"For the woman whose Dad can buy her anything she wants, who has her own fortune to buy her own jewelry, why not get something that we can load with our own memories."
Eyes sparkling, she murmured, "I love it." Her nose crinkled as she told me in an assured tone, "You won’t like my gift."
"No? You sure? I mean, all I want for Christmas is for you to do as you’re fucking told—"
She snorted. "Not going to happen."
I mean, I already knew that. I had a lifetime ahead of me, a lifetime’s worth of her pain-in-the-ass self driving me crazy, but Christ, I needed that.
Even through the grimmest of gray skies, with thunder in the distance, and rain falling, a sliver of sunlight could peek through.
That was my Savannah.
Anyway, I already knew she’d disobeyed me. Having seen what Brennan had to collect from Conor’s apartment, it didn’t take a genius to work out what she’d bought me as a gift.
Amused by her honesty, however, I picked up the smaller of the two boxes. When I opened it, I found a handle that I knew would screw onto a cane. L-shaped, if the tongue of the L was pointing down, it was adorned by a skull with a crown on his head. The crown was tipped with two fleur-de-lys and two crosses, each one decorated with emeralds.
"For the future King of the Five Points," she teased, pecking my cheek with a kiss. "You know you like me disobedient anyway."
I did. But not where her safety was concerned. That was something she’d learn with time—I just hoped it wasn’t a lesson that’d resonate too late. If I had my way, she’d learn it ASAP, because I never wanted her to be broken. Not like Ma.
This life wasn’t a game. More exposure to it would teach her that. Right?
I had to fucking pray that was so.
Pressing a kiss to her lips, I muttered, "Thank you."
"How much do you hate it?"
"On what scale?"
"As good as my blowjob was last night to how it first felt when you got your dick inside me."
I cackled. "So, I’ve got a selection point between awesome and epic?"
"Exactly."
I shook my head. "I love it. Thank you."
She grinned at me. "I have to watch out for you. Not sure the Five Points is ready for a Queen to rule without its King."
I wasn’t sure if truer words had ever been spoken.
As the rest of the O’Donnellys stopped teasing Finn and Aoife, then opened their gifts, revealing anything from expensive jewelry to a weird clay pot that had Aela sobbing with thanks and kissing Declan with a little too much gusto for Shay’s liking, I realized this was the new shape of our family.
Inessa had only joined the ranks in May, followed by Aela and Shay, and Camille and Victoria shortly after. With Savannah here now, the family had never been bigger, but truthfully, I looked forward to it growing.
The future was here, in this room, and with some of the shadows of the past behind us, it had never looked brighter.
As I promised Savannah, we retreated to bed after we ate pancakes that Ma and Aoife whipped up together. None of us were up before one, which was when all the women congregated in the kitchen once more.
There was a rule of thumb in the household that no business was discussed on Christmas Day, but Da broke it an hour before dinner by calling all his boys into his office.
Of course, the term ‘all his boys’ had a different connotation now.
Finn had always been a trusted member of the family. Da had given him access to the firm’s money at a young age once he’d proved himself in the Five Points, much as I’d done—I guessed I knew why he’d believed in him so much now. I couldn’t resent that, was, if anything, glad for Finn.
You blamed the father for his sins, not the son.
At least, in my opinion.
Da was sitting behind his desk when we all walked in, where he explained what was going to happen over the next few days. This wasn’t a discussion; this was a prepared speech with a detailed plan of action for tomorrow for which he fully expected our support. Seeing as there wasn’t much we had to do, none of us said anything, just nodded when he was done.
Shortly after, we were called in to dinner, where we ate like kings thanks to the women slaving away in the kitchen.
Two fifteen-pound turkeys, perfectly roasted, were on platters at either end of the table with bowls of stuffing and three different kinds of veggies.
There were two types of casseroles, green bean and sweet potato, two industrial-sized vats of mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce, and after, there was the traditional Christmas pudding served with frozen custard for Conor and ice cream for everyone else.
There was also a Yule log, but unlike every other year, it wasn’t cake covered in icing, but an ice cream cake coated in frosting.
As we ate, it made me wonder about what Savannah had said—did we appreciate these quiet times more because of the low times we had? Was that the case?
After the siege, and then what Ma, Da, Finn and I had gone through, with the fear and the adrenaline, I had to wonder if it really was true because none of us bickered.
Not even Conor.
We ate every bite, reveling in the feast, enjoying each other and the day itself for what it was.
It was, in a word, unusual.
The strange calm continued with a basketball game that the guys watched in the family room, and Savannah joined us too.
At first, I thought it was cute she wanted to stick with me, but then she and Da started bonding over the fucking Knicks, and I had to question how this woman was so perfect for the O’Donnellys. She slotted right in, and I was beyond grateful for the many quirks that had her fitting into the family with such ease.
By the time the game was over, we all started preparing for bed, but Savannah tugged on my hand and asked, "Aidan? I want to FaceTime my folks. Do you want to meet them?"
I arched a brow. "I thought you’d talked to them already."
"I did. But I told them about you, and they want to meet you."
My nose crinkled. "Over FaceTime?"
"Well, they’re curious."
"Do they know who I am?"
"Relatively speaking. They know you’re an O’Donnelly, but they don’t know you’re in the Irish Mob.
“I mean, it wasn’t the first thing I told them,” she scoffed. “Plus, they’re not native New Yorkers. It’s not like that side of you is known outside of certain circles in Hell’s Kitchen."
I wanted to meet them, but not over a fucking screen. Scraping a hand over my jaw, I murmured, "What time is it there?"
"Three in the afternoon. It’s six hours behind us." She pouted. "You really don’t want to meet them?"
"Well, I do, but I wanted to ask your dad for your hand in marriage."
She grinned at me. "How traditional are you?"
"What about my family makes that come as a surprise?" I asked wryly, amused that she was amused.
"True" Her lips twisted. "But I don’t need you to ask for my hand." She shoved it at me, and the engagement ring charm danced from the bracelet dangling off the wrist that wasn’t wearing a support bandage. "See, you can have it now."
I squinted at her. "You know that’s not how that works, right?"