Bride by Initiation: Secret Society Mafia Marriage Pact (The Underworld Book 1)
Bride by Initiation: Chapter 1

‘Happy birthday, dear Shannon, happy birthday to you!’ everyone in the pub sings and then cheers erupt so loud, I cringe.

My cousin, Shannon, beams, her face glowing from all twenty-eight flickering candles decorating the luxurious chocolate cake.

‘Make a wish,’ Aunt Nora chirps, her excited smile growing as tears well in her eyes.

Uncle Boris tugs Nora closer to him, looking just as proud as his wife.

Shannon blows a long breath of air over the cake, extinguishing the candles.

A deafening round of applause and hollers sound throughout the pub again, and Zara raises onto her tiptoes to lean into my ear and state, ‘Time for another drink.’

The hairs on my neck rise, and a feeling I keep getting in my gut reappears. It happened the moment she walked into the pub wearing a short minidress and stilettos. Her dark hair hangs in long curls, those blue eyes, fringed with long lashes, sparkle, and her plump, red-stained lips keep making my mind buzz with indecent thoughts.

I try to ignore it. Zara is my sister’s best friend, and we’ve known her since childhood. Fiona would never shut up if I made a move on her. It doesn’t matter if I’m 36 and Zara’s 30. The fact we’re adults doesn’t stop my sister from constantly warning us to not cross the line. Plus, Luca, Zara’s father, would kill me if I tried anything with her.

Yet I don’t argue or stop myself from following her to the bar. ‘Another pint and…’ I glance at Zara’s empty martini glass and tease, ‘What fancy drink is it tonight?’

She bats her lashes, her gaze swirling with mischief and something else…something inviting and taboo.

I’m imagining things, I remind myself.

She smirks, eliminating the room in my pants to the point it hurts.

Jesus. I need to get a grip.

It’s Zara.

She chirps, ‘It’s a chartreuse martini, Sean.’

I groan, pretending to be annoyed, stating, ‘I’m not even going to ask what that is, how to spell it, or where you discovered it.’

‘Good. I can’t tell you anyway.’

I arch my eyebrows and lean closer to her. ‘Why is that?’

She studies my face for a moment, pursing her pink, pouty lips, then licks them, tilting her head to the side.

My blood heats further, and an ache hits me below the belt.

She replies, ‘It was at a secret place.’

‘Well, now you have to tell me,’ I claim.

‘So a pint and chartreuse martini?’ Molly interjects in an irritated voice.

I snap my attention toward her. ‘Sorry. Yes.‘

She keeps her frown in place, grabs a pint, and holds it under the tap, pulling the lever toward her.

‘What’s up her booty?’ Zara murmurs in my ear.

I clench my jaw, wishing my dick would settle down.

Don’t go there.

I glance at Molly, the bartender who’s worked at the O’Malley pub for as long as I can remember. She’s always either happy or moody. You never know which Molly you’re getting, but I’m used to it. So I shrug, answering, ‘Who knows.’

Molly slaps down my pint and then grabs the metal shaker.

Fiona steps between us. ‘Make that two, Molly. Please and thank you.’

Molly barely looks at her and mutters, ‘Sure.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Fiona asks.

Leave it to my sister to stir up that hornet’s nest and dive right into Molly’s drama.

‘That’s my cue to go outside,’ I announce, grabbing my pint and quickly making my way toward the exit. Relief fills me the farther I get away from Zara. I tell myself it’s just the alcohol making me react to her.

It takes a while to get to the back of the pub. It’s full of O’Malleys, O’Connors, Ivanovs, and Marinos. There’s no one here I don’t know, and I get pulled into several conversations. By the time I finally step outside, my cock feels normal, but my problem has followed me.

Even though it’s cold outside, Zara’s sitting in a chair, her long legs crossed and covered in goose bumps. She taps her pale-pink nails on the table, lost in whatever she’s reading on her phone. And she doesn’t look happy. She pins her eyebrows together, seeming anxious or maybe even upset.

Against my will, I weave through the handful of people, take off my sports coat, and put it over her shoulders.

She glances up in surprise.

I pull out the chair next to her and plop down. I grin, putting my face beside hers, and ask, ‘Is your world falling apart?’

She tears her gaze from mine, taking another glance at her screen, then tosses her phone into her purse. She smiles, but it’s not as vibrant as before. She replies, ‘Usual stuff.’

‘Why don’t I buy that?’ I question, locking my gaze to hers.

She stays quiet.

