“Seamus,” he gives me the name on a ragged breath. Hearing it I immediately straighten in my chair.
Long before the Italians had infiltrated New York and became known as the infamous mobsters who ruled the underworld it was the Irish.
They held their reign for a brief period of time but when they did they were feared and respected. All until the Sicilian outfit of the Italian mob wanted to expand to The United States of America. They fought the Irish, starting a war and ending with the Sicilian outfit reigning supreme.
Then, not much longer another war had begun. A bloody massacre of a new outfit of the Italian Mob. An outfit called The Costra Nostra. The outfit that The Donati Famiglia started with their bloodline.
Ever since this massacre The Costra Nostra has held the power and Constantine Donati sits upon the throne as thy king.
“Seamus,” I repeat the Irish Mob leader’s name to confirm.
He nods his head. “He wants revenge.”
“Revenge for?”
“For killing his only son, his heir.”
Seamus, the proud father of one son and one daughter. If I remember correctly his daughter is a year older than his son. Rightfully, the heir should still be intact with her. But because of old Irish Catholic traditions and archaic beliefs his daughter isn’t fit to be heir.
But because he's a loving father in his own right he still cares deeply for his daughter. He just won’t give her the title she rightfully deserves.
Another thing about me, I remember every face and name of all those I have killed.
And Niall surely made his father proud with how he kept his composure and strength until his end.
I knew one day Seamus would want revenge, another action motivated by emotion that I can’t comprehend. I just didn’t calculate how he would go about it. And this? Stealing our guns?
It’s incredibly stupid.
He had to have known we would’ve found out easily.
But perhaps that’s the point. In revenge one makes their face known if they’re arrogant.
This isn’t Seamus being incredibly stupid.
This is Seamus sending a warning.
He’s coming for us.
The Irish Warrior against The Devil of the East Coast.
“This is only the beginning, Rico,” Dougal tells me with a fond smile on his face. Even as he’s zip tied to a chair and withstood hours of torture he wears this grin upon his face that says he’s won.
The only thing Dougal has won is a quick death and nothing more.
“And there will be a quick end,” I say to him. He reads between the lines and expels another long breath.
“You don’t know Seamus. There is nothing that will stop him. He will finish his quest for revenge by taking the empire Constantine built and ending it with a bullet to his head.” Brave, incredibly brave but also incredibly so fucking stupid.
But there is one thing that will stop a man like Seamus. He may have a thirst for revenge and bloodlust to avenge his son’s death but I can stop those urges.
He’s a true Irish Catholic, a proud father, a family man.
He still has much to lose.
I tap the pad of my finger on my chin. Pretending to ponder I wonder aloud, “Seamus didn’t only have a son, did he? He also has a daughter.” Dougal’s eyes turn heated as he swallows thickly. “Ah, yes,” I then say with a smirk pulling my lips, “Imogen. The first born. How old is she now, Dougal? Old enough to suffer the consequences of being born with her father’s blood, is she not?”
Dougal stiffens in his chair. His jaw clenches as he seethes.
