My foot slams on the brake. I crane my head around Nathan’s to get a better view.

  “What the hell, Jack? Are you trying to give us whiplash?” he gripes, his hand braced against the dashboard.

  Whoever I think I saw is gone, or was never there. Damn it. I glance in Nathan’s direction. “Sorry.”

  Shaking off the sensation, I quickly find a spot. We exit the vehicle and head into the church, the two of them already bickering about who gets the front seat after the ceremony. I ignore them and scan every person I pass, nodding absently at familiar faces—both Italian and Irish—but I can’t find the one I swore I saw outside.

  “Boys,” a voice calls.

  Our mother stands at the end of one of the rows of pews with a broad smile on her face and a red-headed toddler on her hip. She waves at us, and our niece, Saoirse, mimics her. The three of us cross the short distance.

  “Hello, Mother,” I greet her with a kiss on the cheek, then give the same treatment to the giggling girl she’s holding.

  Paddy and Nathan follow behind me and the latter blows raspberries against our niece’s neck causing another loud burst of riotous laughter. Heads turn at the noise before facing forward again. Our mother moves to the opposite end of the pew where Da and Caitlín sit.

  “Where’s Brenna and Emilio?” Paddy asks.

  “They’re up front with Pierce and Mila and Gio and Francesca,” Caitlín answers.

  I settle in next to her and go back to scanning the room. Soft chatter from my family comes from my left, but I don’t join in. Instead, I tune them out, already thinking of how quickly I can disappear once the ceremony is over. It’s not that I don’t love my sister and her children, but I’m feeling…I’m not sure. Restless, maybe?

  Finally, the priest begins to speak.

  My attention focuses on the front of the sanctuary where Brenna and Emilio, who’s holding Cristiano, stand proudly. There’s a sheen of happy tears in Brenna’s eyes as the priest prays.

  Angry cries soon echo throughout the cavernous room as water is splashed on my nephew’s forehead. The sound reverberates through my head, and I wince. People chuckle and some flinch in sympathy. I can’t blame the poor bloke for being upset. I wouldn’t want anyone dumping cold water on my face either.

  The priest offers a final prayer and almost before the last amen is finished, the crowd rises from their seats to file out of the sanctuary and congregate in the vestibule. I turn to my family to say my goodbyes and glance toward the aisle at the end of our pew. A jolt of shock pierces me. I freeze.

  She’s lost a significant amount of weight, and her wavy, brown hair is down around her shoulders, obscuring part of her face, but there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s the same woman.

  I don’t pause to think about what I’m doing. I’m on my feet and navigating around people, my gaze never leaving her as she lengthens the distance between us. I’m afraid if I take my eyes off her, she’ll disappear again. Someone calls my name behind me, but I ignore it, shouldering past people in my way.

  Far too slowly, I close the distance between us, until finally, I’m within arm’s reach. I gently grab her hand. “Aisling.”

  The name comes out rougher than I intended. Her entire body goes rigid as she stops mid-step. She trembles beneath my fingertips. Neither of us move, until at long last, she pivots. I scan her face. Everything about her is the same, but different.

  Chocolate-colored eyes peer back at me with an indecipherable gaze. They appear dull and lifeless. Her previously full cheeks are sunken in, giving a pronounced definition to the bones lining them. If I thought her expression had been sad three years ago, it’s even more so now.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  I blink at the harshly spat words and turn my head. A corpulent, white-haired man I hadn’t noticed stands beside her. He’s glaring at me as though I’m dirt beneath his shoe. There’s a warning, blaring in the back of my mind, but I push it away.

  “Jack Donnelly. Brenna’s brother,” I tack on, belatedly releasing my hold on her.

  In a flash, his entire demeanor changes, and a smile lights up his weathered face. “Ah, yes, the Irish Donnellys. It’s a pleasure to meet one of Mrs. Ricci’s family members. I’m Alessandro Costa.” He reaches out to shake my hand.

