Corrupted Union: A Forced Marriage Mafia Romance (The Byrne Brothers Book 2)
Corrupted Union: Chapter 28

We flew back to the city first thing the following morning. I spent the entire time biting my cuticles until my fingers bled. What would my father say when I saw him?

We had texted briefly over the past couple of days, but seeing my parents in person would be different. Would their eyes convey disappointment and heartbreak that texted words left unsaid? If the emotions were present, I’d see it in their eyes. They wouldn’t be able to hide it from me because I knew them too well.

Hurting the people I loved was my greatest fear in life.

I knew how easy it was to cause utter devastation in the flippant passing of a single careless moment.

Keir insisted on walking me to my parents’ door rather than dropping me off out front. In an almost ironic reversal of tradition, Keir walked me up the steps and handed off his new bride to her father. I was probably more nervous this way than had it been the other way around.

“Rowan, honey. I’m so glad you’re home.” Dad wrapped me in a relieved embrace.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Keir’s stare locked with my father’s. Their silent conversation saturated the air with testosterone and tension.

I pulled back to draw my father’s attention, hoping to neutralize the situation. “I’m so sorry to worry you, Daddy.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe. That’s all that matters.” He caught sight of my bandaged hand, his brow furrowing. “What happened here?”

“Just a silly accident.” I waved off his worry, not wanting to explain.

Keir interjected a welcome distraction. “I have a meeting I need to get to, but I’ll return as soon as I finish. We’ll have plenty to discuss.”

My father stared at him with me still tucked at his side before eventually extending his hand to shake. Keir accepted, gave me a small nod, then left us alone.

My knees almost buckled with relief that it was over. The first big hurdle.

Dad must have felt the same. He let loose a breath laden with weariness. “I want you to know, sweetie, that we’ll fix this. As soon as I know you’re safe, I will do everything in my power to help you sever ties with the Byrnes.”

My right hand curled protectively over my left to keep Dad from seeing my tattoo.

Nice try, sis. You didn’t like the idea of erasing Keir from your life. Admit it.

I internally grimaced.

“Is that what you want?” I asked him, sounding smaller than I would have liked.

Dad stilled to study me. “Isn’t that what you want?”

I suddenly had trouble meeting my father’s gaze. “I guess I don’t know what I want. I know you don’t like Keir—”

“It’s not that I don’t like him; he’s just part of a different world than us.”

“I know, but I’ve gotten to know him over the past couple of weeks, and … he’s different than I expected.”

Dad stiffened, then ran a hand through his thinning hair. “He assured me you were on board with the marriage, but that’s not really what I thought he meant. Are you telling me you want to be married to him?”

Oh God. Why was this so hard?

I chewed my bottom lip, trying to replace the right words. “I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t not want to be married to him, but I know how upsetting it would be for you and Mom …”

Dad stepped closer, his brows narrowed. His eyes trailed over my face with the precision of a laser. “Something’s different about you,” he said softly.

I shrugged a shoulder. “A lot has happened recently.”

His features softened. “Maybe more than I realized,” he murmured, then placed his hands on my arms and brought his gaze back to mine. “I don’t dislike him, Ro. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, and if he gives that to you by some strange twist of fate, then I won’t complain.”

“But what about your image? The next election is only a year away.”

He held up his hand to stop me. “Let me worry about that. You’ve always taken on more than you should ever since …” He dropped his eyes briefly to the floor. “Well, you know.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, too.”

He pulled me into his side. “Maybe we can do that later. I really should check on your mom.” He placed a loving kiss on my forehead. “I’m so glad you were able to be home for today.” Emotion gave his voice a tremor. Dad wasn’t one to get choked up, so I was instantly on alert.

“Is Mom okay?” I asked, suddenly realizing how odd it was that she hadn’t been present for my return.

Dad’s answering smile was wrought with sadness. It reached a fist between my ribs and squeezed my battered heart.

“You know how hard today is for her, but she’ll be good as new tomorrow. Like I said, it helps to have you here.” He turned toward the hall to the master bedroom, leaving me slack-jawed and reeling.

Today.

Dear God, I’d lost track of the days.

Grabbing my cell phone, I touched the screen and saw the date glaring shamefully at me. October 13^th—the anniversary of Ivy’s death.

