He didn’t come here with the intention of getting into a fight, but when this asshole sat down next to him at the bar, being loud and obnoxious as he complained about a couple of women on the dance floor rejecting him, it didn’t take long for an argument to start between them. Connor had never been the type to keep his own mouth shut, and telling the man to fuck off didn’t go over well.
Too bad for this guy that the nightclub was owned by the Irish mafia, and Connor happened to be a lieutenant within the organization. No one was going to step in while he got his ass kicked.
The man turned, his movements clumsy as he reached out for Connor, seemingly trying to put his hands around his neck. It was easy enough to avoid. Connor gripped his wrists, yanking the man forward as he brought his knee up into his stomach. His breath left him in a whoosh of air, and he fell to the floor.
Meeting the bouncer’s eyes, Connor nodded, letting him know it was time to kick the guy out. As he was heaved to his feet by strong arms, he attempted to protest.
“Hey, let me go. Why the hell should I be the only one thrown out? That son of bitch was a part of the fight.”
“Mr. Murray is the boss,” the bouncer said, dragging the man toward the door, the crowd parting for them.
Technically, Connor’s cousin, Owen, owned the club. As the head of the Irish mafia, his name was on the paperwork for all of the organization’s legitimate businesses. But Connor was here more often, making sure that things ran smoothly. Tonight, he was just looking to have a couple of drinks.
With the fight over, the crowd of people got back to enjoying themselves, surging around the bar for drinks and settling back into the seats nearby. When Connor turned back to the bar, he found a familiar face sitting on a stool where the asshole had been.
Declan was Owen’s brother, and the second-in-command in the organization. He’d ordered Connor another bourbon, since his fist one had been knocked over in the scuffle. Declan tossed back a shot of vodka as Connor settled onto his barstool again.
“I see you’re making friends,” Declan said with a smirk on his face as he placed the shot glass on the bar. The bartender swapped it out for an old fashioned, and Declan shoved a few bills into the tip jar.
“You know me,” Connor replied with a shrug. “I can’t resist putting an asshole in his place.”
“Well, keep that energy. We might need it soon.”
“You’re talking about the Italians?”
“Of course.” Declan muttered, taking a deeper drink from his glass. “There was another skirmish between some of our men on the streets and a small group of Italians earlier tonight.”
“Any casualties?”
Declan shook his head. “No, but it was on Bay Street.”
“Three blocks from the police station? Fucking Italians. They don’t use their heads do they?”
“I’m not sure they’re capable of it. Two of them were taken in.”
“Mancini’s going to flip over that,” Connor chuckled. The don of the Italian mafia was one heartless bastard and getting on the man’s bad side was ill-advised.
“Good. Maybe it’ll throw him off a bit. The bastard is relentless.”
Connor hated the man. He’d pulled some ridiculous stunts in the last few weeks, starting with stealing drug shipments from the Irish and escalating to abducting Owen’s girl, Ruby, just to hurt him. It was all in an attempt to steal control of the city from the Irish. The Italian mafia had always had a small area of the city that they claimed as their own territory, but Mancini wanted more. He was power hungry like that.
“You know what the key to ending this war will be, don’t you?” Declan asked.
“Taking Mancini out. His son, too, if we can manage it.”
“Exactly.”
But that was easier said than done. Mancini was a careful man, not easy to find most of the time. They could go directly to the house he called home, but he wasn’t nearly at stupid as his men had proven themselves to be. That place was as carefully guarded as Fort Knox.
A woman slid onto the stool on the other side of Declan, the plunging neckline of her dress leaving little to the imagination as she flashed a killer smile and batted her eyelashes at him. Declan didn’t hesitate to swivel on the stool and give her his full attention.
Connor chuckled to himself as his friend presented his back to him. Declan always had women falling all over him, and he was quick to take advantage of that. He went through casual relationships and hookups so quickly that Connor wasn’t sure how he kept them all straight in his head.
Or maybe he didn’t have to, since they didn’t stick around for long anyway.
Declan turned on the charm with the woman and by the time Connor finished his bourbon, the two of them were making plans to go back to Declan’s place, although the way they were eye-fucking each other suggested they might start ripping off their clothes in the parking lot.
Connor was left alone at the bar, which was fine with him. Declan was decent company, but he wasn’t feeling social tonight. He had a lot of responsibility carrying out his role in the mafia, and today was particularly stressful. Tensions were building in the city, and not just between the rival mafias. Civilians were picking up on the increased violence, meaning that the cops not on their payroll were on edge and the city politicians were feeling the pressure to do something. Sales of their product were suffering since people weren’t eager to get involved with organized crime right now, creating an opportunity for enterprising idiots to try to move in and fill the void.
