“You never know. You hated my guts.” Declan leans into Viviana with a smirk that says it’s time for them to get a room.
My hands clench when I catch a guest leaning into Autumn. She smiles gently, uncomfortable. I could make him regret it.
“I’m not looking to chase her,” I tell Viviana, though my mind is already staging scene after scene of the ways I could.
“Hmm, hope not.” Viviana chirps, but Selma, her best friend, calls her away before I can reply.
“Thanks for that, fucking arsehole,” I mutter.
“Sorry, mate.” Declan sips his whisky. “It slipped.”
My spine stiffens when she bends to grab something from her bag.
Declan and I used to frequent a kink club in town when our parents were still alive. Back then, we only had to show up at Consortium meetings, not make decisions. We spent the rest of our time finding out what made us tick. Declan was into control and dominance. Me? I pushed further. Biting, scratching. Chasing until they laughed nervously, then throwing them to the floor and fucking them right there. Biting until I tasted blood.
After our fathers died, Declan became leader, and I stood beside him, his right arm, along with his brothers. I gave it all up. I dated, got bored, tried again. Same shit. I’m expected to marry, get my wife pregnant, continue the Brady name. The next rulers of the Irish Consortium.
Autumn isn’t like the women in our world. She’s not scared of us. Doesn’t have that look in her eyes. She doesn’t see the deals being made inthe shadows. She’s just here to work and enjoy Viviana’s wedding. Sweet. Untouched.
My breathing quickens, and Declan shifts closer.
“You’re fucked.” He grunts.
“I know,” I mutter, unable to tear my eyes off her.
Chapter One
Flynn
Six Months After
“How was the belated honeymoon?”
He looks at me, one eyebrow up. “Good…”
“What? Can’t I ask?” I shrug, rolling my shoulders; the muscles tighten under my shirt.
“You could just wait until this fucker stops screaming and we aren’t stepping on blood and guts.” Declan moves around the man and pulls his hair so he’s facing me.
Peter Kellan. Another deep shit who thought he could steal from us while Declan took a one-month honeymoon to Italy. He wanted to show Viviana her mother’s town, and I still think he went to kill her sister but didn’t tell anyone.
“So?” I ask the fucker again as I lean in, grabbing his chin and thumbing another tooth loose. He screams; blood sprays and beads on my knuckles.
“I—” He gags on the blood. “I’m sorry.”
I roll my eyes. Of course you are.
“Mister Callaghan, I didn’t mean to—” He coughs. I step back, giving Declan space as his brothers bring the concrete blocks. Kian and Connor are, besides Declan and my security chief, the only people I trust. TheIrish Consortium has four families: the Callaghans, the Bradys, basically me, my uncle and his family, the Flanaghans, and the Keeffes. Four families that control the docks. No one ships anything or makes deals in this city without our say-so.
He screams when he sees the concrete blocks. Kian chuckles. “Come on now, you knew this would happen.”
Connor chains his legs, and Declan lands another punch so hard the man goes out cold.
“Finally he’s out.” I walk to the counter and rinse my hands; my white shirt is more red than its original colour. Another one to burn. The warm iron smell clings to my skin.
“I need to ask you a favour.” Declan reaches for the sink next to me.
“Sure.” I roll my shoulders, the tension slipping from my traps with each pull of muscle.
