This side of town has and will always belong to the O’Sullivan clan. We founded the rules. We regulate what happens and we control this area.
The Irish, not the fucking Italians. They need to learn their place. We don’t go to their area or cause issues for them. Justbecause our territories border one another doesn’t mean we can’t get along.
But they get greedy and want everything. We don't care if they have businesses close to the borders, we all do. But they can't expect us to keep quiet when they cross into our territory and take our girls, drugs, and guns. Our space, our business.
“What’s up with you?” Ciaran asks.
He called me an hour ago to see if I wanted to grab lunch with him. This was normal. He was the face of the organization. I was the secret.
I wipe my mouth, then throw the napkin on the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ha! You’re the craftiest person I know. You’re mybrother. I know when something’s off with you. Finally find some pussy to get all worked up over?” He sets down his fork and stares at me.
He isn’t my biological brother but we were raised as brothers, and I’d die for him. Hell, I kill for him all the time. Ciaran, Fiona, and I are all close.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the fog of Ewen’s words that continue to haunt me. “It’s definitely not pussy that’s got me worked up.”
“So, you found a dick you want?” He cocks his brow at me.
I don’t need to confirm it. They’ve always known I’ll fuck anything living, or at least I used to. I haven’t fucked anyone since Ewen moved back to Boston.
Maybe that’s my issue. I need to get laid.
But I don’t think that’s it. I don’t want tojustget laid. I want my fallen angel.
“I’m just trying to process some shit. There isn’t a way for us to be anything.” I sound like a child who’s lost his favorite toy. I’ve always known there would never be anything between Ewen and I. I’ve accepted it, but when he talked to me, saying his stupid bullshit about right and wrong, I let it affect me.
Ciaran leans across the table and grabs my forearm in a brotherly embrace. I look at him. “If this guy can’t see who you are, then he doesn’t deserve you. I know you. I know you don’t catch feelings. Hell, I’ve never seen you in anything close to a relationship since Margo and that shit was over a decade ago.” He squeezes my arm before pulling back. “You never have to put up with any of that. You’re an O’Sullivan and we fucking run this city. Fuck, I’ll even get my hands dirty if they hurt you.”
I smile at that. Ciaran has never gotten his hands dirty, at least not directly. That’s why he has me. I have and will always be the one to do it. I enjoy it.
“Ciar, don’t let Gramps or Dad hear you say that.”
“Gramps is so far removed from the world, he’s lucky he still remembers us. And Dad would understand. He loves you just as fiercely as I do. Now, let’s move past this inner bull. You’re better than that. I’ve heard some interesting information about Geno recently.”
That pulls my interest. Geno is the future leader of the Bianchis. Their father Frank currently holds that title. “Oh, do tell. You have my full attention.”
He smirks. “I knew that would work.”
Ciaran looks around, checking to see if anyone is paying attention to us. They’re not. We’re in the center of our territory. Everyone here either respects us or fears us, which means nobody would eavesdrop.
“A source has said that he knocked up one of his girls. Barely of age. And that he plans on marrying her. I guess Frank is livid. From everything we know he was already set up in an arranged marriage. You know Frank and those old thugs love making those arrangements,” he leans in, “and he told Frank he wants out of the family business.”
Well, that’s some fucking news. The Bianchis are very similar to our family in hierarchy. Usually if you head the organizationand have a son, it’s assumed they’ll follow in the father’s footsteps. It’s how we keep from getting caught and thrown into prison. For an heir to give that up, it’s not common. We’re in this world for life. Family first and foremost.
“No way Frank will accept that. He hates his other son. Geno was the one groomed to take over.”
He shakes his head and picks up his fork and knife, cutting into his steak. “Trust me, I know all this. I guess Enzo is determined to make daddy proud. I think that’s why they’ve been trying to move into our area. He’s trying to prove to Frank he can do it.”
I never thought of things from this angle. Enzo was never more than a joke in our world. He always aspired to be more to his father and crew, but Frank made it clear he only wanted Geno—not Enzo—to succeed him.
“I’ll have to keep my eyes on him. He used to run his mouth a lot, but I thought that the stabbing I gave him back in high school would shut him up. I’m also curious how I haven’t heard any of this from the yappers in the bar. The street boys always know the gossip.”
“Oh, my information isn’t well known by anyone outside of the immediate family. No way Frank wants the knowledge out there.”
That gets my attention. “So, how doyouknow this?”
He gives me his evil smile.
