“Brilliant, Viking culture has always fascinated me. You Swedes were much more interesting when you were feral brutes. Everything is so civilized over there now,” Mac says as he takes his seat.
I glance at Gunnar. He shrugs. “You’re not wrong.”
Mac chuckles, raises his glass and catches his wife’s eye. She’s seated beside Killian and smiles warmly at him. “A toast to my lovely wife and her culinary prowess.” We raise our glasses. He turns to me. “And a toast to newbeginnings.”
He holds my gaze as we drink. My spine stiffens as I suddenly realize I’m looking at a seasoned killer who hides behind his charm. I have a feeling I’ll meet the Maco soon enough.
The conversation comes in awkward jerks and starts as we carefully get to know each other.
That is until the maid collects our dinner plates and replaces them with a slice of simple butter cake dusted with powdered sugar and dark roast coffee.
This is when Mac turns to his son, his demeanor hardening and says, “So, where is my long-lost daughter? She doesn’t want to meet me?”
Killian flicks his gaze toward me and then rests his inked forearms on the table, facing his father. “You’re going to have to give her some time, yah? It was a huge shock to her.”
Mary quietly stands and picks up her coffee cup. She makes eye contact with me. “When you boys are done with your business, come find me in the back garden.”
I nod, trying to read her expression, but she’s a closed book.
When Mary disappears around the corner, Killian sighs. “Lennon’s mother really drilled it into her all her life to fear our organization.”
Mac’s blue eyes glitter dangerously. “That doesn’t sound like my Angie. She was fearless. I still don’t know why she ran. I would’ve taken care of her and our daughter. They could’ve had the world.Instead she chose to work her fingers to the bone cleaning other people’s toilets. For fucking what?”
I watch Mac’s hand tremble as he stirs his coffee. I know that kind of rage. It’s the kind men like us don’t deal with until it's spewing hot lava over everything around us, burning it to the ground.
Keeping my tone non-confrontational, I say, “With all due respect, Mr. Donnelly, I think you’re underestimating the need for a mother bear to protect her cub.” I take a sip of the bitter coffee and set the cup back down. “How much do you know about how Angela passed?”
A wiry, gray brow rises as he meets my gaze. “She was shot, yeah? Walked into a robbery.”
I shake my head. “She was shot because she walked in on a Bratva soldier with a trafficked girl. He panicked.”
The man’s fist comes down hard on the table, rattling the dishes. I feel Gunnar stiffen beside me, but I know his anger won’t be pointed at us.
His breathing has picked up speed as he eyes me. “You know who this fucking Russian is?”
“Yes.” I hold his gaze. “A dead man.”
Killian chuckles across the table, but it’s dark and dangerous.
Mac’s teeth appear, but it's more of a snarl than a smile. “By your hand? I want details.”
By the time I’m done telling him the story of how Gunnar and I captured and tortured the Russian, his body has relaxed and there’s a new glimmer of respect in his eyes. “You did this at eighteen? Unsanctioned?”
“Yes.”
“You loved my daughter. Even then,” he whispers harshly.
It’s not a question, so I stay silent and let him probe my expression, find the answers he needs.
Finally, he leans back in his chair and seems to make a decision. “To be honest, I had no intention of letting aDagomarry my daughter.”
I shoot a glare at Killian.What the fuck?I should’ve known he’d be loyal to his father and forewarn him of my plan.
Mac continues, “But I owe you a debt. For avenging my love’s death.”
Love? Did he just say love?
I keep my expression neutral, hiding my surprise at his choice of words. I’d never heard a man in any mob family say he loved his mistress.