My face falls, and my heart beats faster. ‘Zara, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing.’

I study her closer.

‘Really,’ she insists.

‘Something’s going on. I’ve known you forever,’ I remind her.

She hesitates, opens her mouth, then shuts it. She takes a deep breath and then slowly releases it.

Loud music fills the air, and I glance behind us. The few people outside disappear into the pub, and the song muffles when the door shuts.

I turn back to Zara. ‘It’s just us, and I can keep a secret. Why do you look distressed?’

Tension grows between us, and her silence persists.

I wait her out, knowing I can usually get her to cave, but she doesn’t.

‘Is it about your latest boyfriend?’

She scoffs. ‘No. I don’t have one right now.‘

Hope fills me, and I scold myself. I ask, ‘Since when?’

She shrugs. ‘A few days ago.’

‘What happened? I thought you and Zach were reunited forever,’ I tease, but I’m secretly happy. Zach’s a good guy, but I never thought he was strong enough for her. They dated for a few years when they were in college. I was surprised when I found out they reconnected.

‘Nope! Should have known once it’s over, it’s over,’ she states, not seeming crushed at the situation.

‘So what’s upsetting you if it’s not Zach?’ I push.

She taps her fingers on the table, staring at me.

‘Come on. You can tell me. I promise it’ll stay between us.’

She looks away.

I stay quiet, wondering what has her so rattled.

She finally turns and speaks. ‘If I ask you a question, will you give me your honest answer and then promise not to dig further?’

My stomach flips. I knew something was going on. I nod and vow, ‘I swear.’

She takes a sip of her drink and then sets it down. Her eyes turn darker.

A while passes, and I finally assert, ‘Whatever it is, you can ask me.’

She blurts out, ‘If you could replace out everything you wanted about your father, would you?’

Chills run down my spine. The anger, sadness, and loss I always feel when I think about my father ignites inside me. I don’t hesitate, answering, ‘Yes.’

She inhales deeply and nods.

I glance behind me again to ensure we’re still on our own. I lean closer, confused but unable to keep my promise. My father’s been dead since I was a child, so I need answers. ‘How could you possibly know anything about my father?’

She points at me. ‘I said no more questions. But for your information, it’s not about yours. It’s about mine.’

A mixture of disappointment and relief fills me. If Zara did know something about my father that I didn’t, it would surely be a situation that put her at risk with people she shouldn’t be around. I point out, ‘Your father is inside. He’s in your life. What am I missing?’

She shakes her head and looks at the sky, muttering, ‘You know he won’t tell me the truth.’

My chest tightens. Zara’s always wanted to know more about why her father wasn’t in her life until she was fifteen. Her parents told her it was to protect her from the Abruzzos, which is true, but she isn’t stupid. She knows every family at this party is a crime family, and there’s more to every story, even though Zara’s not involved in our family businesses.

I carefully choose my words, knowing it’s not fair, based on my lack of knowledge about what happened to my father. Yet there’s no way I’d ever want Zara, my sister, or any of my female cousins involved in the family business.

My aunt Alaina is, but she was born into it and left her clan to marry my uncle Brody. She’s as badass as they come, but it’s not what most women would ever want. There’s no way Zara comes close to Alaina’s ability to rule a clan. It takes a level of calculated ruthlessness, and Zara doesn’t have it in her.

‘I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you have your father in your life. It’s more than Fiona or I have. Sometimes, we have to be grateful for what we do have.’

Her eyes turn to slits.

I toss my hands in the air. ‘What? You asked, and I told you what I think.’

She clenches her jaw. ‘Fine.’ She finishes her drink, sets it down, then pushes her chair back. She rises.

I grab her arm and stand. ‘Don’t stomp off like a little brat.’

She smirks. ‘I don’t stomp. I saunter.’

I pin her with a sterner look.

She glances at my hand. ‘You can let me go now.’

I don’t. I step even closer. This question she asked me is loaded with too many red flags, the biggest one being that she could be in danger. If anyone is approaching her with details on her father, they can’t be on our side. And that makes them our enemy. So I demand, ‘Who’s telling you they have information on Luca?’

‘No one,’ she lies.

I grunt. ‘Do you think I’m naive?’

‘Let it go, Sean.’

‘Zara, certain things are meant to stay buried. If your father thinks his past should be⁠—’

‘But you’d dig into your father’s past,’ she accuses.

I stay silent, my heart beating harder.

She huffs. ‘You don’t see how hypocritical that is?’

‘It’s different.’

