Chapter 30
“Are you… is this some kind of sick joke?” I ask Luk.
His face is serious, the look in his eyes grave. “No. It’s no joke,” he responds, his voice steady, quiet.
I have no choice but to believe him. He places his hands on my shoulders, a gesture both comforting and grounding. “What are you feeling?” he asks, his concern for my reaction clear. “Talk to me.”
I’m torn, a whirlwind of emotions battling inside me. “I-I can’t believe it,” I finally manage to say. Suddenly, the reality of our life, of my life, the wife of a Bratva leader, settles in more than ever before. The world we occupy is complex and often brutal, and decisions like the one Luk has made are part of the fabric of our existence.
I look up at him, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for being honest with me,” I say, and I mean it. Honesty has always been our foundation, the thing that’s kept us strong amidst all the chaos. To my own surprise, there’s a small, hidden part of me that feels tremendous relief, justice coming full circle.
“I’m surprised by how relieved I feel, actually,” I admit, the words feeling strange even as I say them.
Luk’s eyes search mine, looking for any sign of doubt or fear. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he says, his voice gentle. “Please know that I didn’t make this decision lightly.”
“I know you didn’t,” I reply, feeling a renewed sense of partnership between us. “And I’m grateful for that. It’s just a lot to process.”
“Let’s just focus on the future now,” Luk says, wrapping his arms around me. “On us, on our baby. That’s what truly matters.”
“There’s something I need to tell you, too,” I admit hesitantly, drawing his full attention. Luk nods, his expression softening, signaling that he’s all ears.
“It’s about my father’s estate,” I continue, gathering my thoughts. In the meantime, I’ve named a close family friend as the executor. His name is Liam Gallagher, and he was like an uncle to me growing up. He’s recently come back after being away for many years.”
Luk’s interest is piqued, a slight furrow forming between his brows. “Liam Gallagher? I remember the name. Where has he been?”
I take a deep breath. The next part is harder to explain: “It turns out Sharon had driven him away from the family through blackmail. She threatened him to ensure he wouldn’t interfere with her deceitful plans.” The bitterness in my voice surprises even me.
“So he’s back now? To help manage the Flanagan legacy?”
“Yes,” I confirm, feeling a flicker of hope. “He came back when Sharon went to jail. With Liam overseeing things, the Flanagan legacy will be preserved. Our neighborhoods will stay safe and continue to flourish, just like before.” It’s a piece of good news amidst the turmoil, a sign that not all is lost.
“And the other Irish families?” Luk asks, his strategic mind always looking at the bigger picture.
“They know to keep their distance now,” I assure him, a sense of statement creeping into my voice. ‘Especially with the alliance between the Flanagans and the Bratva. It’s a clear message that we’re united, stronger together.’
Luk nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “That’s good to hear. It sounds like you’ve got everything under control.”
I laugh softly. “Yeah, with your help. But it’s definitely a great start.’
Luk’s gaze softens, a silent question hanging in the air between us. “Do you want to continue to tell me about the baby now?” he asks gently.
I smile warmly as I say, “Our son is healthy, and he’s growing as he should be, steady and strong, just like his father.”
Tears form in Luk’s eyes, a quiet expression of elation and pride. He leans in, planting a soft kiss on my forehead before picking me up and spinning me around. I laugh joyously as he exclaims, “We’re going to have a son! I love you, Maura; I love you so much. Never forget that everything I do is for you and our baby boy.”
The sincerity in his words wraps around me like a warm safety blanket. “I know that. And I love you, too,” I tell him. We stand in front of the fire, holding one another. The flames dancing and crackling in the hearth are a soothing presence.
Despite the horror of recent events and the shock of learning about Sharon’s death, I find myself accepting the complexities of our lives entangled with the Bratva. I’m feeling good—good about being married to a man like Luk—a man whose love and loyalty know no bounds, who would, and does, go to any lengths to protect the ones he loves.
As I step out of the car and into the sunshine of Bridgeport the following morning, I can’t help but smile. It’s like stepping back into a chapter of my life that I thought I had closed forever, but I’m glad I didn’t. The neighborhood is buzzing, alive with the familiar hustle and bustle that I grew up with.
There’s a new energy in the air, a sense of renewal and hope that’s been absent for too long. It’s clear Liam’s been busy since taking the reins of the Flanagan family, and his efforts to revitalize our community are already bearing fruit.
