Page 9 of Sinful Bride

The rage that floods through me is cold. This isn't the hot anger of a bar fight or a personal insult. This is something that demands blood and retribution.

"Get him out of here," I tell Cormac. "Find out everything he knows. Names, locations, who gave the order. Everything."

"What are you going to do?"

I look at the burning warehouse and the body bags, the men who survived standing in shocked silence. My men. My responsibility.

"The first thing I have to do is make sure the cops are paid up," I say tightly. "And then I'm going to call Enzo Capetti and demand a meeting."

Cormac's eyes widen. "Boss, that's⁠—"

"A declaration of war?" I finish. "Good. Because that's exactly what this is, if he doesn't find some way to make up for what he's just fucking done. And I don't know what the hell that would be."

I stride away, heading toward the other set of flashing lights that tell me the cops have arrived. It doesn't take long to slide some money over and promise that when the police chief calls me, I'll make a hefty donation, and then I'm free to call Enzo Capetti.

The phone rings three times before a voice answers, smooth and cultured even at this hour. "Mr. Murphy. To what do I owe the pleasure of a call at this ungodly hour?"

"One of your men just blew up my warehouse," I say, my voice deadly calm. "Killed two of my people. I have him in custody, and he's already talking."

"I'm sure there's been some misunderstanding⁠—"

"No misunderstanding. I have proof. Text messages from a Capetti number. So here's what's going to happen." I take a breath, letting the cold rage settle into my bones. "You're going to meet with me tomorrow, and you're going to explain to me why I shouldn't burn your entire organization to the ground."

When Enzo speaks again, his voice has lost its smoothness. "You're making a mistake, Murphy."

"The only mistake I made was thinking we could coexist peacefully." I look at the warehouse again, and the smoke still rising into the night sky. "Tomorrow. Noon. I'll send you the location. Don't be late."

I end the call before he can respond.

Cormac is staring at me, his expression stuck between awe and terror. "Boss, you just⁠—"

"I know what I just did." I pocket my phone and turn to face my men. All of them are watching me now, waiting to see what I'll do, if I'm strong enough to lead them through this.

I think of Lachlan, and the way he commanded respect without ever raising his voice. His men followed him because they believed in him, not because they feared him.

I'm not Lachlan. I'll never be Lachlan. But I'm what they have now. And I'll be damned if I let them down.

"Listen up," I say, my voice carrying across the group. "Two of our brothers died tonight. The Capettis think they can attack us with impunity, that we're weak because I'm new to this. Other families do, too. They're all wrong."

I let that sink in, watching their faces and seeing the anger and the grief, the need for vengeance.

"We're going to make them pay. Not because we're animals, or because we're reckless, but because we protect our own. Because when someone comes after us, we hit back twice as hard."

A murmur of agreement ripples through the group.

"Get the wounded to the hospital. Get the families notified. And get me everything you can find on Capetti operations in the city. Every warehouse, every business, every asset. I want to know where they're vulnerable."

"Yes, boss," Cormac says, and the others echo him.

I turn back to the burning warehouse, watching the flames die down as the firefighters get them under control. Two men are dead because I wasn't careful or vigilant enough… wasn't good enough.

Elena's voice echoes in my head again. You don't belong here.

Maybe she's right. Maybe I don't belong in her world of crystal chandeliers and silk dresses. But I belong in this world of blood and fire and retribution, where actions have consequences and debts are paid in full.

And the Capettis just incurred a debt I'm going to make sure they pay.

3