I felt for Vanessa while she opened up to me about her family before her mother showed up at my hotel door. She took the time to tell me about her grandmother and how close they were. I get it. What she went through affected her deeply. It’s her story, so if it means something to her, it also does to me.

But.

Yes, there’s a ‘but’ coming.

I have zero regrets for calling Vanessa out about her mommy issues. Her mother was away a lot, and left some of the child-minding responsibilities to her father, who was around the home full time. It’s not my place to judge, but fuck, does she realize how bad others had it? Vanessa was and still is surrounded by people who love her. She wasn’t raised by an addict or someone with psychological issues. She wasn’t physically or verbally abused. She wasn’t sold into the child sex trade or left to fend for herself. She didn’t grow up with a target on her back.

And does she have a clue what kind of realities she’ll face when she meets my parents? Or my father, a real-life mob boss? Sure, during my childhood they played ultra-traditional roles. Mom was the homemaker, and Dad was the breadwinner who laid down the law. But that’s where the tradition ended. I should tell her how it was for me. I was taught how to use and maintain a firearm before I turned eight. I saw how Dad’s men swept a room for listening devices before every conversation. We had more guns and ammunition in my basement than an NRA chapter and probably more than the armory of some small countries. And there were times I’d walk into a room literally filled with brown bags containing stacks of cash, mostly from illegal gambling, before it was stashed behind fake walls or laundered through any one of my relatives’ legitimate-looking businesses. I won’t even get into the physical violence I witnessed when my father had to discipline his men.

Perspective.

That’s something I can give to this woman, but I keep it to myself because my gut tells me she’s about to get a sneak peek of it tonight.

After the quietest two-hour car ride in history, we arrive at my uncle’s house on Staten Island. I’m not too surprised to find my father’s Cadillac ATS-V parked in the driveway. They’re brothers in a close-knit family.

“Let me do all the talking to start,” I tell Vanessa. “My father’s here, and that means my mother probably is too.”

Craig opens the front door and waves us inside. “Good night, kids. Want to tell me why you’re here so late?”

“There’s been a… development.”

“Let’s have this conversation in the back. Come on in. Vanessa, how are you? Have you met Liam’s parents?”

“Not yet. Mr. O’Sullivan.”

“Please, it’s Craig. Keller’s in the study, but come with me.” He leads us to the kitchen. “Iona, this is Vanessa.”

“Oh! From the papers! Look at you. You’re even prettier in person.” Wiping her hands on her apron, my mother leaves her spot at the stove—God knows what she’s cooking at this time of night—and pulls Vanessa in for a tight hug. “It’s good to finally meet you!”

“Hi Ma,” I greet her while they’re still in an embrace.

Ma rolls her eyes at me as she pulls away, but lifts a hand to my face and cups my cheek. “I’m not happy that you didn’t bring your girl to meet me. I have to see you two in the papers like I’m some stranger.” She hums and haws, but it’s all for show. She’s glad that we’re here.

Craig motions for us to go to the study while Vanessa and my mother are getting to know each other.

“Hey Pops,” I say to my father, who’s seated in an armchair close to the door.

“How have you been, kid?” he asks, although I just saw both my parents less than two weeks ago.

“Good.”

Craig takes a seat, inviting me to do the same. “What’s going on?”

I spend a few minutes relaying the same high points that Vanessa shared with me. The thing is, my heated reaction to Vanessa earlier is worlds apart from his lukewarm frown. Craig and my father exchange a look.

“What did I tell you? I knew they’d figure it out,” my father mutters to his brother. “You can’t slip anything past lawyers or accountants.”

I look back and forth between them. “You knew. What were the two of you up to?”

Craig leans forward, lowering his head to his hands. “It’s a long, complicated story, but in a nutshell, I know all about the eighteen locations where the Wainwright owners got a little creative with the valuations.”

I don’t fucking believe this. “You know you were being screwed?”

“No. Pelham and I are on the same side. We have a back-pocket licensing arrangement. I won’t get into specifics, but they involve four facilities in Vegas and eight online sites. Look, the less you and your girlfriend know, the better. Just let Diane know that I don’t have a problem with the current valuations. I’m eager to sign.”

A side deal in Vegas can only mean Craig is up to some form of illegal gambling or a gray area. Plus, Pops knows about it too. Craig’s right. I don’t know what they’re up to, and I don’t want to know.

“We need to get going,” I announce, making my way out to find Vanessa. At the last moment, I turn around to add, “Find yourself a new firm to represent you. I won’t mention this to Vanessa or Diane, but I also won’t let you implicate their law firm in whatever scheme you’re up to.”

