Walking up on the guys, one smiles lewdly when he sees me. “’Sup, mama? Looking for a good time?”
“Absolutely.” I smile back, then pull the gun from the holster inside my coat.One-two-three, I pick them off before they even know what hit them. “Ronan says hello. And get the fuck off his block.” I drop a few calling cards with a black clover logo on them. It’s Ronan’s new brand. Which I find completely ironic since it's the exact same image Declan has tattooed on his hands.It’s a hugefuck youto Declan O’Dea. It’s Ronan declaring I’ve taken everything and left you with nothing.
A moment later, a car screeches to a halt behind me. I hop in, and it speeds away. A few blocks down, I toss the wig out the window and let my copper locks fly.
We turn down an alleyway a few more blocks away, and I toss the gun in a random dumpster.
Sayonara.
Forty-five minutes later, we’re pulling up to an estate in Cambridge. As beautiful as it is, it gives me the creeps. I grew up in a house just like this. It was my exquisite prison. I thought I had escaped, but it turns out, a free bird can return to captivity.
The monstrous Victorian hidden behind an acre of trees is perfectly preserved on the outside, with a modern update inside. According to Ronan, the house has been in his family for three generations. It’s where he and his sister were born, and where all of his immediate family died.
Charming, right?
I am the epitome of cool, calm, and collected as I walk inside the house. I’m met with dark wood floors, stark white walls, and gray wooden accents. It wouldn’t be a terrible place to live if Ronan were dead. In the sitting room near the stairs, Aisling is being entertained by her nanny. Ronan converted the space into more of a playroom for her. Which I’m not sure she needed; her bedroom itself could pass for a playground.
“Are you being a good girl?” I lift her into my arms and give her a hug.
“The best.” Katia, her nanny, confirms, still sitting on the floor. She’s Russian and absolutely wonderful with Aisling.
Aisling rewards me with a wet kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, my little love.” I kiss her back, and she giggles.
“Da-Da?” she asks,again.She’s been asking for Declan since we got here. It drives Ronan crazy, but it’s only natural.
“No, baby, no Da-Da.” It breaks my heart to have to tell her that. And every time I do, she cries.Shit.I hand her off to Katia in the midst of blubbery tears and a pouty lip.
“I need to go see Ronan.”
“I’ve got her,” Katia assures me, cuddling Aisling while working some kind of distraction magic. She’s barely sniffling by the time I make it halfway up the stairs.
Thank heavens for Katia.
I knock on Ronan’s office door. “Come in.”
I enter and take a seat in the cushy armchair in front of his desk. “It’s done.”
“Good.” He’s pleased, like always. This isn’t the first errand I’ve run for him. And I have a feeling it won’t be my last.
“Think they’ll get the message?”
“If they don’t, I’ll make sure it’s a lot bloodier next time. That’s my fucking territory, and I'll be damned if some fucking street thugs are going to try and take it over.”
“Yeah, that would be pretty stupid on their part,” I sit back and cross my legs. A loose group of random hoods don’t have a prayer going up against a highly organized crime syndicate like the Kennedys. The odds would not be in their favor.
Ronan leans forward on his desk and leers at me, helping himself to a greedy eyeful of my bare legs.
“What?” I ask.
“I like having you in my house. Doing my bidding.”
“Is that all? I’m just your errand girl, huh?”
“No.” His brown eyes are so sharp and so cunning, my hairline tingles. And not in a good way.
Ronan opens his desk drawer and slides a little black velvet box in my direction. The sight of it causes my stomach to roll so hard, I fear I might projectile vomit all over the pristinely clean room.
“For me?”
