Filthy Rich (The Five Points' Mob Collection, #2)

by Serena Akeroyd

I wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. Eoghan was. This was supposed to be the first time he met his future bride, a year or so after the contracts had been signed, but I was here instead because he’d taken a job, at half price, just to get out of the country, just to avoid his future.

I hated church. And that wasn’t something I said lightly. I hated it with a passion,

I knew a black eye when I saw it. I knew a busted jaw too. My own popped out to the side as I processed the beating she’d taken, and I stared at her wedding dress, taking in all the covering, from the wrist-length sleeves to the way that not an ounce of her chest was revealed to me. Sure, they might have been going for the demure look, but I’d seen nuns show more skin.

As he got on with the ceremony, I tilted my head to the side. “I will make them pay for beating you.” She stiffened. “I-I…they didn’t.” “Bullshit.” Another flinch. “Don’t lie to me, Inessa,” I warned, and as Doyle droned on, I whispered, “They did a good job, but not good enough. You’ll dance in their blood if you want.” She didn’t reply, and while she was tense from the unusual hold I had her in, she relaxed somewhat at that.

Undoubtedly, Aidan O’Donnelly Sr. thought he’d won some kind of boon by having the wedding ceremony in a Catholic church, and by being able to hold a traditional Catholic wedding when, really, it was a sign of my father washing his hands of me.

There’d be none of the traditions my sister would get at her wedding. No special ceremonies like the crowns brides and grooms were given on the day, the earrings a bride received during the ceremony—Eoghan’s family had given me a set that matched my ring as part of a bridal trousseau. There’d be none of the games that were played between a couple who was in love for the entertainment of their family.

“You’re very handsome,” I whispered, my voice husky. He arched a brow. “Thank you.” His voice was toneless, but his eyes gleamed with humor.

“Eoghan, that’s enough, don’t you think?” I twisted to look at her over my shoulder, scowling at her calmness. “He hurt you.” “And you’ve hurt him.” Her smile was soft. “Thank you.” She meant that. Those two words…they were genuine.

“And are you going to tell him anything?” “My loyalty comes with a price,” I informed him. “How high a price?” I saw distaste flutter into his eyes, and his mouth curved into a quick, derogatory flash that told me what he thought of that answer. Simply, I told him, “You already paid it.” He tensed, then his gaze drifted from my eyes and over my shoulder to where our families were sitting

“Your price is that low, little bird?” he rasped, and maybe I was crazy, but I could hear the lilt of Ireland in the words. “I did that for pleasure.” “You did that for me,” I countered. I knew I was his property, but he could easily have let it slide. Hell, most men wouldn’t have even noticed beneath the heavy makeup I was wearing. But Eoghan did.

For all the sins we’d committed, they were nothing to Aidan O’Donnelly Sr.’s. That was why he was obsessed with church and confession. He figured that was the only way he and Ma would be together in the afterlife. Crazy, yup. But I’d already called him a lunatic for a reason…

“What happened?” “He beat Inessa.” Conor whistled. “Your hotspot.” “Yeah,” I rumbled. “Anyway, can I leave this in your hands?” “Of course, deartháir,” he said softly, evidently sensing my irritation had surged again, trying to appease me.

I could even, God help me, imagine her curled up on one side and me on the other as we watched another movie or something. The very idea had me pulling a face, which made me realize she was here. Watching me. “You don’t like it.” The flat statement had me cutting her a look.

This whole trying to cook stuff was charming, especially as she always got one aspect wrong, and she’d look up at me with those fucking eyes of hers, all round and wide, hope filling them as she tried to please me, then when I barely refrained from gagging—and

“You expect too much of yourself.” His face turned into my hair. “It’s the only way to get anything done.” “What made you think of that?” “The numbers. So many men surging out, so much blood spilled.” Even as I felt for him, I knew this wasn’t Eoghan. This was a part of him, sure, but fuck. This was Aidan Sr.’s fault.