The fucking prideful prick.
“Didn’t you know, we fought the British with Washington,” Liam continued, glaring at his empty glass. His accent thickened as he waxed on about the glory of his family. “This is our town. Ours. And yet my father lets the Black Stags piss on our turf.”
The other Irish faction would lose. The don’s plan, which was actually brilliant, was to take care of the problem. Permanently. And then the McDonagh Mob would owe us. Whatever the favor Don Morelli planned to extract in payment was, I wasn’t sure.
But it would be worth it.
Our don was crafty, sly—an unstoppable force.
“I’ll speak to the don,” I placated and rose. Swiping my leather jacket from the bench, I shrugged it over my shoulders. “But I have somewhere to be.”
Lost in the trap of the past, Liam gave me a small nod as he continued to glare into the void. I stalked across the empty eatery, each step heavy with determination. I gripped the brass knob and ripped the door open. My patience was worn thin. The nostalgic fucker. Didn’t he know he had it in his power to use the present to shape the future? The past was nothing but misery and despair. It taunted mankind with the decisions we didn’t make and the choices we should have taken.
Stepping into the night, I shook off the gloom from the pub. The cool night air was stained with the sins of the city. Industry and progress were a ripe perfume. Steam rose from the grates, and the puddles were poisoned with oil.
None of that could kill the excitement coursing through my veins. In a few days, I would have the crown jewel safely in my possession. No empire was complete without something stunning at its center. Other achievements paled in comparison to this, but they’d been necessary to claim the gem.
My vengeance would be sated.
I drew in a deep breath, closed my eyes, and pictured it—Amanda’s father’s perfect little world broken.
His accomplishments crushed.
That backstabbing determination extinguished.
Did Archibald Loring deserve a fate worse than that? Undoubtedly. But it would be a sweet recompense to know his daughter was chained to my side for eternity.
Amanda was destined to be mine.
And when he’d tried to destroy me, Loring ruined the picture of a future we’d painted. Now I glued the shattered pieces together, and the twisted image was how our future would look. Still together, still inseparable, we were intertwined by fate.
We might not ever be the happy couple living in a fancy condo with three cats, two dogs, and a baby on the way. Even if I became a legitimate businessman someday, right now, in the present, my soul was damned and bound to the underworld.
I couldn’t wait any longer.
It was time I brought my queen home. If we built a future that somehow resembled our dreams, it would be a miracle. No matter how it looked, we had the chance to forge something out of the wreckage.
I straddled my bike, flexing my fingers over the sleek, matte black lines. A sixth sense stopped me from kicking the engine over. There was no one out here. Several vehicles crossed the intersection around the bend farther down the road.
There. In the alley. Footsteps tripping over the concrete.
Safe in the shadows, I lingered. In a metropolis, fed by corruption and violence, it wasn’t unusual for individuals to run amok at all hours of the day and night.
When three individuals emerged and darted across the street to The Galway Arms, I slid my gun from my shoulder holster at the same time I reached for my phone.
Me: Incoming. Three at the front.
Green Devil: I’ll check the back.
My gaze lifted from the phone just in time to see one of the demons break a window. I lurched forward, but the explosion bloomed in an aggressive display of oranges and reds. There was nothing I could do to stop the destruction.
A fiery bomb—the classic calling card between mobsters.
The three figures dashed away.
The organ in my chest thumped once. Twice. And then I lifted my gun, aimed, and fired.
Two of the fuckers dropped. The third dove into the alley, disappearing to safety.
