Silent Vows: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (The Byrne Brothers Book 1)

“Well, I wish I could tell you I know loads of Irish recipes, but that would be a lie. I do know how to cook, but mostly Italian.” Rather than sit like he suggested, I took out the butter and parmesan from the fridge.

“You have a favorite?” he asked, starting to chop an onion on a cutting board.

I leaned against the counter near him, realizing I’d begun to feel almost comfortable. Probably best not to think about it too much, or I’d draw out some worry to throw me off kilter. “I guess my favorite would be this enchilada casserole Mom taught me.”

“I hate to break it to you, but that’s not Italian.”

“I said I cook mostly Italian with a few other dishes thrown in to keep things fresh.” I watched him cutting, feeling a tinge of sting in my eyes from the onion. “I don’t even know what Irish food is.”

“Potatoes,” he teased dryly. “Lots of potatoes with the occasional sausage. Sheperd’s pie or a stew. Hearty food—gotta eat something to soak up the whiskey.” He tossed the onion into a warming skillet with a tablespoon of olive oil, then checked his phone.

“Shit,” he grumbled, frowning as he peered at the sizzling pan. “I have to go. You think you can finish this?”

“You’re leaving?” The words came out sounding more accusatory than I’d meant.

“That a problem?”

I shook my head quickly. “No,” I assured him. “Will there be someone here with me?”

His thick black brows drew together. “Does there need to be?”

“Not at all. I just haven’t been allowed home alone in a long time. It feels strange.”

A menacing shadow darkened his features. “This isn’t a prison, Noemi. I’d prefer if you had me or one of my men with you when you go out, but I’d like to think you don’t need someone lording over you.” He studied me for a second longer. “I need to get changed.”

Ten minutes later, he was gone.

Married and alone, like my mother had been. Was this how things had begun for her? Would I ever have any claim on him if Conner could be called away even on his wedding night?

As my brother’s magic Eightball would probably say: outlook not so good.

I pushed aside the sinking feeling that tugged at my chest and put the finishing touches on the risotto. While it cooled, I figured out how to turn on the TV and found a music app. I considered selecting a haunting playlist that would suit my growing melancholy but refused to allow myself to wallow. My situation might not have been ideal, but it was better than before. I was alone, for the moment, which was more freedom than I’d been allowed in over six months.

I selected a summer party playlist. What better way to focus on the silver lining than pool party tunes?

Once I was done eating, I turned up the music to hear it throughout the apartment and familiarized myself with my new home. I found a stack of my boxes in a guest room that I’d need to sort through at some point and took inventory of one more spare bedroom, Conner’s office, and a room dedicated to exercise equipment. Most of the house was located on one side while the master suite was on the other, allowing for privacy.

Returning to that side, I peeked through Conner’s things, scoping out the closet and bathroom. Like most men I knew, he kept a loaded handgun in a nightstand drawer. I knew how to shoot, but guns weren’t my favorite thing, so I left that alone. Otherwise, nothing of interest jumped out at me, mostly because he hardly had any things. No tchotchkes from trips or personal items. He had a couple of framed family photos and an old set of rosary beads on his dresser. That was it.

Seemed a bit lonely to me.

Not for long!

I grinned to myself, feeling devious, and headed for the guest room housing my boxes. If this was supposed to be my home, then so be it. I’d make the place feel a bit more like mine. If he didn’t like that, too bad. It served him right for leaving me alone on our wedding night.

“Not such a demure bride, after all, am I, Mr. Reid?” I giggled to myself and dove into unpacking.