"Good." Callum's tone doesn't soften. "Because if she dies, so do you."
"Understood."
The line goes quiet again, but neither of them hangs up. They're waiting to see if I'll ask more. If I'll need details, reassurance, context.
But I don't.
This is the job. I take the contract, I complete the contract. Everything else is noise.
Rich girls who think they don't need protection are nothing new. They lash out because they've never had to face real consequences. They push because no one's ever pushed back hard enough to make them stop.
I'll just do what I always do. Memorize her until I know her every exit, every threat, every weakness.
It's not the blade that cuts you. It's the thing you didn't see coming that does, just like that poor bastard bleeding out in the alley back there.
"I'll take it," I say and get into my car.
"Okay, Enzo's sending you the file now then," Callum says. "You're on the next flight to Boston. See you soon."
The call ends and my phone pings. Encrypted file incoming.
I open it.
The photo loads slowly and when it appears, the image hits harder than I expect.
She's in a black dress, standing on a stage at some event, a backdrop behind her. Her red hair flows like fire. Green eyes,narrowed. Her head tilted back, full lips parted into a smile as she laughs.
So this is Keira Killaney. The Irish mafia princess.
No. Not princess.
Problem.
While she may be beautiful, that doesn't mean shit.
Beautiful women die just the same, sometimes faster.
I scroll through the attached notes, scanning them. The notes say she runs a foundation, charity work, philanthropy. All standard roles the women in mafia families play.
I don't like family jobs. Too many variables.
My phone pings again.
1st class boarding pass.
Boarding time 6:30 a.m.
I take a corner hard. I don't have time to make it home, so I'll head to the safehouse in Corbeanca, shower, change, grab a bag, and head to the airport nearby.
I pull into the driveway and head inside. An hour later I'm in a taxi texting one of my contacts to come get my car, clean it, and leave it at my house.
When we arrive, I check my Rolex. 5:55 a.m.
Not bad.
I make it through security with only a handful of stares and half-smiles from female flight attendants.
I board the plane and take my seat.