‘No, it’s not,’ she spouts.

I stand my ground. ‘It’s not the same.’

‘Just because your dad is dead doesn’t mean it negates my situation,’ she claims.

Tension builds between us.

My worry turns to fear. I caution, ‘Don’t step into a world you aren’t meant for, Zara.’

‘What does that mean?’ she hurls back.

I take a deep breath and try to stay calm, but the thought of Zara interacting with our enemies makes me ill. ‘Nothing is free in your father’s world. If someone knows things, there’s a price to pay to get that information. I doubt it’s one you want to ante up.’

‘Why? Because I’m a woman?’ she fumes.

‘Yes.’

She glares at me. ‘You’re chauvinistic.’

‘Sue me.’

She shrugs away from my grip and crosses her arms, claiming, ‘Alaina can run circles around any man in any of the families here. If you want me to prove it, I’ll go in there and create a situation, then let her display her abilities.’

I scoff. ‘You don’t have to do anything of the sort. I don’t disagree with you.’

‘Ha! See! Proved you wrong!’

I close the space between us, grab the back of her head, and lean over her face. ‘No. You’re not Alaina. No one is Alaina, for that matter. So stop acting like you’re someone you’re not, because all you’re going to do is get yourself into a situation you have no business being in.’

She gasps, her eyes blazing with fire, her signature scent she makes with several perfumes, somehow growing more intense between us. She lowers her blues to my lips, pouting her own.

My pulse pounds between my ears. Her hot breath mingles with mine. The wind whips around us, and I circle my other arm around her to protect her from it, tugging her closer against me. I mutter, ‘Stop being a brat,’ even though her attitude is taunting my dick.

She swallows hard, her gaze pinned to my mouth, and states, ‘I’ve said more than I should have. Let’s forget this conversation.’

My erection throbs against her stomach, my veins burning with desires I shouldn’t have. At least, not for her. But I can’t stop myself. I suggest, ‘Maybe I need to put you over my lap and slap your ass until you tell me what this is all about.’

She gapes at me, her cheeks burning and her chest rising and falling faster against mine.

Music blares, tearing us out of our trance. Fiona steps onto the patio with Shannon and some of their other friends.

My sister glares at me in disapproval. It’s not the first time she’s caught me and Zara in a moment with our hands on each other, even though nothing has ever happened. She beelines toward us, interjecting, ‘What’s going on out here?’

I release Zara. ‘Nothing.’

‘Doesn’t look like nothing,’ Fiona asserts, glancing between us.

‘He’s right. It’s nothing,’ Zara agrees, then grabs her purse off the table, brushes past us, and adds, ‘I need another drink.’

Fiona watches her leave and then spins on me. ‘What was that all about?’

‘None of your business. Get over yourself.’ I tug Shannon into me and kiss her on the cheek. ‘Happy birthday! I couldn’t get to you with all the people inside.’

Happiness radiates from her. She hugs me back. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘Like I would miss it.‘

‘Well, I know you’re busy with all your fights, Mr. Champion,’ she teases.

I groan. ‘Not you too.’

‘Don’t make his head bigger than it is,’ Fiona adds.

Pride fills Shannon’s features, reminding me of how Boris looked at her earlier. She says, ‘I need a favor from you.’

‘Anything for my favorite cousin,’ I reply.

Her face lights up more. She asks, ‘Then I shouldn’t be ashamed to ask for four front-row seats to your next fight?’

I chuckle. ‘Nope. You got it.’

She claps. ‘Yay! Thanks, Sean! You’re the best!’

I hug her again. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thanks!’

I brush past them and go back inside, scouring the pub for Zara. Before I can replace her, I run into Maksim Ivanov.

His thick Russian accent fills the air. ‘Sean, good fight the other night.’

‘Thanks.’

Uncle Killian steps up next to him. He slings his arm around my shoulders, boasting, ‘Lad learned it all from the great one. Me.’

Maksim snorts. ‘That’s debatable.’

Killian declares, ‘You got that jab down like I taught you!’

‘You mean how I taught him,’ my stepfather, Dante, states as he joins us. Then he adds, ‘Your mother’s been looking for you all night.’

‘Where is she?’ I question, glancing around but freezing when I see Zara talking to a dark-haired guy I don’t know.

‘She’s in the big front booth with the other women,’ Dante informs me.

‘Thanks for letting me know. See you all later.’ I zig-zag through the crowd but stop when I get near Zara.

‘I haven’t made up my mind yet,’ she states.

