I’d finally live a life I could find joy in.
But in my faith, we only have this one life to live. After that, we can either expect our deeds to send us to St. Peter’s pearly white gates or to the sulfur-smelling fiery pits of hell. I’ve made my peace with that, too. Either one is preferable to the purgatory I’ve lived so far.
With those thoughts in mind, I close my eyes and send a silent prayer to the virgin mother.
“Virgen de Guadalupe, Te lo ruego. Please let me do my duty with ease and grace. Let the man who I’m to marry be patient, if not kind. Let him see my struggle as his own and let him be merciful. Should he need to discipline me in any fashion, let me be brave enough to take my punishment with dignity. And most of all, let my womb bear healthy sons. If I’m to be deprived of love, let me at least know the joy of motherhood. In them, I can seek comfort when life is cruel and hard. Por favor, give me the poise to bring my husband pride and the good sense not to hinder whatever affection he may show me.”
I whisper three Hail Marys after my solemn prayer before I’m interrupted by Alejandro’s return.
“You’re praying again,” he reprimands. “No God above will aid you in your time of need. If anything should happen to you, then the only person you should be going to your knees for is your husband.”
The crude statement makes me both cringe and, to my horror, blush.
“Yes, that’s it, hermana. Please Tiernan in the bedroom and give him all the Irish babies he wants. Once he’s had a few boys to ensure the bloodlines, then he’ll tire of you and seek some other woman’s bed. That is all you can hope for. Then you will live like a queen—because I’ll make sure that he does—and he’ll leave you alone, too preoccupied with business and mistresses to pay you any mind. From my calculations, all you’ll have to endure is five years tops to be free of your shackles.”
“Five years?” I ask, completely overwhelmed with everything he’s saying.
Is it possible that I can have my freedom after all? One that isn’t chained to the Irish mob?
“I see the idea pleases you.” My brother smirks.
“I never considered it to be an option.”
“Well, it is, hermana. Do you think you can handle five years?”
“Yes.” I don’t even have to think about it, blurting out the word with the biggest smile on my face.
The thought that all I have to endure is five years is like someone reducing my life sentence to a misdemeanor.
“Good. Now buckle up, we’re about to land. You are finally going to meet your novio. And remember, Rosa, what I shared with you today. Stay clear of his brother and cousin. They have your soon-to-be husband’s ear and can easily sway his affections elsewhere. Until Kelly puts a baby in you, you’ll want his undivided attention. Don’t let anyone get in the way of your goal. Not even Tiernan.”
Suddenly the idea of meeting Tiernan Kelly doesn’t scare me as it once did.
In fact, my heart is now full of something I never thought I would feel again.
Hope.
Chapter 3
Shay
“Quit your fucking moping, Colin. I can feel your negative energy from over here,” I reprimand, shifting further away from my cousin and his bad mojo on the hood of the car.
“I don’t like this. Tiernan should have been the one to be here. Not us,” Colin repeats for the hundredth time this morning.
My cousin sounds like one of those one-hit wonders you hear on the radio. At first you find the tune catchy and even bop your head to the beat, but then after a while with so much damn airplay, each chord begins to grate on your nerves.
“Get over it already. He sent us to do his dirty work, and like the good little soldiers we are, that’s exactly what we’ll do. Think of this pickup as it being just another day on the job.”
“This is different. Hernandez won’t be pleased. He’s going to take Tiernan’s absence as disrespect.”
“Fuck him if he does,” I sneer at the mention of our sworn enemy. “What would Alejandro have done in Tiernan’s shoes? Pick up his fiancé from the airport, who he’s never seen before I might add, or stay back home in Boston so he can properly say his goodbyes to his treasured sister? The same sister that is about to marry Bratva scum, by the way? Not necessarily Sophie’s choice, now, is it, Col?”
“You didn’t stay back,” he counters sternly.
“That’s because I hate fucking goodbyes,” I deadpan. “Besides, if I had it my way, Iris wouldn’t be going anywhere. She would stay right fucking here with her family where she belongs.”