The Marriage Contract(4)
A deal between the Hallorans and the Sheridans would have sunk them. They held territory on either side of the O’Malleys, and he had no doubt that it wouldn’t take long for them to start eating away at the edges, with the aim of crushing Teague’s family and their business between them. The Boston underworld was a fat purse, but that kind of money only went so far when split three ways. Take out the largest competitor and… Yeah, he could see the reasoning behind Sheridan selling his daughter off to the Hallorans.
But, shit, everyone knew what a sadistic fuck Brendan was. His family didn’t draw the same lines the other two did, and he had no problem exploiting the human trafficking they dabbled in and creating his own little harem. Word had it that when Brendan played with those girls, most of the time he broke them beyond repair.
What kind of man would knowingly sentence his daughter to that?
And why the hell were his two older siblings bringing this information to him? He glanced between them. “It sounds like the girl dodged a bullet.”
“Most definitely.” Now apparently it was Aiden’s turn to talk. “She’s the heir to the Sheridan fortune—and all their territory—which means she’s going to be the most sought-after woman in Boston. The vultures will be circling by the end of the day.”
“Which is bullshit.”
Aiden glanced at Carrigan, his expression shuttered. “Which is bullshit, sure. But we’d be stupid to sit back and let someone else swoop in and snatch up this opportunity.”
Teague’s stomach twisted, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing on the train tracks and feeling the rumble of an incoming engine. “I’m not seeing what this shit has to do with me.”
“That’s the thing.” Aiden shifted. “If someone’s going to secure an alliance with the Sheridan family, why not one of us?”
The twisting in his stomach developed teeth, but he fought to keep his voice light. “Then I suppose I should congratulate you on your impending nuptials.”
“Actually, we’re here to congratulate you.” Aiden held up a hand. “Just hear me out. I can’t marry her. Our father already has a couple candidates in mind for me, and any of them would expand our territory exponentially.”
“Then what about Cillian? He’s old enough to play husband to the Sheridan girl.”
Carrigan shook her head. “That won’t work and you know it. The Sheridans might forgive our passing over Aiden and offering you, but it would be insulting to go to any of our younger siblings.”
Jesus Christ. Teague looked at the alcohol cabinet on the far wall. Surely it wasn’t too early to start drinking? Even as the thought crossed his mind, he pushed to his feet. It might be too early, but this wasn’t a conversation he was willing to have stone-cold sober. “No.”
“Don’t say no. You haven’t even heard us out.”
He didn’t have to. He knew what they would say. It’s your duty to your family. Father has given you excessive freedom to mess around with your interests. It’s time to repay all those favors you tallied up. He poured himself a splash of whiskey and then kept pouring until the glass was full. “Didn’t arranged marriages go the way of the dinosaurs a couple decades ago?”
“Maybe for other families. Not for ours.”
He knew that. Fuck, he wished he didn’t know it so well. The rules of polite society were different for his family than they were for your average Joe. He’d learned a long time ago that the money and connections came with more strings than a spider’s web. And walking away wasn’t an option, because that same money and those connections would be ruthlessly deployed to bring any prodigal sons or daughters back into the fold—whether they wanted to come or not.
Teague took a healthy swallow of the whiskey. “You can’t seriously be asking me to marry some woman I’ve never met from a family we were raised to hate.”
“I’m not.” Aiden paused, and it was like the whole room held its breath. “Father is.”
Just like that, the fight went out of him. He could argue his brother and sister to a standstill and even, occasionally, come out on top. Their father? His word was law, and he had no problem ruthlessly playing upon his children’s weak spots to get what he wanted. Teague had learned that the hard way when he was still young enough to believe that there was another life—another option—out there for him. “I need some time to think.”
“You don’t have much.”
Teague didn’t turn at the sound of the library door opening and closing, because he knew both siblings hadn’t left. “This is bullshit and you know it.”