Cillian shoots up with his hand out. “Hold the fuck up. Your wife took out a Russian?”
I grin. “Knocked his ass out cold.”
“Holy shit.” Gavin’s jaw drops. “Wine bottle to the head. That's some badass shit right there.”
Cillian jumps up from the mat. “Sounds like your wifey can handle herself.”
“She can. But that's not the point.” I land a clean shot to his ribs. He ducks away too late and grunts. “The point is they're moving in fast and going after her territory to test her.”
“What's the play?” Cillian asks, moving around me.
“We're figuring it out. Vincenzo, her dad’s right hand, has some feelers out. Wolfe's tracking their movements. If something else is planned, we should get word about it early.” I reset my stance. “But it's gonna get worse before it gets better.”
Cillian nods. “If you need anything from us, you say the word. Gavin and I can be anywhere in the city in minutes. Wolfe, too.”
I slap Cillian on the top of the head. “I appreciate that, guys.”
We finish the round. I'm sweating, breathing hard, but myhead is clearer. Sparring really does help. Cillian tosses me a water bottle.
“You're good for each other,” he says. “We gave you a lot of shit earlier, but I can see it. You're different.”
“Oh yeah?” I twist off the cap and take a long gulp. “Different how?”
“Less wound up. More...” He shrugs. “Present, I guess. Like you're actually living your life instead of just watching over everyone else's.”
I don't know what to say to that.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text. Adriana's name flashes on the screen.
Riccardo called a meeting with three capos without telling me. Vincenzo shut it down but he's going behind my back. Making moves to do something.
I show Cillian the text. His jaw tightens.
“Fucking bastard. You want us to take his ass out?” Cillian mutters.
“Not yet.” I type back a response, clenching my jaw so tight, my teeth could crack.
On my way. We’ll take care of it together.
Her response comes fast.
Together. I like that.
“Gotta go,” I say, grabbing my bag.
“Obviously.” Cillian claps me on the shoulder. “Go handle it. And Loch?”
I look up at him. “Yeah?”
“You deserve this. The good stuff. Remember that.”
I nod once and head for the door as Gavin yells out, “Tell her the wine bottle thing was legendary!”
I chuckle and head out to my car.
The drive back to the penthouse is quick. My blood boils as Riccardo’s text bounces between my temples. I resist the urge to comb the city until I find the sniveling little son of a bitch, stick his head in a toilet bowl, and flush.
Riccardo, the Russians, Ronan. So many fucking prickly bitches to deal with.
