So far, the gun in his hand is the only weapon I can see.
“Where am I?” I ask, keeping my voice rough, with just enough confusion to sell it.
He huffs a laugh and leans back in the chair.
“Above ground,” he says. “For now.”
I stay where I am, my back pressed to the wall, and say nothing.
“Your brother’s been busy,” he continues. “Slipped out of Dublin, vanished for a while… then turned up here thinking he’d be out of sight, out of mind.”
I keep my face blank and clear my throat, the dryness biting.
“Leave Connor out of this,” I say, straightening. “Whatever my da owes ya, I’ll sort it out.”
He grins, slower this time. “Youreally don’t know, do ya?”
My chest tightens.
“Connor Blake is buried in this,” he says. “Your da owes us two mill, little Blakey. Your brother’s part of it.”
“That’s bullshit,” I grit. “My brother doesn’t work for our da. He’s a student. He wants better than waving a gun in people’s faces.”
“Right.” He tilts the gun in his hand. “This gets respect, though.”
The man by the counter lets out a raspy chuckle.
“Connor met with O’Rourke yesterday,” he says without looking up from his phone. “Sat nice and cosy, takin’ envelopes. Looked like he’s been doin’ it his whole life. And none of that money has landed in our hands.”
The room closes in; the air turning hot and tight in my lungs. I shake my head.
“That’s not possible.”
The man in front of me sits forward.
“Your da’s run up a debt he can’t hide from,” he says. “A debt your brother can’t fix with cash.”
My stomach twists.
“Marrying a Viacava was a bold move, but they don’t pay debts for men like Declan. Unless they’re pushed.” He scratches his hand over his stubbled face. “Either they settle the score, or you die here. That’s how this works.”
“I’ll get your money.”
“Your da has tested Murphy’s patience already. We’re done talkin’,” he says. “You’re the message. And maybe after this, we’ll put a bullet in Connor too. Just to drive the message home harder to your old man.”
I let that sit for a second, then push myself to my feet and glare at him.
“I’m guessing the Viacavas know you’ve taken me hostage?”
“They do now… but the question you should be askin’ is do they give a fuck?”
I thumb the wedding ring on my finger and push down the bitter truth. Bronx doesn’t care about the woman he married. He didn’t fall in love with me, or decide to renew our vows so they’d actually mean something.
I believed the lie and almost let him win.
“None of you will leave New York with your lives,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “You’ve messed with the wrong person.”
The guy smiles and stands, his full height towering over me. “Ya think?”