How could I have overlooked it? Mom always locked herself in her room and spent the day crying. I’d been avoiding my phone, but I knew we were approaching mid-October. How could I have possibly forgotten what that meant?

You’ve had a lot going on, Ro. The gentle voice drifted through my head. Don’t be so hard on yourself.

I squeezed my now burning eyes shut.

I’m so sorry, V. I will never, ever let this happen again.

I walked purposely to the drawer in the kitchen where keys to the family car were kept. On the way, my gaze snagged on the liquor cabinet. I fished out the car keys, then grabbed a small bottle of expensive tequila before hustling out the front door. Yes, it was reckless. Yes, I was putting my life in danger. And yes, I hated when women in stories did stupid shit like that, but I did it anyway.

This was for Ivy.

I’d gone to her grave on the anniversary of her death every single year, and I didn’t plan to abandon her now. Not when I was the reason she was dead.

When I was little, my father would take me to see her. The cemetery was outside the city, so it wasn’t a trip we took often. Dad probably preferred doing that to suffering through my mother’s tormented cries. It was the one day a year she let herself fall apart, and aside from Ivy’s death, listening to her wail was the most terrifying thing I’d ever endured. I could have been seven or seventy-seven, and those sounds would still haunt my nightmares. Hearing a parent come undone like that messes with a child. I was no exception.

Early on, I made it my life’s mission to do anything and everything I could to be the perfect daughter. To ensure they felt nothing but joy 364 days a year.

October 13^th, however, was the one day that grief was unavoidable for all of us.

I made the drive in silence. No music. Just me and my guilt as it should be.

I rarely drove anywhere, so it felt odd behind the wheel. I got my driver’s license specifically for this purpose. I didn’t need it in the city, but I didn’t want anything to get in the way of me seeing my sister.

The day was unusually sunny for fall in New England. I was glad. I liked to think of Ivy basking in the sun. She was buried on a hillside. Not a large hill, just a gentle slope. Mom and Dad had purchased a plot for all four of us at the time. I doubted they would have thought so far ahead about their own deaths, but with Ivy gone, it made sense to secure a final resting place for the family to reunite. That meant her gravestone was easy to replace because a halo of empty grass surrounded it.

Ivy Ophelia Alexander

August 5, 2000 – October 13, 2006

Loved with a love beyond telling.

Missed with a grief beyond all tears.

The stone was a beautifully carved slab of white marble. It was eerily peaceful in the cemetery. Some people can’t stand them—a reminder of their own mortality. I could only imagine that those people had never lost someone they loved.

For me, the cemetery was solace. When I sat cross-legged in the grass next to Ivy’s plot, I’d swear I could feel her there with me. She was always present in my thoughts, but this was different. Visits with my sister in the cemetery were precious bubbles of time beyond the reach of the world. I cherished each one.

This one was harder than most, however. The guilt I’d felt so many years ago resurfaced with a vengeance this time.

I lay my palm flat on the ground, tears welling in my eyes. “I’m here, V. And I have so much to tell you.”

In theory, if Ivy’s spirit was that gentle voice in my head, she’d see what I saw, and I wouldn’t have to tell her about my life. A part of me genuinely believed that was the truth. That my sister was still with me. But on the off chance I was just batshit crazy, I always ran through recent events out loud when I visited to cover all my bases.

Usually, I would have started where I left off at my last visit. This visit was different. Nothing before Keir’s arrival seemed of any relevance. Anything and everything that mattered had happened since he first appeared in my parents’ kitchen.

I ran through every minute detail of events, sipping from the tequila bottle as I went. I told her about how Keir made me feel, about the girl in the attic and how she made me think of her. I explained my mixed emotions about Stetson and how bad I felt about hurting him.

“You know I don’t want to hurt anyone. All I’ve ever wanted was to make people happy. But for the first time, V, I started to ask myself what I wanted. And the answer wasn’t as clear as I thought it would be. Or maybe, the answer is clear, but I’ve choosen to black it out. Either way, the one thing I can say for sure is that my path wasn’t taking me where I wanted to go. So where does that leave me, V?” I spread my hands wide, liquid sloshing from the bottle in one fist.

I peered at it and noticed it was lower than I’d expected. Had I spilled a bunch, or had I had that much to drink? Did I care either way?

I looked up at the trees in the distance, my head spinning from the movement.