Binding Rose: A Dark Mafia Romance(8)

If my life and that of my sister is to pay the price for peace, then I pity the fool who ever tries to disrupt it.

His death will be a thing of nightmares.

I’ll make sure of it.





Chapter 1





Tiernan



Present Day



I lean against the doorframe, my arms crossed against my chest as I stare at my baby sister packing up her luggage, filling to the very brim the carry-on and two large suitcases that are sprawled on top of her bed. Silently, I watch her store away not only her clothes, but also her most prized possessions. An ill feeling inside me whispers that those little knick-knacks won’t be enough to bring Iris any type of joy, much less soothe the ache of being ripped away from everything she’s ever known and into the belly of the beast.

Iris continues to sway her hips left to right to the beat of the song playing through her earphones, completely oblivious to my presence and my troubled thoughts. The whole scenario looks so horribly mundane to me. As if she’s just packing her stuff to go on one of her far away exotic vacations, with the promise she will return home once she’s had her fill of sangria and sandy beaches.

But nothing could be further from that delusion.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at her, but today will be the beginning of a life my sister never asked for. A life where she will have to venture out all on her own without the safety net of our family name, since by the end of the week, she will no longer be a Kelly—but a Volkov.

There is a pang in my chest at that realization. I have no other choice but to bury my reluctance at that ungodly thought deep down into the confines of my soul, so I don’t do the unfathomable and kidnap my sister, right here and now, and take her somewhere safe where Bratva hands can’t touch her. Not that I haven’t thought about doing such a thing innumerous times before. In fact, for the past ten years, I have thought of little else. Just the thought that Iris will have to fend off the three Volkov brothers every night from here on out brings bile to my throat.

“Are you going to just stand there all day, dheartháir? Or are you going to help a girl out and shut this bag for me?” Iris exclaims, not lifting her gaze off the stubborn bag that refuses to be zipped up.

“I didn’t think you saw me standing here since you were too busy dancing up a storm.” I smile tauntingly, walking over to her to lend a helping hand.

“I see everything, deartháir mór,” she retorts smugly. “Besides, you make it too easy for me. I could feel your scowl from across any room.”

“You make me sound like an old worried fart.”

“If the shoe fits,” she goads, playfully nudging her shoulder with mine.

“That’s funny. You’re funny,” I reply sarcastically, pulling on one of her wild, red curls.

“Well, you better get your fill now, big brother. In a few hours, you won’t have to suffer me making fun of you anymore.”

Fuck.

Why did she have to say that?

I turn to my side and place my hands on her shoulders, halting her from continuing on with her task just so I can take her in one last time. Iris’ emerald green eyes sparkle with mischief and so much life. It cripples my heart, wondering how long that gleam will last in the Volkov’s household.

“Tiernan, I’ve got a plane to catch. I don’t have time to stand here for you just to gawk at me,” she jokes.

“Let’s be serious for a moment. Conas atá tú? Really? The truth now, Iris. How are you feeling with all of this?”

She sighs before shrugging my hands away and going back to stuffing her suitcases.

“We’ve had this talk a gazillion times, big brother. I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry about me.”

“Teach me how not to worry about my kid sister, and I won’t. You forget I used to change your diapers when you were yay high, deirfiúr bheag.”

“Ew, gross.”

She laughs, hoping her playful demeanor will lighten the mood.

But it doesn’t.

All it does is remind me that the sound of her laughter will be another thing that I will miss.

“I’m serious, Iris. I will always worry. It’s my job to.”

“Not anymore. That will be Alexi’s job now.”

The mention of her soon-to-be husband irks me to no end. Instead of carving his face like I did to his neck all those years ago, I should have killed the bastard. That way Iris wouldn’t have to be subjected to becoming his fucking wife.

“Besides, Shay doesn’t worry, and he’s my brother, too,” she adds, unaware of how I just murdered her fiancé ten different ways in my mind.

“It’s different. You and Shay are too close in age for him to feel the way I do.”

“You mean like an obsessive, over-controlling Athair? Sorry to burst your bubble, deartháir mór, but I already have a father, and he’s not one bit worried about me, just as long as this treaty goes to plan.”

“That’s not fair, Iris. Athair worries about you plenty.”

“Yeah, I know.” She lets out a long exhale, bowing her head so that her crimson curls can cover her face from my sight.

I pull her to face me again, the sliver of sadness so plainly swimming in her clear green meadows that it chisels away at me.