Binding Rose: A Dark Mafia Romance(27)

He called me a liar.

We haven’t even had a full conversation with one another, and already I’ve displeased him.

Not that the incident has dulled his sudden celebratory mood any. In the limo he acted as if our wedding was a mournful occasion, yet the minute we stepped into the reception hall, his disposition did a complete one-eighty. I’ve sat on the sidelines and watched Tiernan dance with every pretty girl here and drink from every cup handed to him. Since he’s made no attempt to include me in the festivities, I’m not na?ve enough to think his gregarious nature has anything to do with being thrilled at our union. It almost looks like this wedding reception is more of an excuse to have one last hurrah with his men, than it is to commemorate the vows we took earlier today.

Not wanting to stare at my husband having a merry time of it, I take in his guests to see if there are any sympathetic faces to my plight. Anyone that can become a friend in this land filled with foes.

My gaze first lands on the less than obvious choice, my in-laws—Niall and Saoirse Kelly.

“Welcome to the family, Rosa,” was the only statement that Saoirse had said to me when Alejandro introduced us earlier. She said it in a way that didn’t hold any animosity in it, but not much affection in it either. My father-in-law, on the other hand, stood rigidly still beside her, making no attempts to look at me whatsoever.

Of course, I didn’t expect them to welcome me into the fold with open arms, so I wasn’t offended by their lukewarm greeting. But as the day unfolded into night, I got a feeling that me marrying their first-born son wasn’t exactly on the top of the list of concerns for them, either.

On one of my many trips to the lady’s room to get some much-needed solitude, my suspicions were confirmed when I overheard some women gossip about how the Kelly’s youngest daughter, Iris, was probably marrying one of the Volkov brothers in Vegas as they spoke.

A shudder went down my spine at the frightening thought.

Up until that point, I never truly considered that marrying into the Kelly family was preferable in comparison to some other families—the Bratva being one of them. The Irish mob might be the unruly savages that my brother claimed them to be, but rumor has it that even Satan himself is afraid of the Volkovs, and has made sure that they remain unscathed just so he could buy himself some time before they enter his infernal domain and wreak havoc in hell.

It’s no wonder that my in-laws can’t crack a smile tonight. Unlike my father, it’s obviously apparent their thoughts are solely on the daughter they can no longer protect.

Unable to see so much restrained suffering, my gaze continues to scan the ample room, finding another person who looks just as unhappy to be here as I am.

Colin Kelly.

Alejandro was adamant that I stay away from him, and if he hadn’t forewarned me the man was as dangerous as they come, then one quick glance his way would have done the trick. Surprisingly enough, the reason behind me wanting to maintain a wide berth from the man, has nothing to do with the burn marks that crest the left side of his face. Those are simply scars of war, and Colin cannot be held accountable for the evil of other men. It was the emptiness in his green eyes that told me I need to be careful whenever I find myself in his presence in the future. Maybe it’s a childish notion, but I’ve always believed that the eyes were the window to a person’s soul. And in Colin’s case, his told me that he doesn’t have one.

Soulless.

Lifeless.

Unmerciful.

For a man’s soul to be that damaged, he must have endured too many horrors to count, ultimately making him unleash nightmares of his own. I wouldn’t be surprised if loud, tormented screams and tear-stricken pleas of mercy were like lullabies to him. The marks that have been branded on his skin are just a cautionary tale of what he must have done in order to ensure his survival. Men like him might not have been born evil, but they sure have been molded into becoming it.

Afraid that somehow Colin can sense the horrid images of him I’m conjuring in my mind, I shift my attention away and continue on with my perusal until someone catches me in the act. My throat tightens when Shay Kelly’s curious eyes meet mine from across the room.

Unlike Colin, Shay doesn’t seem to hold one facial flaw or have any scars that are visible to the naked eye. I’ve never considered myself to be a shallow person nor based my regard for a person purely on looks, but even I have to admit that Shay’s handsome features are too pronounced to ignore.

With shoulder-length light brown hair and a trimmed beard, paired with stunning clear blue eyes, he reminds me of Leonardo da Vinci’s infamous painting of The Last Supper, whose replica adorns one of my own childhood home’s walls. While his brother has an uncanny resemblance to the god of the underworld, Shay is his complete opposite, looking like the Irish version of Jesus Christ himself. But unlike the son of God, Shay wields his handsome looks like a sword, sure to capture the hearts of women all along the Massachusetts coast. While I’ve watched Tiernan limit himself only to dancing with the prettiest female guests here tonight, I’ve seen Shay do much more than just dance. He’s kissed at least five different women in a span of an hour from what I could tell. Lord knows what else he’s done where no one could see.

When my manwhore of a brother-in-law begins to walk in my direction, I curse at myself for not having been more discreet with my perusal. The crowd parts for him like the red sea, and all too soon he reaches my table. With a smug smile on his lips, Shay pulls out an empty chair beside me, twirls it around, and straddles it. He crosses his arms over the top rail of the chair, placing his chin on his wrist while staring at my side profile with no inhibitions whatsoever. When I refuse to look his way, he snickers in amusement.