  I reluctantly clasp it in mine. His grip is weak. “A pleasure. Are you a relative of Emilio’s?”

  The man chuckles. “Merely a business associate, I’m afraid.”

  My eyes dart in Aisling’s direction. Her chin rests nearly on her chest and her hair provides a curtain around her face. Her complexion has paled, and she’s staring at the floor. My brow creases. This isn’t the same woman who kneed me in the balls. “Is this your granddaughter?”

  The old man’s grin fades, and he straightens his spine. “This is Aurora.” His hand goes around her waist and he pulls her against his side. “My wife.”

  Chapter 5

  Aurora

  * * *

  Jack.

  I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. My stomach tosses and turns. I’m afraid I might vomit all over him. Mortification runs through me. How could I have not thought Jack would be here? Mrs. Ricci is his sister after all.

  Against my will, I glance up at him, expecting disgust, but not finding any. It’s worse. His expression is completely closed off. Indifferent. He bows politely, only it feels like a mockery of the courtly one he presented me on that balcony that day.

  “Mrs. Costa. It’s nice to meet you.”

  I nod almost absently and my gaze quickly returns to the floor. Alessandro has grown rigid beside me. No doubt, I’ll pay for some imagined indiscretion later.

  “If you’ll excuse us, we must be going,” my husband says, with a bit of bite in his tone. “Aurora.”

  His hand loops around my arm and his nails dig into the underside where no one can see. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. My eyes stay locked on the parquet flooring as my husband leads me out of the sanctuary.

  We nearly make it to the door, but Lucia steps in our path, effectively blocking the exit. “Alessandro.” She nods with a polite smile, her gaze darting to where his grip finally loosens. “Aurora. I’m so glad to see you both. I missed you for our coffee date.”

  “Lucia.” He greets her with the fake smile he uses to charm people and brushes a kiss on each of her cheeks. “Aurora told me you flew in this week. Lovely to see you again. I’m afraid we had a prior commitment on Thursday she’d forgotten about. How are things with that little hobby of yours?”

  She chuckles lightly, but I can see the anger burning in her eyes. Neither my father nor any of my uncles take her chosen career seriously. “Oh, you know. Just tinkering with the new things people bring me. Although in this case, I should say old things.”

  “Sounds dreadfully boring. You should be trying to find a husband instead of gallivanting around England playing in the dirt with toys no one cares about anymore.”

  I bite my bottom lip to keep from choking. Lucia straightens and glares, her mouth a tight, flat line. “Considering you are neither my father nor keeper, I wouldn’t worry too much about my marital status or hobbies if I were you.”

  I’m not sure how she manages to keep a civil tone. She would no doubt say something far more scathing, but I send her a pleading glance and almost infinitesimal shake of my head.

  Lucia pastes on a conciliatory smile. “But I’ll take your suggestion under advisement.”

  I nearly sigh in relief. I’m far too familiar with Alessandro’s temper. If he can’t take it out on her, he’ll gladly use me in her place. He studies her, as though gauging her sincerity. At last, he palms my arm again, his grip looser than before. We’ve drawn too much attention.

  “Always a pleasure, Lucia. You’ll have to excuse us, though, I’m afraid. Aurora isn’t feeling well, and she needs some fresh air before we head to the reception,” Alessandro says as though he’s one of those doting husbands.

  She glances at me. “Of course. I’ll see you shortly.”

  He guides me around her and out the door, leading us across the parking lot until we’re both settled in the backseat of the town car and the driver closes the door. My vision remains unfocused, but my ears are attuned to everything. Alessandro’s heavy breathing is loud in the quiet of the enclosed vehicle.

  “How do you know Donnelly?” he rasps out with an angry edge to the question.

  “I don’t.” It comes out on a whisper.

  “He looked at you—touched you—like he knew who you were,” Alessandro argues. “What was that name he called you?”

  Aisling. Dream.

  I didn’t dare say it out loud. “I don’t know.”

