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Foxx nodded. “Oh, I’m positive. How quickly you forget that my uncle has been working with an American Irish crime syndicate out of New York.”
“What?” I teased. “And here I thought I knew everything about you.” Both Jack and I knew about the black sheep of his family, although it rarely came up in our conversations.
He chuckled. “My father doesn’t claim him as his brother any longer. But I keep up. I’ve heard Madden’s name mentioned more than once. I’m not sure I like the coincidence.”
“You know what they say. There is no such thing as coincidences in the world of a mob organization,” Jack added to the conversation.
I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s all you got?”
“Ain’t it enough?”
Foxx continued surfing on his phone while I paid more attention to the conversation the man was having with Declan, who was as animated as he’d been at the construction site.
The three of us had fascinating backgrounds, not that it usually mattered any longer. We were considered bad boys, the kind of men you wouldn’t want your daughters hooked up with. We’d made a pact with each other so long ago I couldn’t remember many of the details but one thing had always stuck out in my mind.
Our crazy little thought of sharing a woman for the rest of our lives. Together. As a strange, maybe what some would call twisted family. But I’d seen it in my mind so many times the details had become a blur. I hadn’t realized how much time I’d put into thinking about the possibilities until we’d met Rylee. Why her? Why now?
Maybe another hint coming from the universe that it was time to slow down. The investments I’d made were more significant than what my two best friends knew about. There’d been no real reason to keep my building wealth a secret other than I’d been fearful of their teasing. I studied the two men, noticing that Declan was nervous as fuck. I didn’t need to be sitting close to the two men to notice the rigger was sweating profusely.
And Madden was grinning like some Cheshire cat.
What in the fuck was going on? From what Foxx had said about his meeting with Sean, his daughter didn’t know the extent of bad news plaguing the family. Had she placed her trust in Declan along the way? Maybe they were lovers or had been.
A jealous streak hit me hard.
I didn’t want anyone touching our girl. Ours. Yeah, Foxx was right in that Rylee would likely take offense to my savage thinking. Yet here it was, my cock and balls aching from the thought of tasting her again.
“Yep. I was right,” Foxx said under his breath just before the waitress brought us our drinks. He remained quiet, glaring at the table as the girl placed the drinks in front of us. I was the one who pushed her away for a few minutes, the thought of food not interesting me.
Foxx finally showed Jack and me what he’d found.
“The bastard is considered the wealthiest and most notorious criminal in Ireland’s history, his father’s level of brutality rivaling any crime syndicate in America, Italy, or Russia. Pick a fucking country. Both Madden and his father are reported to have killed dozens of men. Could be an old wives’ tale but from what my uncle said the last time I talked with him, I doubt it. Madden’s empire is phenomenal and if I had to guess, I’d say he wants to expand.”
“So what the fuck is he doing with Declan?” Jack asked.
“The rig has something to offer, something we have no idea about,” I said more in passing.
“Likely.” Foxx put his phone on the table. “Let’s see where this meeting goes.”
The meeting between the two lasted all of ten additional minutes before Declan jerked to his feet, pointing his finger in Madden’s face. There was an envelope on the table that Declan snatched. If I had to guess, I’d say it contained money.
“A fucking payoff. For what?” Jack snarled.
“For undermining Sean and Rylee,” Foxx offered.
Yep. That’s exactly what I’d guess. But for what?
I’d noticed the two goons standing off to the side before. They puffed up like parrots, waiting to flap their wings.
Or to put a bullet in Declan’s brain.
The man was allowed out of the restaurant, the two goons conferring with Madden before another waitress cleared Declan’s drink, rearranging the table with a new napkin and fresh silverware.
The Irish mafia leader was expecting another guest.
At least we didn’t need to wait long to find out who that was, although as the three of us shrank back at the table as the stunning woman walked through the restaurant, headed directly for Madden’s table, I had a feeling we were all wondering the same thing.
“Rylee,” Jack breathed.
