Maeve meets us inside the foyer stoically. I’ve never seen her in person, the contract having been completed in secret weeks ago. But from what I’ve seen of Sloane, I expected another vivacious O’Brien woman, someone who could spar with me until we were both left breathless.
Not. Her.
Dressed in a tight black dress and a simple golden chain hanging down her front, I can only see the barest similarities between her and Sloane. Same dark green eyes, same thick lashes, same sharp chin.
But where there is life in Sloane’s gaze, a burning fire that wants to wrap around me and burn me alive, Maeve’s gaze is frozen like death. Her eyes scan us, calculating, looking for possible weakness.
Even in her thigh-high boots, her head barely reaches my chin.
“Nico. Alessio.” Her voice is dry, low. Sultrier than Sloane’s lovely feminine delight.
“Ace,” Nico greets, kissing her hand. There’s a twitch to her lips, but she doesn’t smile.
I raise her hand to do the same and get the same cool response. Not much impresses the leader and strangely, I admire it.
Her indifferent eyes sweep over my form again, taking in my polished shoes, to the Prada jacket, and the unbuttoned black shirt. Her brow quirks but that’s all the response I get.
Finally, she nods once. “You’ll do.”
When she glances to my uncle, there’s a flicker of warmth in her eyes. At Nico.
I’ve never seen anyone outside the family show an ounce of care to my uncle. But this slight woman? There’s something between them, a connection I’m not privy to understanding.
Nico is the Capo of the largest Italian family in Boston. Enemies have been known to plot his death. For a rival, for a Captain, to look at him with such tenderness, is unthinkable.
As soon as the emotion comes, it’s wiped clean.
“Follow me.”
Nico chuckles, which morphs into a wet cough. She frowns, taking his arm and wrapping it within her own. If anyone saw, they’d assume he was leading her into the dining room, but I see the way she supports him. The way he leans against her shoulder.
Odd. Nico never lets anyone see him weak. Very rarely me.
The doors to the dining room are closed, sliding pocket doors with worn edges and brass handles. Ace turns to examine me, her cold eyes narrowing on my form.
I fight the urge to cower.
“I’m sure your uncle has made it abundantly clear what I expect from this arrangement.”
I shift, hands sliding into my pockets, to appear unaffected. “A fair deal between import businesses.”
She cuts me a glare. “My sister’s safety. That is above all else.”
“The great Ace O’Brien, brokered an entire deal with a rival family just to give her sister some sort of security in this world?” It’s taunting, and the Captain doesn’t take well to it.
Those eyes darken, but her face remains emotionless. I’m instantly on edge.
“I would sell my soul so Sloane would never have to.”
My lips pull into a smirk but it’s fake. There’s not much to joke about with her deadly tone. “A cute sentiment. But you do realize you’ve sold your baby sister into one of the most dangerous mafia outfits in the Northeast?” Safety is a hard ask.
That soft smile grows into something wicked and lethal. “And you do realize, I will kill you, and everything you hold dear if one hair on her head is harmed?”
I have to respect her for the direct way she says it, even with the current Capo on her arm. Maeve doesn’t care who she offends, she’ll make her point known.
The contract might be for two warring families to bury the hatchet, to grow an alliance and take in the spoils of an operation, but Ace is making it abundantly clear: she doesn’t care about the money or the business. She cares about keeping Sloane safe.
Something she can’t do in her clan alone. Why?
Nico shifts to say something, but it would be pointless. This is her home, her territory. We can’t say anything back, not without retribution.
Resolutely, I nod. “Understood.”
My singular goal has gone from honoring the arrangement and giving loyalty to a woman who would rather run from me, to now keeping that woman safe and protected from a life of bloodshed and death. Protected so my family, my organization, doesn’t go up in flames at Ace’s request.
Easy.
