30

This motherfucker. It is a big fucking deal, I snapped. I bet you do own a few. I bet they all would love to sleep with the owner.
What ? What the fuck did he tell you ? In response, he pointed to Liam, who ran his hands over his face in frustration.
My eyes went wide at his words. So he did sleep with the dancers. His reaction confirmed my suspicions. Rage like nothing I’ve ever felt before wrapped around me like rope, tightening, constricting, and I exploded, ripping through it as I swore a line in Italian.
He didn’t tell me anything, but you’re going to tell me right now. So go on, tell me !
This is bullshit, Elena. They were before we got married.
My nails were digging into my arms from the irrational emotions he was invoking from me. His excuses were invalid, and every word from those sinfully addictive lips did nothing to calm me down. I was beyond consoling. I was fuming and too livid to rationalize my thoughts.
Tito was before we got married, and you shot him. I liked Marcello, and you shot him, too. So don’t play that card. Try again ! I shouted.
You want a number ? He asked, and it really was the stupidest question he could ask me.
Now it’s a number ?! I screamed, throwing my hands up in frustration.
Sei l’uomo piu stupido che abbia camminato su questa terra. Un idiota. Un bastardo. No. Un fottuto bastardo. I swore, my Italian coming once more in my anger.
(Translation : You are the dumbest man who ever walked this earth. An idiot. A bastard. No. A fucking bastard.)
I was so angry I wanted to kill them both. I left the kitchen, and when he tried to grab my elbow, I gave him a withering look that had him dropping it quickly. I stomped upstairs, walked into my room, and slammed it shut.
Pacing around my room while muttering and huffing, the realization donned on me. I stopped dead in my tracks, and it felt like a shit ton of bricks fell on me. I was jealous. Goddamn it. Of course, I was fucking jealous.
It was an awful experience and felt like toxic pooling in the pit of my gut. I knew he had slept with other women before me, but we never spoke about that. It wasn’t because it was off-topic but because I didn’t want to know that there were other women out there that knew how Oisin kissed.
That they knew what he tasted like or how it felt to have him buried deep inside them that they didn’t know where they started and where he ended. I didn’t want to know how many or who he slept with.
I especially didn’t want him returning to the places filled with said women he slept with. What the hell ? Why wasn’t he just straight up with me ? I wouldn’t have reacted so…theatrically.
You’re a shit liar, Elena, and you fucking know it.
I don’t know. I was angry and jealous and disappointed, mostly in myself for being so dramatic like this. I’ve never been jealous before. Granted, I was never in a relationship before, but indeed this murderous emotion that I was feeling wasn’t normal.
I didn’t feel normal or sane. I felt like an idiot like he lied to me about something, but I know he didn’t. I knew he was heading there for work because he had to, not because he wanted to, which was rational.
See, that’s the thing with rage and jealousy. Rational and sense don’t play roles. They’re not even in sight or the back of my mind, and the only thing I had was a raw, powered-up ball of pure and utter anger for my husband.
My nails dug into my wrists as I went back to pacing while trying to figure out how to resolve this. He was in the wrong-a thousand percent. I eyed his wallet on my counter when he gave it to me a few weeks ago.
I grabbed it ; not only was it full of cash, but there were tons of bank cards. He said they were under my name, and I could spend it all if I wanted to.
Would it be stupidly childish of me to go and spend his cash to make myself feel better ? Or would it be the best therapy ever ?
Obviously, this wasn’t the healthy choice, yet I was already shoving it into my purse before changing out of my comfortable pajamas and into something deadlier.
Oh, I was going to make him pay for making me jealous and angry when I didn’t have to be.
Fifteen minutes later, I was strapped in perfect armor, which consisted of black leather pants, tall red heels, and a backless-sleeved crop top to truly make Oisin regret every decision he’s made in his life, including the ones he made before meeting me.
I added another bold coat of red lipstick and grabbed my shades from the drawer before heading downstairs. Oisin, hearing my heels click on the floor, came out of the kitchen and ran over to me.
Where are you going ?
Shopping. Do you remember what you said when you gave me your wallet ? I asked, and cocked my hand on my hip.
