I composed myself and nodded. “I’ll try my best.”
“Good.” She gave me a little shove toward the door.
I opened it up and stepped inside.
My father sat on a formal leather sofa across from a coffee table set with tea service. Books lined tall wooden shelves and a fire crackled in a stone hearth. Roman stood near the mantle, staring into the flames, and my dad looked over with a surprised frown.
Roman didn’t turn. Of course he didn’t. He was so dramatic.
“Ah, there you are,” Roman said. “We were just talking about you.”
“Nothing bad, I hope.” I stared down at my father and tried to summon all the courage I had in my skinny little body.
He gazed back with an upturned lip. “Oisin believes you found an excellent match.”
“Of course he does. That’s what I’m good for, isn’t it, Dad?”
He looked away and didn’t answer. “Oisin’s willing to come to the wedding under certain circumstances.”
“It’s my wedding. I’m not interested in negotiating.”
“Then I doubt Oisin will show.”
Roman glanced back at me. “What do you say, wife? Will you give up your vision of your special day so some old Irish man will grace us with his presence?”
“I’ve had enough old Irish men to last me a lifetime, but I’m willing to make some sacrifices.” I walked around the couches and joined Roman at the fire.
“What does he want then?”
My father cleared his throat. I stood close to Roman and felt the warmth of the flames lick against my skin—or maybe that was my own flush at being so near to my husband.
“Neutral ground. Somewhere in Chicago.”
“Not Chicago. You’re gaining too much strength there.”
“Atlanta then.” Dad showed his teeth. “We’re still working on Atlanta.”
“Atlanta works.”
“He wants his security detail. And he wants Darren Servant in attendance.”
Roman didn’t move. He stood so still I thought his body might turn to rock. “Security I’ll grant him, but not Darren Servant.”
“Servant’s the only person in this world that can keep you under control, Roman. Oisin won’t show without him.”
“Then Oisin won’t show. I don’t need this relationship, especially not if it’s going to involve another Oligarch.”
“Oisin is only looking for safety.”
I put my hand on Roman’s arm. That surprised him, and he turned slightly toward me, chin tilted, lips pulled down.
“Surely Oisin’s men can keep him safe,” I said, shaking my head. “Why get someone else involved?”
“Because your husband started a war between the Ramos Cartel and the Liberto Mafia and that’s raging out of control all over Philadelphia, Austin, and San Diego. Osin thinks he’s less likely to do something stupid with another Oligarch present, especially Servant.”
Roman’s arm flexed under my fingers. He hated Darren Servant with a strange passion—I didn’t know why, but I got the sense that the men had a past.
“That’s the last concession I’ll give,” Roman said through clenched teeth, holding back rage. “Darren may come, but he’ll come alone. If I find any of Servant’s men in attendance, they will die, and our deal will be off. Do you understand?”
“Understood.” Dad nodded once but didn’t stand. An awkward silence stretched, and Roman stared at him like he was dismissed, but still he didn’t move. “I was hoping I could speak with my daughter privately.”
Roman looked at me. I felt my pulse judder and my fingers dug into Roman’s arm. I didn’t want to be anywhere near my father, and especially not alone in a room with him.
But maybe this could be good for the cause. And maybe I might finally say all the things I’d been dreaming about saying to him over the years.
“It’s okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll talk to him.”
Roman peeled my fingers away gently and kissed my cheek. “I’ll be in the other room. Shout if he gets too close and I’ll put a bullet in his head.” He walked out and shut the doors behind him.
I stayed by the fire. Dad stared at me with those familiar eyes and I almost wanted to make things right between us—I missed my old life and the person I used to be before the incident took away my innocence and locked me deep into a well of self-loathing and anger.
Roman was dragging me out of that darkness, but my father could tip me back down with ease if I let him.
“You look well. Like you’re taking care of yourself.” Dad picked up a teacup and sipped.
“You look the same. What do you want? Or did you plan on telling me how I’m ruined again?”
He flinched, like I’d slapped him. “I regret saying that.”
“You should. I was in the hospital with a stab wound. I was barely alive and only just escape getting raped, and you acted like I was broken and worthless to you.”
“It was wrong.” He closed his eyes. Tea spilled down the sides of the cup. His hand trembled as he put it back down on the tray. “I was upset and angry, and I lashed out at you, but you were the wrong person. You didn’t deserve that.”