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"Marco..."
He holds up a hand. "Save it. I was a fool to think that you would have something real with me then. I'm a fucking criminal, and you’re..." he studies me. "I don't know. You're either caught in something you can't get out of, or you're lying to everyone you’ve ever met. Either way, Roisin, I don't want anything to do with it. I'll help you with this, but after, we're done."
Ignoring the ache that his words bring, I take a deep breath. "Why help at all?"
Marco studies me.
"Your boss, Agent O'Hara, is right. I don't know how to set myself up for my own success. I only know how to do it for others. Might as well tie up this last loose end before I walk away entirely, leaving everyone else to the ends of their stories while I figure out what the fuck to do with mine."
Marco turns, marching toward the bus station, and I watch his back.
I'm not imagining it.
Seamus' words shook him to the core.
It sounds like both of us have had to deal with hard truths today.
And neither one of us is happy about it.
We end up taking a bus to a car dealership, where Marco walks in and out ten minutes later with the keys to a brand new Jaguar SUV.
I climb inside, looking at him. "Really?"
"What?" he says as the engine purrs to life.
"Isn't this car a little conspicuous?"
He rolls his eyes. "Would Liam expect me to show up in anything else, if I was truly in a relationship with his sister?"
Okay.
That's fair.
I make a little noise in my throat and look around at the car. It's gorgeous, of course. And Marco's right... no self-respecting mafia man would ever be caught dead in anything other than the most luxurious car in the world.
Especially if they were trying to impress one of their own.
The Jaguar growls as he revs the engine, and we turn onto one of Dublin's tiny streets. I'm expecting him to ask for directions or take the road out of town, but instead we pull up outside of a very expensive looking department store.
The valet comes for the door, and I look at Marco. "What are we doing here?"
He pulls out his wallet. "We're buying new clothes."
"But..."
"Again, do you want to make this work or not, Roisin?"
I blink.
Marco leans over. "You're going to buy yourself some clothes. They're going to be the most expensive, most luxurious versions of the clothes you would want. We're going to meet back here in three hours and you're going to tell me how to get to your brother's fucking house. Got it?"
I nod.
I can't help it. I'm not usually one who likes being told what to do, but the low, throaty command in Marco's voice is...
Electrifying.
The valet is practically knocking on the window now, and I let him open the door. Marco and I get out, and like a shadow, I follow him into the department store.