Page 138 of Vows of a Mobster

Mateo and I rode with two of his men in the front seat, and there was a car behind us and another car in front of us with more men. I tried to ignore all that extra security. I was somewhat used to it growing up with my stepdad but this was different. I didn’t know how, but without a doubt, I knew it was different.

When we got to the restaurant, Mateo helped me out of the car. His eyes were hungry on me. They had been devouring me from the moment I descended the stairs.

The emerald green dress I wore hugged every one of my curves. The soft material felt light against my body, and the night air cool against my exposed back.

I felt his warm, big palm on my back and my skin seared from his touch in the best way possible.

“I can’t wait to take you home,” he whispered in my ear, both of our steps slow as we entered the restaurant. I still couldn’t comprehend why so many people came for this wedding on such short notice.

I glanced at the man who would become my husband in less than twenty-four hours, drowning in his stunning gaze. There was such fierce protectiveness, admiration and craving in those mesmerizing eyes. My heart thumped wildly, and I was sure it would remain in that state till the ceremony and reception were behind us.

My step faltered and both of us stopped in the lobby of the restaurant. I turned to face him, reaching for his tie, both his hands now on my waist.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded, his voice low.

The emerald ring on my finger was a stark flash of color against his dark suit. The brilliant stone in the ring was hard to miss. It must be worth a fortune.

“I guess maybe I’m a bit nervous,” I mumbled low. “Marissa told me a long time ago in your family marriages are usually arranged with people with similar backgrounds. I’m not exactly of a similar background.”

“Nothing to be nervous about.” He bent his head and kissed me lightly. “I will be with you the entire time.” I noticed he didn’t contradict the statement though. “Besides, it only matters what I say.”

A strained laugh escaped me. “It’s good to be the boss.”

He grinned, nuzzling me. “Yes, it is.”

A commotion broke our moment and Mateo raised his head. His face turned hard and his eyes cold. I followed his gaze. Declan stood barely five feet away from us, with three younger versions of him, one older version, and an older woman.

“Hello, Brianna,” Declan grinned, eyeing me like I was the best piece of candy. “So nice to see you again. I hoped we’d meet again, although without your sidekick.” His gaze lingered on my left hand, where the emerald ring screamed I was Mateo’s. Mateo’s body stiffened next to me, ready to pounce. I wondered if Declan purposely taunted him. Now that I knew some of the story between him and Marissa, I knew he wasn’t into me.

“Hello, Declan,” I greeted him calmly. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mateo’s men rounding up.

I took Mateo’s left hand with my right, and my left hand came across my front to grip his sleeve. I knew he’d want his right hand free to reach for his gun, although there’d be no need.

I hope.

My eyes traveled over the group in his company. There was no question, the O'Connor family were a good-looking bunch. They had some good genes, for sure.

“These are my brothers,” he motioned with his head, his eyes never leaving me and Mateo. He must have noticed watching them curiously. “And my parents, Declan Sr. and Aoife.”

“Aoife?” I exhaled in surprise. My eyes snapped to the old woman. The silence stretched and I knew I should have kept the surprise to myself. I took a calming breath. “That’s a beautiful name,” I spoke evenly, while my heart beat wildly.

Isthis the woman I’m searching for?Dr. Guzman said he had a match, but if something went astray, it would be good to have a backup plan.

“What are you doing here?” Mateo growled. “This is not your side of town.”

Ah, shit.I didn’t realize there were sides of the town between Irish and Italians.

“This is a free country,” Declan Sr. spoke back, his spine straightening. The old man must have been a force in his younger days. If Declan Jr. aged half as good as his father, he would be a good-looking old man. Marissa might be a lucky girl.

Mateo took a threatening step forward, and without thinking, I pulled on his hand. “Mateo,” I whispered.

“What’s the matter, Mateo?” Declan Jr. mocked. “Scared your intended bride might see there is something better for her out there. I think my youngest brother might be a few years older than her. She might prefer younger meat. More stamina.”

Mateo lunged and grabbed Declan by his collar before I could even process what was happening. Guns were pulled out from all sides. Declan’s family wasn’t here without their protection either.

“Mateo,” my voice was a whimper, and my hands shook. “He’s just joking.”

Declan’s eyes came to me and winked, a smile playing around his lips, despite my future husband’s hand gripping his neck.