He grunts, staggers, then slams a fist into my stomach. Pain explodes through me, but I barely feel it over the rage.
“We should’ve never trusted you Russian pieces of shit,” I snarl, grabbing his jacket as the night ignites around us.
“The media,” Kian snaps, and every man freezes.
We all step back at once as a news van screeches to a stop by the barricades. Cameras swing toward the flames like vultures catching the scent of something dying.
“This isn’t over, Callaghan.” Rurik’s voice drops to a low whisper as he yanks Stepan toward their jeep. “I want our guns.”
Then they’re gone, into the dark jeeps, engines roaring as they pull away.
A second later, another vehicle arrives.
John Flanaghan.
Doyle.
Christian Keeffe.
Of course.
“What the hell happened?” Christian demands, pointing at the fire, disbelief twisting his face.
“Someone knew the guns were here,” I growl. “They didn’t rob it. They blew the whole fucking thing up.”
Flanaghan laughs.
A high, ugly sound that pisses me off instantly.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” he spits. “Probably the Russians themselves did it. Create chaos, make everyone dance.”
I stare him down, stepping right into his space. “Why the fuck would they blow up their own shipment?”
He backs up a half step.
Just a half.
Enough to show me he didn’t expect the question.
“Because now they have a reason to come afterus,” he hisses. “To kill us all.”
“He didn’t need a fucking reason,” I roar, slamming my fist onto the nearest SUV. The hood dents inward with a metallic crunch. Christian flinches. Doyle’s eyes widen. John swallows.
“They’re the Russian mafia,” I continue through clenched teeth. “That alone is reason enough.”
The flames reflect in the metal, in the puddles, in our eyes.
Middle of the goddamn afternoon, like someone planned this knowing it would be loud, dramatic, visible.
They wanted the Bratva to see it burn.
They wanted a war, and they wantedusto take the blame.
Back at the mansion, night has already swallowed the sky. We spent hours at the warehouse, trying to drag truth out of ashes, but no one saw a damn thing. The cameras were cut. The security guards who were stationed there vanished like smoke.
Someone is pulling strings, and the more I think about it, the more I feel it in my bones it’s him, but then another thought hits like a punch:
The Keeffes. Are they involved? Did those two eejits team up with Flanaghan to take us down?
