Liam closely watches my expression. He leaves me alone with my thoughts for a moment longer, then goes on.
“At first, I only intended to kill McGrath and his crew and find out who’d been responsible for that book store bomb. But I realized quickly that there were far more evil actors in the criminal underworld, and their operations weren’t limited to Ireland. The farther up the ranks of the mafia I climbed, the more information I was privy to, the clearer the picture became.
“I grew obsessed with finding out who was at the top. Who pulled all the strings? I wanted to cut off the head of the snake.”
I fall onto my back, staring up at the ceiling and struggling to take it all in. I say breathlessly, “Declan. He knows, doesn’t he?”
“He was the one who recruited me into the DMI. And he’s had my back all these years.”
That cagey SOB. Several things he said and did click into place, and I cringe. I think I owe him an apology for that slap.
But he was a jerk and kept blowing cigarette smoke into my face, so maybe not.
“Where was Killian in all this?”
“In the military, he demonstrated certain aptitudes that interested the government. He went to work for MI6 doing counter-terrorism and counter-espionage. That didn’t last long. Too corporate for him. He hates taking directions from anyone. So he went freelance.
“I can’t tell you what his career path looked like from there, because I don’t know. But he had all these crazy skills and contacts in every foreign government you can name, and we agreed to work together toward a common goal.”
“Cutting off the head of the snake.”
“Exactly. From inside and out.”
“And how’s that going?”
His answer is quiet. “The problem with the kind of snake we’re chasing is that every time you cut off one head, another one grows in its place.”
We fall silent, listening to the sound of the rain.
The rooster crows again, then he’s silent, too.
“You once told me you were in enforcement. I thought that sounded so strange at the time, and even more so after finding out you were in the mafia, but now…now it makes sense.”
Liam rolls to his side, lifts up to an elbow, and gazes down at me.
Trying to process everything, I turn my head and look at him. I have so many questions I still need to ask.
“So your FBI arrest…that was fake? You were working with them?”
He nods. “I gave them a few valuable pieces of information in exchange. They were very grateful.”
My brows draw together. “But why fake your arrest in the first place?”
He smooths my forehead wrinkles with his finger, gently stroking the furrows away.
“Because there are only two ways out of the mob. Death or prison. I decided being killed by one of my enemies would be inconvenient…”
His voice drops. “Considering I’m in love.”
I drag in a hitching breath. My eyes fill with water. My throat constricts, and my voice comes out small and strangled. “So what happens now? You supposedly rot inside a prison cell forever but in reality you have to live the rest of your life in hiding?”
Liam leans down and gives me a soft, sweet kiss on the lips. “Now it’s Killian’s turn to be the mafia pope.”
When my mouth drops open in shock, Liam chuckles.
“He’ll be ‘released’ from custody on a technicality and will take over where I left off. He can’t wait. If you think I’m bossy, it’s only because you don’t know him well enough yet.”
When I continue to stare at him with my mouth open, he chuckles again.
“The whole switching thing was his idea, actually. My original plan was to get knocked off in prison—allegedly, of course, just for the news—and retire from the revenge business so we could safely be together. But apparently Killian has always been keen on the idea of fronting an international criminal empire. I had no idea he found my work so glamorous, but here we are.”
I spend a while blinking rapidly and trying to rearrange my brain cells.
“So…your brother will still be a freelance spy…but while taking over your job…which is pretending to be a mafia kingpin…while actually working for a foreign government…or two.”
“Aye.”
“And you’ll retire from the revenge business.”
“Aye.”
“And we’ll live happily-ever-after.”
“Aye.”
“And I’ll have Killian to thank for that.”
He’s about to agree with me, but catches himself. “What? No! This was my idea! I’m the one who wanted out!”
I pretend to be doubtful, pursing my lips and staring back at him with a lifted brow.
He’s outraged. “Did you or did you not hear me say that being killed by an enemy would be inconvenient because I’m in love?”
I can’t keep up the ruse. My face breaks into a smile. I wind my arms around Liam’s broad shoulders and whisper, “Yes, I heard you. I just wanted to hear it again.”
Understanding dawns over his face. “Why, you little…”
He doesn’t bother finishing the sentence. He simply leans down and kisses me.
It’s several more hours before we come up for air again.
Epilogue
Tru
Four weeks later
“You’re gonna do great.”
“I’m not. I’m totally going to fail this effing test. Yesterday was a nightmare. Today will be worse. I’m going to fail.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
“You will if you keep thinking like that. Have some self-confidence. You’ve studied your arse off. You’re ready.”
“Remind me again why I’m bothering with this ridiculous two-day-long, twelve-hour test when my law degree has already been accredited by the University of Argentina, I’ve registered with the Colegio de Abogados, and I don’t need anything else to practice law in Buenos Aires? Including a passing grade on the Massachusetts bar exam?”
Over the phone line, Liam’s tone is firm. “Because it’s a goal you’ve worked toward for years, you don’t want to give up on that goal simply because you’re living in another country now, and—most importantly—you promised your mother you would.”
“Oh. That.”
“Aye, that. I don’t want to start off my relationship with her on the wrong foot.”
Standing outside the meeting room door at the Hynes Convention Center in Boston where I’m scheduled to begin day two of the bar exam—like, right now—I lean against the wall and smile, picturing Liam meeting my parents. We’re going to Texas in a few months for a visit.
For Thanksgiving, of all things.
It’s a situation I once thought impossible, but I’m living in alternate reality land now. All kinds of impossible things have come to pass.
“Oh, crap, they’re closing the doors. I gotta go in.”
“Good luck. Call me as soon as it’s over.”
“You know I will, bossy boss man.”
Liam growls, “You better, or I’ll take you over my knee when you get home.”