“The Viacavas will shut this city down,” I continue. “Airports, bridges, streets. They only have to make one call and you won’t make it two blocks. You think you can just fly back to Dublin after this?”
The guy by the counter looks over at me, and the one who’s peering through the split in the curtains glances over his shoulder.
“And you believe the Viacavas will trade two mill for Declan Blake’s daughter?” he asks. “You’re nothing to them. Murphy already asked Kingston to pay up. What makes you think they’ll pay now?”
I hold his gaze. “So why the fuck did you bother taking me?”
“You’re still a Viacava wife.” He shrugs. “Murphy asked nicely the first time. Now we have to prove a point. So you’d better get on your knees and pray for a miracle.”
“They’d never let scum like you succeed.Even if I’m just a Blake, you crossed into their territory and fucked withthem. You won’t leave New York with your head.”
My words come out convincing, even if uncertainty twists low in my gut. Because I don’t know what’s real anymore.
I don’t have time to waste wondering if Bronx will arrive with a case full of cash. I never needed him before. And sure as hell don’t need him to save me now.
The man with the phone shakes his head and continues to stare at his phone while the guy in front of me lowers the gun a fraction.
And in that second, I move fast.
My hand clamps around his wrist, twisting hard before he can bring the weapon back up. I step into him, driving my shoulder into his chest, shoving him off balance as the gun jerks sideways.
He swears, his grip tightening, but I’m already turning with him, pushing his arm lower, my fingers locking over the handle.
The shot goes off between us at close range, and his body drops.
I secure the gun and level it at the guy by the counter at the same time as the man by the window draws his weapon and aims at me.
“Don’t,” I snap before either of them can pull the trigger. “You fire, he’s dead before your shot misses.”
It’s a gamble.
One I can’t afford to lose.
The man by the counter freezes, eyes flicking between meand the body at my feet.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he hisses. “You killed him.”
“Of course I killed him. You know who I am, asshole. And you’re both next unless you come over here and sit the fuck down. Give me that phone, and I’ll speak to Murphy myself.”
“You’re dead, bitch.”
“And you need to think this through,” I say, keeping the gun steady even as my pulse hammers in my throat. “Kill me, and you don’t get paid. The Viacavas will hunt you down even if you land in Ireland.”
“They’ll never find us,” he replies, voice tight, finger tightening on the trigger. “But I know Connor’s movements and who he spends time with these days.”
I walk a few steps, putting the couch between us, making him move if he wants a clear shot.
“Then you’re gonna die for nothing,” I fire back. “Because I’m not gonna let you threaten him and walk away.”
On my next breath, the door bursts open.
The impact cracks through the apartment like thunder, wood splintering, hinges tearing loose as the frame gives way under the force. Armed men flood the space in a surge.
And then I see Bronx.
My heart stutters.
He came.
