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I drew her into my arms, stroking her back as she cried tears of worry and fear into my chest.
“I will be safe,” I told her. “I have too much to live for knowing you’ll be waiting here for me.”
She lifted her head. Long lashes batted away the wetness from her eyes. “Do you really mean that?”
“Aye.”
“Do you promise to come back to me?”
I pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks. “Always.”
“Because, Lucifer ...” Her lips parted on a sigh, but no words came out.
“Aye, sweetheart?”
“Before you go . . . you need to know . . .”
I leaned into her and brushed her nose with mine. “Tell me. What do I need to know?”
She swallowed hard. “I really, really . . . love . . . horses . . .”
“Is that so?” Something other people might have called joy slipped between my ribs like a knife. “You love them, do you?”
“Very much so.”
I grinned against her mouth. “We are talking about ... horses, aye?”
She poked me in the chest, but her eyes implored me to understand.
I caught her hand and kissed it. “When I get home, I want you to tell me more. I want to know everything.”
“Okay ...” She dipped her chin. “When you get home ...”
“When I get home.”
Keegan slid into the passenger seat of the Range Rover and slammed the door. “The Mafia can blow me.”
I chuckled as I started the ignition.
“Fucking Italians—whoa. Holy. Fuck.” His head snapped in my direction. “Did you just fucking laugh?”
I met his smirk of satisfaction with a grin of my own. “Aye. I did.”
After a moment of silent gloating, he nodded in approval. “Well, o-fucking-kay then.” He sat back with a casual shrug. “Fuck me sideways. Let’s roll.”
I glanced in the rearview mirror to catch one last look at Willa as she watched our exit through the parlor window. At the end of the driveway, I bore right while Liam and Niall went left. Rather than caravan to Bianco’s, we took separate routes to stay apprised of any tails. I felt optimistic that today’s meeting with the Russians would bring an end to the drama that plagued our rival organizations, but a positive attitude hadn’t kept me alive for thirty years—I’d sustained on vigilance.
“Any word from Declan?” Fifteen minutes into our uneventful drive, it felt like an appropriate time to catch up on business matters. Being the boss felt natural, and with each day that separated me from the night I’d learned the truth about my past, I embraced it a little more.
“There was an oil spill on the Pike, but they’ll roll up in Providence before dark. I’ve been in touch with the flight crew with a new ETA.”
Before the sun rose on a new day, Cillian Brennan would return to Dublin in one piece. It wasn’t my first choice, but his reckoning would come eventually.
I would personally see to it.
“Grifin?” I asked.
“M. I. Motherfucking-A. The pissant went dark. I’ve put the word out. We’ll catch the rat—no worries, bro.”
