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There are men in black suits standing by the doors and windows, but they aren't our men. The Ruin's men are here to keep the peace. It's like the United Nations for crime organizations that must be managed and handled. Everyone that has a seat with this organization has a chance to represent their family's interest. Those not adhering to the Ruin's rules at meetings like this one are more or less signing their own death warrants.
Four men walk in, and Ryan stands to greet them. I recognize a few of them as Orla’s family. I watch as he grasps one's hand but not really in a shake; they just grasp each other and hold it. It’s a sign of greeting and respect.
"It's good to see you again, Aleksandr," Ryan says respectfully, "Although, not under this situation." He turns to greet the guy beside the first, and I recognize him immediately as Orla’s brother. "Kirill." Ryan is more distant, yet still respectful. The guy is noticeably upset.
"I want to know how you could let something like this happen to my sister. Are you so weak that you can’t take care of your family?" Kirill barks.
"You don’t know what you are speaking about, Kirill. I’ve protected Orla from disgracing her family for way too long," Ryan growls out through gritted teeth.
"I demand you explain yourself to us."
"I have nothing to explain. I have many things to tell you, however. I would prefer we do this civilized. Is that not why we are here? Perhaps we should have a seat so we may discuss everything."
All the men sit, including the two Ryan didn't address.
I clear my throat. Tonight also begins the process of showing the world I’m taking over the reins of the O’Leary organization. As such, I’m the one who leads the conversation. "Orla, Sergei, and Demetri were working with two men that double-crossed the O’Leary’s and set me up,” I respond, not bothering with niceties. “Here's what we found," I add, sliding a folder over for Aleksandr and Kirill. The folders contain a copy of the lease of the apartment in Bones’s name. There are pictures of the apartment after the scuffle we set up, including Orla’s body and her nephews. Also included is Orla's letter which will easily make them think she is writing to Bones. I’m sure Kirill will vouch that it’s her handwriting.
I hear Kirill and the other two men mumbling and cursing under their breath, but I block them out. The only man that’s important right now is Aleksandr. I watch, my body tense, as he looks through the folder. It seems to take forever, but eventually, he looks up and addresses my father.
"Why did you not seek revenge on Orla and Kirill's sons yourself?" Aleksandr asks, looking at him intently.
"First, I just learned of the of it a few days ago. Secondly, had I known, Orla was my wife. I would've had her contained and sent the nephews home to you," Ryan says, playing the part of the scorned husband extremely well. Maybe there's part of him still hurting from her lies. Kirill snorts, not believing his story.
"You say this, but why should we believe you? Papers are papers—they can be doctored,” he says with a wave of his hand over the folder.
“Are you calling into question my honor, Kirill? Can you not identify your own sister’s handwriting?”
“The O’Leary’s—”
“Before you say anything that I will find unforgivable, perhaps you don't remember that I've always dealt with the Bratva honorably. This includes risking my life thirty years ago to save yours, Kirill." Kirill has the decency of looking uncomfortable as he shrugs.
"You should have had Bones delivered to me to question and seek out my own revenge for my sister," Kirill says defensively.
"In normal situations, that's exactly what I would've done, but this is not normal. The actions of Demetri and Sergei along with Orla are the reason my son was at risk for the fucking electric chair. Even now, he will be required to go back to jail for the treachery of your sons, Kirill. If anyone is allowed to get revenge in this matter it is him," Ryan bites out.
"The bastard son you had when you were married to my sister?" Kirill asks sarcastically. I growl, but Ryan reaches over and puts his hand on mine. It feels strange—his hand on mine. Yet, at the same time, it feels…good.
"Tell me, Kirill, how are your five kids? The ones your loving wife did not give you?" Ryan replies snidely. Kirill gives him a dirty look but snaps his mouth shut while Aleksandr lets out a low laugh.
“Men will be men,” Aleksandr replies, but I say nothing. I couldn’t imagine treating Belle so cruelly. I couldn’t do it—would never do it.
"It doesn't look like Killian is in jail," one of the men with Kirill says, looking at me and not bothering to hide his hate.
