He doesn’t say the word.
He doesn’t have to.
The Burn is coming.
I move, grip the cuffs chained to the floor and drag Flanagan forward. His knees scrape concrete.
“His family has already been removed from the country,” Declan announces, voice ringing off the rafters. “They are not to blame for John’s betrayal.”
A low growl of approval rolls through the crowd.
“So,” Declan continues, stepping aside, “following the rules John Flanagan loved to weaponise against the rest of us…” He shoves Flanagan into the dead centre of the stage.
“He dies by fire.”
Kaden walks out carrying the tyre. Gasps ripple. I let myself smile, slow and ugly, watching pure panic flood Flanagan’s eyes.
I take the tyre and force it down over his head and shoulders until it sits heavy around his chest like a black halo.
“You tried to kill me,” I whisper for only him to hear. “You knew who he was. You knew, and you did nothing.”
I step back.
Declan approaches with the jerry can. Petrol sloshes, thick and acrid, as he pours it into the hollow of the tyre, soaking shirt, skin, hair.
“You animals!” Flanagan finally breaks, thrashing against the chains bolted to the floor. “Just fucking shoot me, you cowards!”
I chuckle, dark and quiet. “Nah. You wanted me burned for breaking a rule. You broke the only one that matters.” I flick the Zippo open. Flame dances, small and hungry.
Declan turns to the room. “Flynn Brady will carry out the sentence in the name of the Irish Consortium.”
He leans in, barely a breath. “He’s all yours.”
I crouch, close enough to smell the petrol on Flanagan’s skin and the terror in his sweat.
“I told you,” I whisper, “my face would be the last thing you ever saw.”
I drop the lighter.
The tyre ignites with a soft whoomph. Blue flame races upward, hungry, licking his chin, his cheeks, his screaming mouth.
His shriek bounces off steel beams, raw and animal.
I straighten.
My gaze flicks to the back of the room.
Empty.
Autumn and Viviana are gone.
Good girl. She didn’t watch me smile while a man burned.
A single gunshot cracks, Declan’s mercy. The screaming stops mid-note. The body slumps, flames still chewing.
“It’s done,” I murmur.
Declan lowers the pistol. “Finally.”