Go buy a fucking boat if you want. All of my accounts are under your name as well. My money is your money. Spend it all for all I fucking care.
Or were those just more lies that you told me ?
His jaw clenched. I could see he wasn’t happy with what I was wearing, but I wasn’t looking for his approval, especially when I was this fucking livid.
I’m going shopping, but don’t you worry about your wife. I sneered. His nose flared, and his hands formed into tight fists from the venom in my voice. I bet all your little dancers would love to keep you company.
Elena, please, let’s just talk this out. I didn’t lie to you. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out an angry puff of air when I didn’t respond. Baby, come on, please. This is stupid.
It’s stupid ? You are a goddamn hypocrite, and I’m not engaging in conversation with you. I’m leaving. Have fun. I know I will.
I waved him off and headed outside. Connor and Danny walked me outside toward the driveway. Oisin ran after me and shouted some commands in Irish, and the men nodded their heads before opening the car door for me.
The men were still speaking to him outside, and I waited impatiently in the car for them to hurry up. I hadn’t left this house since I was forced into it. I needed to get out of it, even for a few hours, before I lost my mind.
Oisin came to my side of the car and tapped on the window, but I ignored him and faced the other side. The car turned on, and then the window rolled down, but I didn’t turn to look at him.
Be good, mo ghra amhain. He said like every time he did whenever he departed from me, but I was too emotional to deal with the sweet words he always gave me.
With a sigh, he pulled away, the window closed, and then we drove away. I’ve never felt so hormonal like this in my life. Yes, I get mood swings during my period. It was normal. Yes, sometimes I cry over spilled milk.
I mean, who hasn’t ? Sometimes I cry when I watch romance movies because I know no one would ever love someone so much that they can’t live without the other person, that they’d die without them. It’s not real.
Despite his obsession, his maddening addiction to me, Oisin didn’t love me. When you’re obsessed with someone, when you stalk and gather information, all you do is form an idea of who that person is.
He probably had expectations, and once he realized I didn’t fit them, he’d toss me to the side and find someone else to obsess over. I was small right now, someone that caught his eye temporarily, and maybe when he was finished with me, he’d marry one of his dancers from his clubs.
From his stupid, ridiculous clubs. I wanted to kill every single woman he’s ever been with. I wanted to rip her apart limb by limb and burn her to the fucking ground. This was madness.
I felt like someone should have had me admitted to a mental hospital straight away for thinking thoughts as horrible as these. I didn’t want to be upset and cry, so maybe staying angry and murderous was the only way to keep other emotions at bay.
Emotions that were even more terrifying than murder and insanity. My revenge plan of shopping and spending all his money wasn’t fun. I was depressed the entire time. Well, that and Danny and Connor were not fun at all to go shopping with.
They just stood there. I walked through the shopping mall they took me to three times, and with each trip, we took around the mall, the shopping bags increased in their hands. I didn’t even know what I was buying.
I just kept swiping the card in my hand and then walking away so they could take the bags. Finally, when the bags and boxes got too many, we stepped out so they could place them in the car before I asked them to take me to a different mall.
So they did, silently, and I sat in the back seat, sulking the entire ride there.
Maybe we can just head back home, I told them once they parked the car.
Of course, Mrs. Callahan, Connor said.
Then something pierced through the car window, shattering the glass, and went right through Connor’s head. I screamed when his head fell forward and hit the car’s steering wheel. My screams were blurred with the sound of the horn honking.
Get down ! Get down ! Danny screamed right before another bullet pierced his temple.
I screamed even louder, my hands shaking as I saw the life leave his eyes. I didn’t even have a phone to call anybody, and all I could do was curl up into a ball and pray that whoever it was would disappear.
A shoot-out was happening outside, and more people were screaming and yelling. I could hear the other Irish men that followed us screaming, then Italian commands, and I knew it had to be Enzo’s men.
I reached for Danny’s pocket, and my hands rattled so hard it took me longer to grab his phone. I wiped the blood off the screen and looked through his contacts. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely scroll through his contact list.
Finally, I clicked on Oisin’s number and flinched when sounds of broken glass shattering outside.