Silent Vows: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (The Byrne Brothers Book 1)
Silent Vows: Chapter 31

“Things took longer than I expected. I hope you were able to come up with something for lunch.” Conner joined me in the living room, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes guarded.

“Not a problem at all. Are you done for the day?”

“No. I need to get back. I just thought I should check in.” His jaw clenched, gaze cutting harshly to the side as if something had irritated him.

“Well, since you’re here, I need to run an errand.”

He nodded as if to himself. “You might as well come with me. We can run your errand on our way to the club.”

I tensed, not expecting him to take me himself. Shit. “Okay. Let me grab my purse.” I hurried to the bedroom, cursing my luck. I preferred he not know what I was up to, but now it looked like I didn’t have a choice.

“I just need to run into a drug store,” I explained once we were in his car. “I know parking’s a pain, so you don’t need to bother coming in.” I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

My new husband didn’t look at me or respond. Instead, he whipped into a driveway and stopped the car, pinning me in place with his stare. “We live in a world where everyone will be out for our blood. The only chance we have at staying whole is to trust one another. You’re my wife, like it or not. Now, are you going to tell me what this is about?”

I wasn’t sure why, but tears burned the back of my eyes. “I’m worried about my brother. I thought I’d get a prepaid phone to give him, like you did for me. That way, I could talk to him … without my father knowing.”

Tension seemed to suck the air from the small space.

“Someone needs to kill that bastard,” Conner spat. He had no idea how right he was, but he and his family couldn’t possibly be the ones to do it. Such an outright act of war would end in disaster.

“I just need to be able to talk to Sante, that’s all. Then I’m sure everything will be fine.”

I didn’t think he believed me any more than I believed myself, but he let the subject drop. After replaceing a parking spot, he took me to a drug store and showed me where the disposable phones were sold. He even had me pay for it with my new credit card to make sure the thing worked. A part of me kept waiting for the trap. It all seemed too easy. Too convenient and empowering. How would he control me if he gave me everything I needed, including my freedom to move about?

Well, that’s some fucked-up thinking. Dad’s done a real number on you.

I had to fight back a sigh as Conner drove us to his club. I didn’t want to think my husband was capable of manipulating me like my father had, but it was hard to squash the suspicions. I felt compelled to be on my guard, just in case. It was mind-boggling how quickly life could be snuffed out or stolen.

The club entrance was quiet like it’d been on my first visit. I wondered what it was like at night—did people line up outside, or was it more like a speakeasy with secret knocks and lookouts? Maybe I’d just seen too many movies.

Shae was absent this time around, but the best man at our wedding was lounging on Conner’s sofa when we reached his office.

“If you’re that tired, man, just go home,” Conner grumbled, alerting the man to our presence. I’d met him briefly before, but we hadn’t had a chance to talk.

“Oh shit. Sorry. Late night.” The attractive guy sat up, a sheepish smile showing off deep dimples on both cheeks. He looked right about Conner’s age with warm brown eyes that reminded me of a golden retriever and curly dark hair he kept long and unruly on top. He was strong—thick cords of lean muscle layered on one another so that his traps made his shoulders slope, and the sleeves of his T-shirt strained over his curving biceps. With the boyish nature of his charm, he was even cuter in casual clothes than the suit he’d been wearing at the wedding.

“Noemi, you remember Bishop,” Conner said distractedly, walking to his desk.

That’s right. I extended my hand, which he gladly accepted. “Bishop … is that your last name?”

“Nah, real name’s Ewan Bohanan.”

“Why Bishop?” I asked, curious.

He smirked, looking at Conner as if asking permission.

My husband rolls his eyes.

“Got the name in high school…” He blasted a radiant grin. “Because all the girls ended up on their knees when I was around.”

I had to bite my lips to keep from laughing hysterically.

Conner perched on his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nearly got you killed on more than one occasion.”

“How was I to know if one had a boyfriend?” He spread his arms wide, pleading his innocence. “And it never got quite that bad—not with you at my back.”

“Yeah, you dragged me into more shit. It was a good thing I lived in the ring.”

“The ring?” I asked, cutting in.

“Boxing ring,” Conner clarified.

“Did you box professionally?”

“Did he box?” Bishop gaped. “My man could have been a champ—just look at him!”

I smirked, trying not to be too obvious in my perusal. Conner did have an impressive build. “Guess that explains why your knuckles are all scarred.”

Conner smirked. “That’s one of the reasons.”

I shook my head, not wanting to know what else would lead to that kind of damage. It was enlightening seeing the two men interact. Bishop brought out a different side of Conner that I hadn’t seen before. I imagined they’d been hell on wheels growing up.

“Alright, that’s enough bullshitting.” Conner stood, shoving some papers in a drawer, then looked at me. “There’s always a few tables open around the clock upstairs. You want to go up and check it out?”

“Really?” I’d figured he needed to work, and I’d be stuck entertaining myself. A tour was an unexpected treat.

“Come on. Bishop, go make yourself useful somewhere.” Conner led me to the elevator and up to the second floor, which housed what looked like a small hotel ballroom decked out for a Vegas-themed event. The walls were dotted with crystal sconces, and matching chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Textured satin fabric decorated the walls in a rich burgundy, the same color used throughout the space combined with gold and mahogany wood grains. A dozen card tables sat in the middle of the open room. Only two seemed to be open at the moment, and I wondered what the atmosphere would be like at night during peak hours.

“You’ll have to come sometime at night to see the full effect,” Conner mused, looking over his kingdom as if viewing it from my perspective.

“I was just thinking the same. It’s beautiful, but I bet it comes alive at night.”

He rumbled a sound of agreement.

“How exactly is it that you can run a place like this? Isn’t it illegal?” I recalled Shae telling me everything on his floor was above board, which had me curious.

Conner’s head inclined almost proudly. “The Bastion club is a private charitable organization. Essentially, it entails some very creative accounting.”

“I see.”

“You know how to play blackjack?” he glanced over at me.

“Oh yeah. I’ve played a bunch with my brother—not for money, although sometimes we’d play for leftover Halloween candy.”

Stifling a smile, he shook his head. “Let’s see what you’ve got then.”

He motioned to one of the tables. I took the only open chair, smiling at the attractive redhead in the dealer’s seat, though she hardly gave me a glance because she was too preoccupied with making eyes at my husband.

“Mr. Reid,” she said in a sultry tone. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

The nerve! It’s like I’m not even sitting here.

Conner placed a hand on my shoulder. “Wanted to show my new wife around. Noemi, this is Lena. Lena, Noemi.”

The woman smiled and dealt my cards, a dagger sheathed in her eyes. “Best of luck.”

Was this the attention he got at work every day? If so, it was no wonder he was dedicated to the job. I knew that women often threw themselves at powerful men, but it was another thing to see it in action. With my husband.

I swallowed back the acrid taste of jealousy and looked at my hand. Two eights. A decent enough hand to split. I managed to get face cards dealt onto each eight, giving me two winning hands when the dealer held at seventeen. I grinned, beaming up at Conner, who was able to join me at the table when the man sitting next to me grumbled and withdrew from the game.

Lena dealt again, including Conner this time. We played several hands, and I’d begun to genuinely enjoy myself despite the overt attention Lena showered on my husband. My tolerance hit its limit when her hand trailed seductively over his for the second time as she collected his cards.

“You know what? I think I’d like to eat,” I blurted, turning to Conner. “Can we grab dinner?”

His narrowed blue gaze cut to me. “Yeah, of course.” He dropped his cards on the table. I walked to the elevator, not taking time for goodbyes.