Binding Rose: A Dark Mafia Romance(19)

“You want me to follow him?” I ask, feeling uneasy that one of our greatest enemies is making a quick getaway.

“The men outside have eyes on him, so no need,” Tiernan retorts, nursing his whiskey, his facial features finally showing signs of his reluctance at being here.

We both stay silent, watching our surroundings, but I can tell that tonight he’s uncharacteristically agitated.

And if I’m honest, so am I.

“Little odd Alejandro didn’t bring his entourage with him,” I state, pointing out what has been plaguing my mind since we picked him and his sister up at the airport.

“He’s testing me,” Tiernan explains evenly.

“By making himself vulnerable?” I counter in confusion.

“That’s the thing. He shouldn’t be vulnerable in Boston. By leaving his goons back in Mexico and coming alone, he’s making a statement. That this town is now as much his as it is mine.”

My hands ball into fists at the remark.

“Don’t let him see you look so angry, Colin. It will only amuse him,” Tiernan adds before taking a sip of his drink. “Besides, he didn’t do anything that I wouldn’t have done if the roles were reversed. This treaty is meant to protect us all, so swallow your pride and let the asshole think whatever he wants. We know better.”

“If you say so, boss.”

“I do.”

I square my shoulders and look straight ahead, trying my best to relax my features so I don’t show how much I hate the fact we have to play host to this asshole. It’s a travesty we have to endure his presence and play nice with his family in the first place.

“You know that if you wanted, you could enjoy yourself tonight. I wouldn’t mind,” Tiernan says, trying to get my mind off the desire to kill the Hernandez prick on the spot.

“I’d rather stand guard if it’s all the same to you, boss.”

“Are you sure? The Pit went all out tonight. Might as well take advantage of it and pick a girl or two to entertain yourself with.”

“Don’t need any entertaining, boss. I’m fine right here.”

He lets out a strained chuckle under his breath.

“Shay is sure of a different mindset. I’d swear he was the one getting married tomorrow. Trying to sow as many oats as he can before the clock runs out on him.”

My eyes land on my younger cousin, and I see him laughing away with some of our soldiers, drinking his fill while two dancers rub themselves up against his sides. Sometimes I envy his carefree nature. When people look at Shay, they don’t see the marks of a killer. The same can’t be said about me, though. One look at me, and everyone knows what kind of evil lies underneath. It’s marked all over my face as a reminder.

“Shay was never one to turn down a party. I’m not as inclined.”

“No. Neither am I, I’m afraid. Those days are over for me.”

My forehead wrinkles at the melancholy in his voice. But then again, I wasn’t the one who just shipped my baby sister on a plane to be married to Bratva pigs, so I sympathize with his turmoil.

“Iris is tougher than she looks. The Russians are no match for her,” I announce, knowing that’s where his mind is tonight.

“I hope you’re right. I’ve got this bad feeling that won’t go away,” he says, rubbing at his chest to drive the point home.

“Maybe what you’re feeling is just wedding jitters.”

He turns to me with his brows arched up high to his forehead.

“Did you just make a joke, Col?” He smiles, amused.

“Humor was never my forte, boss.”

“It sure sounded that way to me just now.” He laughs, his broad frame relaxing a tad, his gaze falling once again downstairs where the action is.

There is a pregnant pause between us until Tiernan decides to break it with his own curiosity.

“Is it true what Shay said earlier today? That my bride is a right little dinger?”

“He shouldn’t say such things to you.” I scowl.

“Please. We both know that Shay could never hold his tongue. Especially when it comes to pretty girls. I just want your impression of her to see if he’s pulling my chain.”

“Shay isn’t lying. The lass is very beautiful.”

“Beautiful, huh? Not exactly a word I’d ever think I’d hear come out of your mouth.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true. But she’ll never fit in with us,” I state poignantly.

“How so?”

“She’s… well, boss, she’s not like the women you usually surround yourself with.”

“You mean she’s not a whore. No surprise there.” He scoffs, taking another pull of his drink.

“No, boss. It’s more than that. She’s…” I struggle to find a word that does justice to the woman I met this morning. “Sophisticated.”

“As opposed to the illiterate brutes we are? Is that what you’re saying?” He levels me with a stare.

“I’ve spoken out of turn.”

“You’ve hardly spoken at all. Right now, all that I know of my bride is my brother’s pornographic remarks of what a knockout she is and you telling me that she’s a stuck-up snob.”

“I didn’t say that,” I quickly rectify. “I don’t think she looks down on us. I just think she has been… sheltered. She looks like someone who has spent most of childhood with her nose inside a book rather than being tainted by her upbringing.”