Silence.
Without another word, I turn and exit the locker, heading for my office.
“That was quick,” Mac muses, pushing himself up off the wall of the hallway outside to follow me.
“A traitor’s a traitor. I don’t need to listen to their lying tongues trying to persuade me otherwise.”
Seriously? He was trying to blame Alex.I should kill him again. My hand balls into a fist. Alex—or Alexei Ryan—is an easy target, having spent the last several years undercover with the Bratva. Even though Alex is half Russian, he had an Irish upbringing. Our father took him in after the death of his mother, raising him alongside us. He is one of us, an O’Rourke all the same. I trust him just as much as I trust Aidan, Liam, or Mac.
Loyalty and trust, they’re everything. I need to know that the men following my orders have my back, without hesitation and without question.
And right now, I don’t.
I can feel the cracks in the ranks. The man I’d just killed, a lowly soldier, hadn’t been with the Irish long. Only a few months. I know he’s not the one I’m looking for.
Too much shit has gone wrong to be bad luck. Someone high in the Irish has been leaking information. Likely to the Russians, if I had to wager a guess.
My brothers know it too. We all knew something wasn’t right with how our father died. He shouldn’t have even been there on that street, at that time of day,alone.
Someone set him up.
I am sure of it.
And that someone is after me, too. I’m fairly young, if you consider twenty-seven young. And there are those amid the Irish who think I might be a littletooyoung to take over as head of the family, despite being groomed for it my entire life. A few clan leaders within the city have yet to bend the knee. I’ve been patient, but doubt is like a disease, and if I’m not careful, if Idon’t get a handle on the dissent soon, I’ll be the next one with a bullet in my skull.
“The clan leaders aren’t happy. They feel like you’re excluding them from your plans,” Mac warns.
They’re right, Iamexcluding them from my plans. Since I don’t know who I can trust, I've been keeping my circle small.
The Russians and Italians are testing me, seeing what they can get away with, how they can take advantage.
It ends now.
Loyalty is non-negotiable, and mercy is for the dead.
“Aidan, did you get a location on Carroza’s warehouse?”
“Yes, you still want to do this?”
I meant what I said the other night… “Let’s go fuck some shit up.”
13
THE DARKSIDE OF BOSTON
BRIAR
Now
I’m hours early for my dancing shift tonight, but Lily took Remi to the playground after dinner, and even though I got through getting thrust onto the stage last night, I would feel a lot better if I had the chance to practice before tonight’s performance.
There are a few cars in the parking lot already, probably the cleaning crew and maybe some bar or kitchen staff doing prep.
Finding the back door unlocked, I walk slowly down the long, darkened hallway that leads to the dressing rooms. The quiet here feels unnatural. It’s weird being here during the day, while the sun’s still up. Wonderland feels like the type of place that can only exist in the dark. There’s no music, no shouts from the bar or kitchens, no half-naked girls racing up and down the hall to change outfits.
I’m not alone; I can hear the faint cadence of male voices coming from further down the hall.
Since the club floor is deserted, I realize it’s a lot bigger than I thought. With the stage lights off, the room is lit solely by the red up-lighting along the walls. The main stage is the focus of theroom, but scattered around the outskirts of the floor are smaller stages. Round platforms with their own poles and plush stools pushed in close.
