Chapter 2

The next evening, Ryan and I went to Uncle Doyle's for a family dinner.

We'd just gotten out of the car when we saw Damon standing at the door with a woman.

The woman was Hailey.

"Ryan, someone's trying to kill me." The moment she saw him she threw herself into his arms, her pretty face streaked with tears, clearly terrified.

Ryan frowned and asked in a low voice, "What happened?"

His arms came around her, soothing her in steady strokes, his eyes full of tenderness, as if he'd forgotten I existed.

"Last night, when I got home—" Hailey hiccupped through her sobs, looking scared half to death, and was about to go on when Uncle Doyle came out to meet us.

His pleased expression curdled the instant he took in the scene. "What's going on here?"

Uncle Doyle was a family elder. He'd been through hell and back with my father, and his standing in the family was second to none. The moment Ryan heard his voice, he turned and, without missing a beat, pushed Hailey away.

"Uncle Doyle, this is my cousin. She's run into some trouble." Ryan returned to my side, smooth as anything, and took my hand. "Sweetheart, can Hailey come in with us? She's in real danger right now, and it's because she saved my life. You know that."

I looked at him and said nothing.

Doyle gave a cold snort. "Ryan. As I recall, I only invited Eileen and you tonight, didn’t I?"

"But someone wants me dead, Uncle Doyle." Hailey collapsed at his feet, shaking all over. "Ever since I brought Ryan home from that street corner, covered in blood, those people have been watching me. Last night they got into my room. I was so frightened. Please, Uncle Doyle, I can't go back there."

"Enough. Ryan, can't you handle your own mess?" Doyle was plainly furious. "Since when does any piece of trash get through Doyle's door?"

Hailey blinked. Then she did something none of us saw coming.

She shot to her feet. "How dare you talk about Ryan like that? He's the head of this family. He's my hero. Every one of you should respect him and do as he says."

The room went slack-jawed. I had never been so embarrassed in my life. And Ryan, God help me, looked moved.

Absurd!

"Damon. Take her home," Ryan said, his face cold.

That was for our benefit. Sure enough, he walked over to Hailey, murmured a few words, and whatever he said turned her tears straight into a smile.

On her way out, her hand closed hard between his legs. They thought the gesture was discreet. I knew it was for me.

She even gave me a smug little wave.

"Ryan." Doyle brought his cane down hard. "Look at what you've done. Don't you forget. Without Eileen, you'd still be a nobody on the street."

Before the words finished, Ryan’s expression darkened at once.

He was the family's ruthless Don now, and he couldn't stand to hear about where he came from.

There was no chance we'd be eating dinner tonight.

I stepped forward and gave Doyle a gentle embrace. "Uncle Doyle, you can see how it is. There are things we need to take care of first, so we'll head back tonight. Please look after yourself."

Doyle let out a heavy sigh and said softly in my ear, "Eileen, whatever you decide, you know I'll always be on your side."

I held him again, grateful.

On the drive home, I asked Ryan, "So what do you plan to do about your cousin?"

I leaned hard on the word.

His face was gray, his voice cold. "Of course I remember I got this seat by saving you, the mafia princess. But Hailey saved me too. You of all people should understand what that feels like."

"I would never dirty my own hands, Ryan." I looked at that face, so familiar and so strange, and felt a thin ache in my chest. More than that, I felt sick.

I bore far more responsibilities and had no energy left to condemn his betrayal of our love.

A love gone filthy, a man gone filthy. I wanted neither of them anymore.

"I told you. Handle your mess." I lit a cigarette and spoke to him evenly. "If you can't, then I'll handle you."

The car lurched to a stop with an ugly screech.

I looked at him, cold. He seemed exhausted, breathing hard, as if forcing himself to stay calm.

Then he leaned slowly back against the seat and closed his eyes.

"I told you, there's nothing between me and her. You're the only wife I'll ever have, Eileen." His eyes were deep, his voice almost devout. "I love only you."

But the phone in his shirt pocket, the private one, chose that moment to buzz.