* * *

Vanessa looks over at me from the passenger seat as I drive through the Staten Island suburbs toward the highway. “That was fast. What did he say?”

“On Monday, O’Sullivan Entertainment will be parting ways with your law firm.”

“What? Why?” she demands.

“No, it’s not like that. Craig’s not firing you. You’re protecting yourself by distancing yourself from him. It’s for the best.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Your mother will.”

She stares forward again, shaking her head. “Do you realize how patronizing you sound right now?” I’m sure she has more to say, but a text buzzes through on her phone that’s sitting in the cup holder. She ignores it at first. As soon as the buzzing stops, it rings with a phone call. “Hang on a second. It’s my brother. What’s up, Dylan?” she answers. “I have you on speaker. I’m with Liam.”

“Hey there, you two. What’s shaking?” Dylan asks, his tone more upbeat than I’ve heard in a while.

“Not much. Did you talk to Mom?”

“No. Something wrong? Emily was getting a little worried. Where are you?”

“On our way back to the reception. We needed to take care of some business.”

“Okay, no problem. I’ll let her know.”

“How’s the party going?”

“Pretty good. By the way, Emily and I set a date. October seventh.”

“That’s great! Congrats. This year or next?”

“In less than four months. Anyway, we’ll talk some more after this weekend’s up. Wait a second. Mom’s here. She wants to talk to you. Hold on.”

“Vanessa?” Mom calls my name in a question.

“Hi Diane. Liam’s on speaker.”

“Great. Did you talk to Craig?”

“Liam did.”

“Does he know how he’d like to proceed?”

“Yes. He wants to continue with the acquisition. Diane, I suggested to Vanessa that it’ll be best if Craig finds a new law firm to complete the rest of this deal.”

“Is there a reason for your recommendation?”

“Because it’s possible that Marty Pelham and Craig have jointly acted in bad faith against your firm.”

“I see. Thanks for passing this information along. I’ll have my assistant provide a few referrals with the paperwork.”

“Great.”

“Enjoy the rest of your nights.”

“That went smoothly,” Vanessa says absently to herself after hanging up.

“It did.”

“And Emily’s really going through with the wedding. Good for them.” Then she turns to look at me. “What was I saying? Oh, right. You were patronizing me.”

“I don’t mean to. Let me put it another way. You’re an attorney, an officer of the court. It’s better if you don’t have to wade through an ethical dilemma, all because you got wind of facts you shouldn’t know about in the first place. Just trust me on this one.”

“Are you saying you and your family are still—”

“Me, no. That’s what you need to understand. I’ve spent my entire adult life making my own way. I love my parents. But don’t mistake love for blind loyalty. There’s a reason I built the business incubator from the ground up. I started with nothing, and what’s more important is I didn’t accept a penny of financial help from my father. That’s because what they say about the life is true. Once you’re in, you can never fucking leave.”

“I think I understand now. Thanks for explaining.”

“Diane’s up to speed too, so the worst is behind us. Don’t worry about Craig. He’ll figure things out.”

“All right. I’m sorry about earlier, for letting you down.”

“You didn’t. We talked, we disagreed, but you still made it out here. Tell me something. Do you have anything you’d like to say to Diane?”

Vanessa faces forward again. “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. I’m not sure if my relationship with her can change overnight…I understand where you’re going with this, okay? I can swallow my pride and put a little more faith in her professional judgment.”

“Good.”

She looks over at me with a more playful, relaxed expression. “But try not to push your luck, because I don’t like ‘Liam, the voice of reason’ all that much.”

I reach over and rest a hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze. “Give it time. You’ll get used to him.”

As we drive back to the Hamptons, I can picture how the day will be tomorrow. I’ll gaze at the front of the chapel as the love-dazed couple arrives at the altar. The bride will be stunning, but I won’t be able to stop staring at the dazzling bridesmaid in a dress that lights up her eyes. I told the world Vanessa was mine before she was ready to accept it for herself. Here we are less than a month later, and she’s stopped denying what’s right in front of her.

Silence will fall around the room and the priest will clear his throat and address the couple. I’ve been to a lot of weddings. It’s always the usual spiel, joining two people in marriage, two people becoming one and all those words I’ve tuned out many times before. Tomorrow, I’ll pay more attention because I have a good reason. One day not too far from now, I plan to be right where Jackson will be standing, and it’ll be with Vanessa at my side.