
"I'll tell you that Dante, I will. But not today. You don't get all of my secrets today. I'll tell you most of them. But there are somethings I can't. Not yet. Not until..." She drifts off and I know that she meant she won't tell me until she knows if she'll be able to trust me or not.
"My throat got slit and Da lost his mind. He sent me away to live with Killian." She shakes her head with a smile. "Killian is gruff, he's not got kids and he doesn't have a wife, he lives for his cause and won't let anything get in the way."
"What cause is that?"
She frowns at me, there's a weird look in her eyes. "Dante, I thought you said you did your research?"
"I did," I say through gritted teeth. I don't think I've clenched my jaw as much as I have done in the past few minutes.
"Then you'd know that Killian is the leader of the American faction of the Real Irish Republican Army."
I blink, "Say what now?"
She bites her lip and my cock springs to life, "He's the leader of the Real IRA here in the US." She acts as though it's not a big deal.
"Your uncle is a fucking terrorist."
Her eyes flash with anger and annoyance. "Oh, listen here, you arsehole. He's not a terrorist. You don't see me classing you as one and you've probably killed as many people as he has. We don't get to judge people. We don't get to act superior to those that are in a similar line of work. We are all guilty of killing people."
"We?" I echo.
She nods. "Yes, we, Dante. Let me fucking finish the damn story," she snaps and I smirk, I definitely need her to get angry more often. The flash of those pretty green eyes, along with the way she purses her lips makes me hard. I wave my hand for her to continue. Heaven forbid I stop her.
"Thanks," she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Da wanted me to be safe." She scoffs. "So he sent me away with Killian."
Christ, he sent her to live with that murdering asshole?
I don't know the man, I've heard the tales of what the IRA do and how they bomb innocent people and harm those that get in their way. Yes, the Mafia kills people, but we draw the line at innocent women and children.
"What Da didn't know was Killian thought it would be best to train me. So that's what he did. He taught me how to fight, how to shoot, and most of all, he taught me how to survive. To ensure that no one would ever be able to hurt me again."
Fuck, okay, maybe he's not a raging, murdering asshole.
"When he thought I was ready, he took me to Ireland where I spent most of my time with my granda. Did you know that I have another brother?" She laughs at my shocked expression. Fuck, how did we not know that she's got another sibling? "When Da was seventeen he met this woman, well, she was who he truly loved. She ended up getting pregnant and was sent away. Back in those days an unwed pregnant woman was a huge no-no. Granda wouldn't let Da marry her especially when Da was promised to Ma. So the woman had the baby and Da and Ma moved here and got on with their lives. Ma wouldn't let my brother, Denis, come stay with us. He was cut out of our lives and I don't think my other brothers know about him."
I reach up and push a stray strand of hair behind her ear, needing to touch her.
"So I spent the majority of my time with them. I'm a lot younger than Denis. He's got kids that are older than me and some that are younger. His wife is a bitch and I hate her, but I do love my nieces and nephews. So I stayed put. Granda had plans for Denis and I. We're his grandchildren, and with our family when you're in, you're in. So Denis runs Ireland, his son Danny runs the UK, and his other son Malcolm runs Spain."
"Your dad only runs New York. Who runs the rest?"
She looks at me and I know in that instant what her answer is. "I do..."
"Christ," I curse, what the fuck?
"Well, we do now." She drops that bomb with a little laugh.
"What?" I can't take my eyes off her, she's smiling, huge.
"Dante, I run the entire east coast other than New York. You are my husband, did you really think I'd not tell you who I really am and have you sit on the side lines? My men know that we're getting married and they also know that together we'll rule. Unless you have a problem with that?" There's a tone I don't miss, she's daring me to argue with her.
"You're fucking kidding, right?"
She sighs, "About what? Tell me what you think I'm joking about. Please, I really want to know."
"You think you can drop a bomb like that and everything is going to be okay?"
She moves so she's sitting on the bed. "Dante, grow the hell up and welcome to the twenty-first century. I am a woman, one that is more than capable of looking after herself, along with running the entire country if I wish. So you have a choice, be an arsehole, or be the Boss.”
I curse her under my breath. I'm not fucking stupid. She'll fucking kill me, or I'll kill her. Damn, why the hell does the thought of her trying to kill me turn me on? Now I understand a hell of a lot more. Why she's been kept under wraps and it had nothing to do with her father. We're all her grandfather's puppets right now. He's the one that orchestrated this marriage, but what I need to know is why.
"Okay, so talk to me. What exactly do you do?"