  He doesn’t say anything further, but I can feel his eyes drilling into me. Assessing. Making his own assumptions about whether I’m lying. Not that it matters if I told the truth or not. He’ll believe whatever he wants to believe regardless.

  Alessandro snakes his arm out and digs his fingers into my wounded back, pushing my body forward so I’m bent at the waist. He leans close, his breath rancid and nearly making me gag. “Don’t forget who you belong to. You’re my wife. Bought and paid for. You know what happens when you displease me.”

  I whimper, as the pain becomes almost more than I can take. Just when I don’t think I can bear it any longer, he releases me. I remain with my chest to my knees and my trapped hands trembling in my lap. The tangy flavor of blood fills my mouth from biting my cheek to stop my scream.

  “If I were you, Aurora, I’d attempt to appease my anger,” Alessandro warns.

  Bile rises in my throat. I know what that means. I shut my eyes and take several deep breaths. A shudder runs down my spine. I better not take too long. Punishments are worse when I do. I close my mind to the present and allow my thoughts to drift to pleasant things. Jack’s face flashes before me, but I quickly lock that away. I won’t taint pictures of him with what I have to do.

  I turn and, with trembling hands, reach out to unbutton Alessandro’s pants under the meaty flesh of his belly. Once I’ve freed his flaccid cock from its confines, I bend and, with only the briefest hesitation, close my lips around it. Above me, he sighs in contentment.

  Up and down my head bobs. No matter how hard I suck or stroke him, he doesn’t get hard. He palms my head and pushes my face flush to his groin. The sour stench of his unwashed body fills my nose with every inhale. The smell and taste make me want to gag.

  I pray to a god I stopped believing in three years ago, begging that this once, I can do what I’m supposed to. Like always, my prayers go unanswered, and Alessandro remains soft. Sharp pain shoots through my head. He grabs my hair within his fist and yanks me up and away from him. A second pain follows, and my cheek heats from his palm connecting with it. I cry out.

  “You’re fucking useless,” he spits out, drops of his saliva dotting my face.

  He releases me with a jerk. My head and cheek are throbbing. He rarely hits me where it can leave a visible mark.

  “This is all your fault. If you knew how to suck a cock, maybe I’d get hard. But you can’t even do that. I don’t know why I bother to keep you around,” he says as he buttons his pants.

  My heart stops beating for a second before racing. What does he mean by that? “I’m sorry.” The apology falls from my lips by habit. Anything to placate him. “I’ll try to do better next time.”

  The ride to the manor house where Mr. and Mrs. Ricci have organized a celebration to introduce their son to the syndicate is far too long. Alessandro’s attention is on his phone while I sit silently, my mind replaying that mortifying scene with Jack over and over.

  His expression had been inscrutable. He hadn’t even blinked at Alessandro’s announcement. But he called you Aisling, that little voice says. He obviously remembered me. I’m not sure what to make of that. It doesn’t matter.

  Finally, we arrive and Alessandro turns to me. “Don’t forget what I said. You are my wife.”

  Chapter 6

  Jack

  * * *

  I stare at the doorway where the crowd has long since swallowed her up. Shock still reverberates through me.

  Aurora. At last. A name.

  On its heels is another. Alessandro Costa. Her husband. His hand had clutched her bicep. There had been possession in the gesture. I’d felt it radiating off him. Bits and pieces of the conversation she and I had on that balcony come back to me. This was the man she said didn’t look at her when she talked. As though she was no one important. That’s certainly not the impression I just got. He had the demeanor of a man claiming his woman. Or maybe his property.

  “What the hell, Jack? I’ve been calling you for five minutes,” Paddy complains.

  I drag my gaze away and turn to face my brother. “Sorry. I saw someone I knew.”

  He cranes his neck, looking over my shoulder, and glances back at me. “You’ve been distracted lately. What’s going on with you?”

  How do I respond to a question I’m not even sure I know the answer to? I’ve never been one to confide in my brothers, even though we care about each other. Nathan has always been so much younger, and Padraig, well, he’s a jokester. Doesn’t take anything seriously. I glance around the nearly empty sanctuary. Only a few small groups of people linger. I meet his eyes. For once, he’s studying me intently. Not like he’s waiting to make some flippant remark.