The hairs on my arms rise.

The guy warns, ‘Time is ticking.’

‘Ticking for what?’ I interject.

Zara freezes, then slowly meets my eyes. ‘Stay out of my business, Sean.’

I refocus on the man. I hold out my hand. ‘Sean O’Malley. I don’t think I’ve met you before. Who are you?’

He lifts his chin, squares his shoulders, and shakes my hand. He confidently announces, ‘John Smith.’

‘John Smith?’ I repeat.

‘Yep.’

I arch my eyebrows at Zara.

‘What?’ she questions.

‘John Smith?’

‘What’s wrong with his name?’

I grunt. ‘He just happens to have one of the most common names on earth?’

He chimes in, ‘Can’t help it, man. Anyway, I’m late for another event. We’ll talk later, Zara.’

Like hell you will.

‘Let me walk you out,’ I offer, but it’s not a choice. I put my hand on his back to steer him toward the door.

‘Sean,’ Zara snaps.

I turn my head and, in my sternest voice, warn, ‘You stay here.’

She opens her mouth but immediately snaps it shut again, glaring at me.

I lead whoever this guy is through the pub door and into the cold. As soon as we get outside, I demand, ‘Who are you? And don’t tell me John Smith.’

He doesn’t flinch, and something tells me he’s not one to scare easily. It makes me want to keep him away from Zara even more. He replies, ‘Can’t help it if my name is John Smith.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘Prove me wrong,’ he challenges, crossing his arms over his chest, displaying a mark near his thumb and index finger.

My gut clenches, as if I’ve been punched hard. I stare harder at his hand. It’s not a tattoo but a branded skull. It has flowers and feathers around it, or maybe it’s leaves. The nose is an upside-down heart. Something drips from the skull’s chin, almost like it’s blood, but there’s no color to it, just the dead skin from whatever hot metal singed him.

For some reason, it seems feminine yet masculine at the same time. I peer closer, knowing I’ve seen it before. I rack my mind to figure out where, but I can’t remember. It’s too far away in my memories, but the sense of déjà vu is too strong to deny that this isn’t the first time I’m seeing it.

Another chill runs down my spine when he lowers his voice and says, ‘You see something you like, Sean?‘

I tear my eyes off the mark, threatening, ‘I’m only going to ask one more time. Who are you?’

‘I told you. I’m John Smith,’ he answers with a cocky grin.

It’s a rare occasion when I feel fear for myself, but it erupts within me, mixing with anger. And the overwhelming thought this guy is no good and needs to stay away from Zara consumes me. Whoever he is, there’s evil resonating from him. I don’t know how or why she’s involved with him, but I need to replace out.

I seethe, ‘What do you want with Zara?’

‘That’s between her, me, and The Underworld,’ he asserts.

‘What’s The Underworld?’

He wags his finger in my face. ‘You wish you knew, don’t you?’

If anyone else responded to my questions this way, I’d turn them bloody before they could take their next breath. Something is telling me now is not the time for that, though. So, I use all the restraint I have in order to keep my curled fists at my sides.

I step closer and snarl, ‘Listen to me closely. You’re not welcome here. You’re not welcome near Zara. If you step within eyesight of her, the pub, our allies, or anyone else in my family, I’ll make sure it’s the last time you make a mistake. Are we clear?’

He doesn’t flinch. My threat only makes him stand stronger. Amusement fills his expression. ‘You have a lot to learn, Sean O’Malley Jr. I promise you, the next time you want to make threats against me, you’ll think twice.’

How does he know I’m a junior?

‘Yeah? Why is that?’ I question.

His lips twitch. ‘I figured you were like him.’

I freeze, my heart racing, blurting out, ‘Like who?‘

He opens his mouth, but a woman’s squealing voice interrupts him. ‘Sean O’Malley! You’re here!’

I tear my eyes off him just as Shannon’s friend, Milani, throws her arms around me.

‘I’m in the middle of something,’ I tell her, but I can smell tequila on her. She’s too unsteady on her feet for me to easily shrug her off without her falling.

‘You did so good the other night!’ she screeches in my ear.

I cringe and carefully push her away. ‘Thanks. Go inside, and I’ll talk to you in a few minutes.’ I open the door and motion for her to pass me.

She puts her hand on my cheek as she strolls through the door, swaying her hips.

I turn to finish my conversation and then freeze.

I’m alone on the sidewalk.

John Smith has disappeared like a ghost, taking all the answers to my questions with him.