I take a moment to breathe it all in—the sights, the sounds, the very essence of home. It’s comforting and grounding and reminds me of simpler times before life became so complicated. But in my moment of reflection, something feels off. As I wander the streets of my childhood, I can’t shake the sensation that I’m not alone.
I glance around, trying to spot the source of my unease, but nothing seems out of place. My bodyguards are discreetly following me, and knowing they’re there should ease my mind, but the feeling of being watched persists, nagging at the edges of my consciousness.
I quicken my pace slightly, trying to dismiss the creeping sense of paranoia. Maybe it’s just the aftermath of everything that’s happened; my senses are still on high alert. Or perhaps it’s a reminder that in our world, being cautious is always a necessity, not a choice.
Despite the unsettling feeling, I push forward, determined not to let it dampen my spirits. Bridgeport, with all its flaws and beauty, is a part of who I am. And as I walk the streets, surrounded by the echoes of my past and the promise of a brighter future, I’m reminded of just how far I’ve come.
The neighborhood, now under Liam’s care, is slowly but surely reclaiming its identity, its strength. And I, alongside Luk, am building something new, something beautiful. The thought brings a smile to my face, a sense of pride and belonging that overshadows any fear or doubt.
Slipping into St. Brigid’s Church, the familiar scent of incense and polished wood greets me. Father McCarry spots me from across the nave, his face lighting up with a warm, welcoming smile.
“Maura! It’s so good to see you back and in good health,” he exclaims as he makes his way over, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious church. “And I hear congratulations are in order? You’re expecting a little one, yes?” His eyes twinkle with genuine joy, and I can’t help but return his smile.
“Thank you, Father. You’ve heard correctly, and we’re very excited,” I reply, my hand instinctively moving to rest on my belly. But beneath the pleasantries, an underlying tension remains. Something about being in the church—perhaps the peacefulness of it, the sense of shelter it provides—makes me want to open up, to seek counsel.
“Father, could we speak alone?” I ask quietly.
“Of course, Maura. Let’s step into my office for some privacy,” he suggests, leading the way.
Once seated, I gather my courage, taking a deep breath before diving into what’s been weighing on my heart. “Father, there’s something I’ve been struggling with about my relationship with Luk,” I start, my voice a bit shaky.
“Yes?”
“You’re aware of the life he leads as it’s much like the life many around here do,” I begin.
Father McCarry nods, his hands steepling under his chin. “I think I know where this is going,” he states.
“Yes, I suppose you do,” I reply.
Before I can go any further, Father McCarry continues. “Maura, I can’t say that I agree with the way some…” he pauses, “…businessmen approach their dealings, but I can say that if you are truly repentant, you can be forgiven.”
I feel almost instant relief as I know Luk’s decisions are not made without careful thought and never without regard for how they will affect the people around them.
“And what does it say of me to love a man who sometimes has to make those difficult choices?” I ask for my own sake.
Father McCarry sits back and smiles. “Maura, I’ve known you since you were born. I baptized you myself. I know your heart is a good one. I also know that you are not responsible for your husband’s decisions any more than you were responsible for your father’s. You, my dear, are your own woman, and the love you give to others is a reflection of the love God gives to you. Do not be troubled.”
His words lift a weight off my shoulders, a burden I hadn’t fully realized I was carrying until that moment. The guilt and uncertainty fade away, replaced by a newfound confidence in the love Luk and I share.
“Thank you, Father,” I say, my voice filled with gratitude. “You’ve given me a much-needed sense of peace.”
He offers a gentle nod, reaffirming his role as a guide and confidante: “I’m always here to help, Maura. Remember, love is the greatest commandment of all.”
As I step out of the church, my personal security squad is there, as always, giving me the nod that it’s time to roll out. As we head to the car, though, that weird prickle on the back of my neck returns—like someone’s watching me.
I sneak a peek over my shoulder, but again, there’s nothing but the regular Bridgeport buzz.
I try to shake off the heebie-jeebies, reminding myself I’m about as safe as it gets with my crew around. Besides, after speaking with Father McCarry, I’m feeling pretty invincible.
I hop into the car, and one of the guards shuts the door, a solid, secure sound. That feeling of being watched is still there, but it’s taken a back seat to the excitement of getting home to Luk.