  “Do you ever wonder what we’re doing with our lives?” I ask quietly.

  Paddy blinks curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “Fuck.” I shake my head. “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. Never mind.”

  He puts a hand on my arm. “Jack. What’s going on?”

  My gaze flickers back to the doorway Aurora disappeared out of. “Do you remember Gio and Francesca’s wedding?”

  “Yeah. Why?” Paddy asks.

  “I met a woman there.”

  One of his grins creeps onto his face. “You sly bastard. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It wasn’t like that.” I shut him down.

  He actually sobers. I blow out a sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I saw her out in the garden during the reception. Followed her inside and onto the front balcony. I don’t know why. We talked a bit. Then she disappeared, and I haven’t seen her since.” I pause. “Until today.”

  Paddy pulls back in surprise, his eyes widening. “She was here?”

  I nod. “With her husband.”

  His mouth drops. “Whoa. Wait, was that the woman and old man you were talking to?”

  “Yes.”

  He pulls his lips back in a grimace. “Poor girl. Married to that old geezer. She didn’t look very happy.”

  No, she hadn’t. In fact, she looked like a completely different woman. She’d had none of the spirit she’d shown before. That woman—Aisling—had shoved her knee straight into my cock and balls for Christ’s sake. This new woman, this Aurora, had been meek. She didn’t exude any of the confidence she had three years ago. Where had that spark gone?

  “Who is she, exactly?” Paddy asks.

  “I don’t know. Considering she was at the wedding and here today, I’m going to guess she’s related to Emilio in some way. Her”—I have to pause even thinking the word—“husband said he isn’t.”

  “Maybe Brenna or Francesca knows.”

  “It doesn’t really matter who she is.” Because she’s married. Off-limits. I give myself a mental shake, and change the topic. “Are you sure you want to go to the reception?”

  Paddy cocks an eyebrow and a sly grin lights up his expression. “Do you have better plans?”

  I didn’t, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to risk running into Aisl—Aurora—again. Or that husband of hers. Something about him put me on edge. Plus, seeing that she’s no longer available, it’s best to avoid her all together. Whatever connection I thought we had needed to be severed.

  “I’m sure we can come up with something,” I say, forcing a mischievous smile.

  “Are you guys coming or not?” Nathan calls out from the entryway. “Mother wanted me to remind you that you promised not to bail early from another christening reception like you did Saoirse’s.”

  “Feck,” Paddy curses under his breath.

  I glance at him. “I guess we should have left sooner.”

  Nathan ended up riding over with Caitlín, so it’s just Paddy and me. We pull up to a familiar white manor house, its colonnades a shade less bright. The half-circle paved drive that slices through the sprawling lawn is lined with cars. I park behind a Tesla at the tail end closest to the main road. Formerly Kelly-green grass has changed to a dying brown color, and the large, stone fountain stationed in the middle of it lies dormant and empty.

  My gaze drifts upward to the balcony on the far right. The French doors are closed against the cold of the upcoming winter. The last time I’d stood up there they’d been open, the breeze blowing into the room behind them, gently stirring the sheets that covered the furniture and brought with it the faint scent of lemons from the woman who stood beside me.

  “You’re distracted again,” Paddy says, nudging my arm with his. “Are you thinking of her?”

  I shouldn’t be. But I can’t get Aurora out of my head. The way she appeared. She wouldn’t even look my way. “I just remember her differently, that’s all.”

  “Don’t forget we have a code.” His tone is serious. Something he rarely is.

  “You’re the one who fucks anything that walks,” I bite out, knowing exactly what ‘code’ he’s referring to. I’m offended he thinks I’d break it.

  “Not if it has a ring on its finger, I don’t.”

  I glare at him. “There’s no need to remind me we don’t pursue married women, for Christ’s sake. I don’t plan on sleeping with her.”