“He is protective, too,” I continue, brow knitted in thought. “Of me and our son. He loves the people in his life fiercely and is loyal to those who are loyal to him. He is a good man.”
I blink as if coming out of a trance and smile at Niamh. She is no longer looking at me, however. She is looking over my shoulder. I follow her gaze and see Viktor smiling at me. He was apparently eavesdropping on our conversation.
“What about you, Viktor?” Niamh asks. “Why did you marry Molly?”
“My wife, the romantic,” Seamus says, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
Viktor smiles, lifts his chin in thought, and then smiles down at me. “Molly is strong and resilient. She overcomes whatever obstacle is placed in front of her and never views herself as a victim. She is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, but also one of the gentlest. Her heart is kind and big, and in the end, I just knew I had to find my way into that heart. I knew I had to make her my wife.”
Viktor’s eyes are honest as he studies my face. Then, he blinks and turns back to the table. Seamus and Niamh are both looking at him with a newfound appreciation.
I find I’m seeing him in a new light, as well.
“Molly is a great designer.” Viktor says the words casually while he stabs a piece of tortellini on his plate.
Viktor rented out the restaurant and then catered in some of the best Italian food in the city. I wouldn’t have thought something like that was possible, but apparently, money can do anything. The waitstaff at the restaurant doesn’t seem to mind, anyway.
“I don’t have any formal education,” I say, ignoring the rush of heat in my face.
“Talent needs no formal training.” Viktor smiles at me and then takes a bite, his knee nudging mine under the table.
Niamh is sitting taller, her eyes on me. “Do you think you could help me? I want an entire redesign of our library. It’s so dark. It’s like a cave.”
“If I remember right, that’s what you said you wanted, dear,” Seamus says, a knowing smile on his face. “I remember you saying it would be nice to escape from the world.”
“I did say that, but that was before I realized reading by artificial light would strain my eyes and make me sleepy.” She rolls her eyes at me in a commiserating way, but her lips smirk up in a small smile.
Niamh and Seamus clearly have a loving relationship. They tease one another and push each other, but there is genuine fondness between them.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, crime bosses can have loving relationships with devoted partners. They aren’t all like Fedor.
Before Fedor discovered Viktor’s lie—that he hadn’t killed me like he said and was instead letting me live in his house—Viktor was gentle and kind and loving. Maybe things could be that way again.
Though, I don’t see how that would really matter. Viktor told me I could leave. He told me I could take Theo and the baby and get away from this life, and after all the violence I’ve seen, I’d be stupid to stay. It’s a dangerous life. I have to go.
“Do you think you could help?” Niamh presses, laying a hand on my elbow. “I just want to get it right.”
“But don’t let that scare you,” Seamus says. “She has redone it three times in the last two years. So, if you take the job and she does hate it, she won’t tell you. She’ll just redo it again.”
Niamh glares at him and then pats my hand. “I doubt I’ll hate it.”
“You might,” I laugh. “I’ve only done a nursery before. And it was for my son.”
Niamh claps her hands in front of her and grins at me. “It’s decided. I’m hiring you. I’ll have a contract drawn up. Then, when you become famous, I’ll be able to claim I was your first official job. I love being on the cutting edge.”
“This was your plan all along,” Seamus says to Viktor, raising his glass for a toast. “You know I can’t deny my Niamh anything. If she likes your Molly, I have no choice but to work with you.”
“Everyone knows it’s the wives who really make the alliances,” Niamh whispers to me. “The men only think they are in charge.”
I laugh into my hand, and Seamus nudges his wife’s shoulder. “We can hear you, darling. Speak more quietly so we can maintain our illusion of power.”
The night is going so much better than I ever would have imagined. I’m comfortable and genuinely having a good time. The other women in the Kornilov Bratva seemed catty and only wanted to gossip. Half an hour with Niamh, and I already feel like she could be my friend. Perhaps there is truth to her statement. Because I will do everything in my power to ensure Viktor never betrays Seamus’ trust. I would hate not being able to talk with Niamh.
Everyone is still chuckling when suddenly, Viktor leaps out of his seat.
His thighs hit the underside of the table, knocking everything sideways. Niamh’s wineglass tips and spills red across the white tablecloth, and Seamus grabs her arm to steady her.
I yelp, but Viktor doesn’t stop. He knocks his chair back and starts moving around the table towards Seamus’ side.
For a second, I wonder if he wasn’t offended by the idea that he isn’t the one in control. I’ve never seen him lose his temper so recklessly before, though. Especially when we are here for the purpose of making nice with the Irish. But the way he is charging around the table towards Seamus makes my heart rate spike. What is going to happen? We are surrounded by the Irish. Viktor and I came alone as a sign of good faith. Surely, he wouldn’t risk our lives because of a joking comment.
Seamus lifts his hands in defense and leans back in his chair just as Viktor grabs the serving tray from the waiter standing near our table, sends the dishes crashing to the floor, and then swings the tray, hitting the waiter square in the face.
“Viktor!” I stand up, hand inadvertently falling to my stomach. My instincts tell me to run, to get out of here and find out what is happening later.
But my heart is worried about Viktor. What is he doing?
The entire room goes quiet for a moment, though it feels like hours. Everyone is waiting with bated breath. The Irish have stood up all around the room, the men ready to act, the women ready to hide. Everyone is on high alert.
Niamh is the first to move. She looks from me to Viktor and then lays a hand on Seamus’ shoulder.
“Viktor, what—” Seamus starts to say.
Before he can finish, the waiter reaches for his hip, and Viktor drives the heel of his foot into the man’s chest. He flies back, hitting the table next to ours. The occupants scatter as their drinks spill onto their plates and dribble onto the floor.
Just as the waiter hits the ground, Viktor presses a foot to the man’s chest, pinning him down, and then kneels and grabs for the waist of his pants. The waiter is frantic, his eyes huge and panicked, and he doesn’t look older than twenty. He barely has any facial hair, and his arms are long and scrawny. This isn’t a fair fight.
“Viktor,” I say, taking a step forward.
Niamh grabs my elbow, and I still. I’m not sure what is going on, but I trust her already. I stay where I am, watching as Viktor pulls a gun from the man’s hip.
He holds it in the air and then gestures for some of the Irish to come forward. “Would someone help me restrain this piece of shit?”