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“Don’t ask me. I was demoted, remember,” I mocked.
“I’m not interested in what he has to say,” he snapped, ignoring the call.
“Do you think I give a damn what you’re interested in.” The voice coming ceiling above us. My eyes widened and I looked to Killian, whose expression mirrored my own.
“You bugged my fucking club? Are you motherfucking kidding me?” he snapped, glaring up at the ceiling.
“Obviously, not.” Ethan’s cold voice responded. “And now that you and the other one have finished your little chat, check your phones.”
“Excuse me? I’m not taking orders from you,” Killian shouted back, and how fitting it was to see him yelling above him. Like a man fighting with a God.
“Very well, I’m recording, so if you die, your sister won’t blame me for this one. Good luck with the men coming to kill you,” Ethan’s said flatly. Seconds later the television screen came to life, zooming in on the security camera.
“You accessed to my security feeds, too?” Killian snapped.
“Is that really the pressing matter right now?” I asked him. “We have people coming to kill us.”
“Yeah, because of his wife!” He pointed to the ceiling.
I wanted to punch him. I swear to God I wanted to punch him…wait? Was this how I sounded to Ethan?
“Yes, yes, everything is my fault. I heard you’re going to fight, or am I going to have to prepare two caskets? There is an escape map on your phones—”
“I have men here, too, Ethan. It’s only four we aren’t—”
“Don’t interrupt me.” Ethan’s voice harsh. “The men you’ve hired were bribed. The rival gangs you’ve been associating with, they are planning to join me tonight. Doesn’t matter what your skin tone is, where you are, or what you call yourself. If your last name is Callahan, they will try to take you down. If it were as easy as splurging money and opening up a few clubs in that area, Killian, I wouldn’t have sent you. It took us generations to build the hold we have on the Irish and Italian families, decades to gain their loyalty. But keep trying to come for me, Killian, and the people around you will set you up like they set up your grandfather. Good luck.”
The video feed went dead.
“You had to piss him the fuck off, didn’t you,” I snapped.
“Shut up,” Killian sneered, moving to the glass.
“Is the elevator the only way out of here?” I asked him.
“The second escape isn’t finished yet. There is a safe room.”
I exhaled slowly before taking my guns out. “The cops will shut down your club for a while after this.”
“Tsk.” He sucked his teeth angrily, pulling out his guns as well. “This whole godforsaken city is like Gotham without Batman. We can never have any good things.”
I snickered. “On three?”
“On three.”
ETHAN
I watched as the shooting began on my screen, from the chair in my office. Between the three of them—Wyatt, Killian, and Italo—for backup, they should be okay…but then again, who the fuck knew. I did my part, not that those sorry bitches would see it.
Rising from my chair, I moved over to the side table, lifting the kilo of cocaine and putting it on the scale.
“This brings back memories.”
I lifted my head, frowning. It really was like I was fucking being haunted. Once I got rid of one, the other appeared like the ghost of the bothersome parents past.
“You’re studying the actual plant?” she asked as she touched the red coca plant. I had kept it on the corner of the desk while I checked the grades of the last batches I’d managed to collect. Her eyes scanned the table. “You are studying a lot, it seems. Heroin, cocaine, morphine, succinylcholine, that last one is a bit heavy say. El ángel caido? What is this again?”
“Melody.”
