Zahra’s eyes close, her body visibly shaking, and I feel compelled to comfort her. I’m halfway across the floor when she releases a deep breath and opens her eyes. “Azula and I will look into banquet halls in the city. A place where neither of us has any ties to.”
I take a step back, wanting to give her some space but also remain close enough in case she decides to take my unspoken offer of comfort. She doesn’t.
“I’m late for my next meeting. Azula will show you both out. You can let her know if you need anything else from me,” Zahra says tersely, sliding out through the back door of the gym before I can stop her. Before I can tell her I understand. Instead, I just stand there barely paying attention to Aidan and Azula exchanging niceties, wondering if the blood on my hands will ever disappear or continue to stain everyone around me.
7
ZAHRA
“Dammit, c’mon,” I groan, staring at the black screen of my laptop while another ‘ACCESS DENIED’ message pops up on the screen. I’d been at this for hours and somehow couldn’t crack through the security system on Declan’s phone. All the technology that belonged to the Persian Empire, as well as the Irish mob, had been specially designed by my father to ensure none of our enemies could hack into it. Anyone else’s firewalls, I would’ve been able to bypass in a matter of minutes, an hour tops. But my father’s code was very delicate. He had woven extensive threat detections into his code, and I knew that one wrong move from me would trigger an automatic deletion of any and all information stored in Declan’s phone. Given I needed that information to prove Declan had lied about being in Maine when our fathers were killed, I couldn’t risk losing it.
Which is why I had spent a majority of my day curled up in the dark, dungeon-like room where all our computers and servers were physically stored. Trying, and failing, to remotely connect to his phone and download all the files saved on it,including the geotracker that stored all the locations he had traveled in the past few years. The geotracker that updated every ten seconds and would indicate that he was in the same room as my father when he was killed.
His performance a few days ago in the gym was good, I’d give him that. From the look of emotional turmoil in his eyes to the way his body was slumped over, it was so easy to believe he was nothing more than a devoted son grieving his father. For a moment, he even had me fooled, but I knew better. Declan is a merciless, bloodthirsty, power-hungry killer. That much has been made clear over the past few weeks as I continued my weekly strategy meetings with Cyrus.
Though Azula is my second hand, Cyrus has decades of experience working with my father and his knowledge about all the dirty secrets each mob carried is endless. Secrets are powerful tools that can be used to your advantage or wielded like a lethal weapon against you. While my father had done his best to keep me in the loop about the ins and outs of the family business and provided general warnings to me about our biggest enemies, namely the Italians, Greeks, and British, he never got into the details. From the moment I took over as a boss, I wanted to know everything I possibly could about the men I would be working with, and the monsters I’d have to face. Cyrus was hesitant to help in the beginning, likely due to whatever paternalistic feelings he had toward me, but I had insisted he didn’t need to spare my feelings or shield me from the world. And so our meetings began.
Our first few conversations left me unmoved. Our enemies were practically foaming at the mouth to bring us down, and over the past decade, had made us bleed physically, through various bombings and shootings, and financially, setting a few of our shipment facilities on fire. They’d made a small dent in my Empire, but nothing warranted true concern. I would neverunderestimate my enemies, but their war tactics were par for the course.
It's what our allies are capable of that makes my stomach turn. Or, really, what Declan is capable of. It wasn’t his ability to kill men twice his size with his bare hands, or his expertise in torturing captives, that brought a chill down my spine. After all, when it came to torture, Azula’s methods would make the devil weep. It’s Declan’s treatment of the children and wives of his enemies that makes my skin crawl. I’m vehemently against any organizations associated with human trafficking, despite how lucrative the business is. Women and children are not people’s property, and I refuse to play any role in the various types of abuse that are associated with the skin trade.
My father felt the same, which is why many Made Men doubted he would ever reach the level of success that he did. As far as I knew, all the McAlister’s had worked alongside us to limit trafficking in the greater Boston area. All of the McAlister’s except for one. How Cyrus managed to obtain this information, I’m not sure. But he’d heard from an inside source working for the Irish that Declan was looking to expand into different types of business that his father would never approve of once he took over as boss.
My father had instructed Cyrus to gather more information before going to his best friend about his son’s betrayal. At first, Cyrus hit a dead end, believing that the families of Declan’s victims had simply fled the city and gone into hiding, but he eventually exposed the truth. He was on the way to alert my father of Declan’s betrayal when he heard gunshots coming from my father’s office. In some ways, I’m glad the truth was never revealed to Declan’s father. If the bullet didn’t kill him, I’m sure the news about his son would have.
“How you manage to stay in here longer than five minutes is beyond me.” Azula makes a disgustednoise as she enters the room. “There’s barely any room for a small child to fit in here, and it’s so cold I swear I can see my own breath.”
“The majority of our servers are in this room. Think of how hot your computer can be when you have like ten browser tabs open. Now imagine hundreds of computers in a room running all of our national and international operations. Without a proper cooling system, all of our technology would overheat, shut down, and we’d be screwed.” The thought causes a rush of anxiety to flood my chest.
“Wow, sometimes I forget what a nerd you are about these things.” Azula leans against one of our servers and I try not to outwardly cringe.
“Well, I did major and get my masters in Computer Science, so…” A perk of keeping my true identity hidden all these years was growing up and having a fairly normal life. That was what my father wanted for me. And something I would be eternally grateful for.
“Sometimes I forget you know a life beyond all this.”
“So do I.” The words come out like a soft sigh.
“I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Continue to live in this world where your life is always threatened and your morals are grey at best. Especially when you’ve had a taste of the normal world.” There’s no judgment in her voice. Just curiosity.
“One’s life is always fleeting, Azula. Even in the ‘normal’ world, no day is promised.”
“That’s true, but haven’t you ever wondered if you could do more?”
“All the time. But doing more doesn’t mean I have to abandon all I know. Abandon everyone I love.”
“Ah, so you’re one of those people who wants to have it all?” she snorts.
My eyebrows knit together. “Doesn’t everyone want that?”
Azula shakes her head, causing the pin-straight strands of her bob to sway. “Most people are content with what they have. But you, my darling, have never been content. You’ve always wanted more. Wanted better. Which is why I’m not sure whether this world is for you.”
I sit up in my chair, spine stiff. “Are you insinuating that I’m not fit as a boss?” I hissed. Of all the people to doubt me, I never figured Azula would be one of them. She knows how hard I’ve worked for this. How much it meant to me to be able to carry on my father’s legacy.
“Never, Zahra.Never,” she emphasizes. “You are more than capable of this position. I just don’t know if this…lifestyle is worthy of you.”
