Page 210 of Sins of Arrogance

But I have more press­ing thoughts to at­tend to right now.

Like how many times can I make my wife or­gasm be­fore she passes out?

The an­swer is four.

I gen­tly clean her body, my cock giv­ing a jerk as I wipe the com­bi­na­tion of my spend and her juices from her thighs. But I let her sleep and force my­self to shower and dress. Af­ter check­ing on Fitz, sleep­ing with Gobby be­side him on the pil­low, I re­turn to the sub­base­ment for the next step in my plan to rid the earth of Dier­dre and Darakov.

With­out go­ing to war with the Nor­thies.

Brice steps out of the hold­ing cell when I reach it. “He’s ready, boss.”

Only the men in my crew, those un­der my lieu­tenants and my pri­vate se­cu­rity de­tail, call me boss. The rest of the Shaugh­nessy sol­diers call me un­der­boss.

But my men’s loy­alty is to me first.

I al­ready run this mob, even if Bro­gan thinks he’s do­ing it.

“Good.” I en­ter the cell and find a naked Darakov strapped to a chair, the clar­ity in his eyes tes­ta­ment that he is in­deed ready.

The benzo com­pound has mostly worn off, so he’ll ap­pre­ci­ate what I’m about to tell him fully.

I slap Darakov first on the left cheek, then on the right. He’ll be dead be­fore a bruise can form on ei­ther.

There are no overt marks on him.

“Wraith is as adept as you or I at dol­ing out pain with­out leav­ing bruises be­hind,” Brice says with ap­proval.

I nod to­ward Wraith. “Good to know.”

He in­clines his head. “I pre­fer us­ing those tech­niques on bas­tards like him who de­serve it.”

I don’t ask him what he means. I don’t care. “I pre­fer to use my skills on be­half of my fam­ily too.”

Wraith’s gaze probes mine. “You meant it when you said that when I’m in­ducted into the mob, I’ll be part of the fam­ily?”

“I did. That’s how we work in the Irish mob. Sol­diers are sol­diers, but they’re also fam­ily. Their wives, their chil­dren, they’re all our re­spon­si­bil­ity.”

“That’s not how Besnik sees it.”

“He’s a waste of space. And his cho­sen heir is go­ing to take down his syn­di­cate from within if an en­emy doesn’t do it first.” An en­emy like me.

Wraith doesn’t smile, but there’s a lift at the cor­ner of one of his eyes. “You’re right about that, boss. You’re right about that.”

Darakov stares up at me. “You can’t do this. If you kill me, you’ll be declar­ing war with my bratva.”

“You de­clared fuck­ing war with the Shaugh­nessy Mob when you tried to break in and steal what is not yours. I’m al­ready work­ing on the de­struc­tion of your bratva.”

He tries to look like he’s not af­fected, but I can tell that hit home. “You can’t de­stroy us. We’re too strong.”

I laugh with some hu­mor but more cru­elty. “You mean the Odessa Mafia is too strong.”

Not that I be­lieve any syn­di­cate is too strong to take down, but Odessa isn’t my en­emy. Darakov and his bratva are.

“Your bratva is just a tiny part of their or­ga­ni­za­tion,” I de­ride.

“An im­por­tant part. I’m the best weapons dealer they have.”

“You’d sound more im­pres­sive if your tiny dick wasn’t shriv­eled and on dis­play,” Brice mocks.