AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Did a three-piece suit make that much of a difference?
Did Nyx, with his leathers and cut, his heavy boots and inked flesh, present more of a threat than a man wearing three-thousand-dollars’ worth of tailoring?
Maybe to a layman on the street.
But I knew how venomous a person could be beneath the silk.
Prettying up the devil didn’t take away from what that person was.
My father, dressed in Brioni and a hundred-thousand-dollar Rolex on his wrist, was more than capable of slicing someone from throat to belly. He just got someone else to do it so he didn’t get bloodstains everywhere.
And rumors about Brennan, and his position in the Five Points, had always been rife.
No one knew what he did, not specifically, because he tended to be everywhere. But everyone knew that the Irish didn’t work that way.
Each of the five sons had their own division, as they were their father’s arms. Not just his heirs, but his generals. Each man had a crew who worked for them, and each one had distinct roles.
I didn’t know what because the little I knew came mostly from the Sinners. In my household, business wasn’t discussed with women. Not even in front of us. We were sent out of the room when Father had to talk with his Sovietnik and Obschak, his security and money men, over dinner.
The sound of a car’s engine revving jolted me from the extended glance, and I shot a look onto the road, and saw the SUV was incoming. Brennan, also spying this, drifted into his seat, and within seconds, now my guard was back, he went, leaving me to return to the fold.
Not one part of me wanted to get into that SUV and head for the house.
The house because it was never my home. Not since Mama’s death, and maybe not even before then. I’d worked hard to shield Inessa and Victoria from the truth of our parents’ marriage, but there was only so much a teenager could do, and there’d been nobody to shield me from the sight of Mama’s busted lips and the hours spent in front of a mirror as she tried to look her normal self.
Now I was older, now I understood such dynamics, I had to wonder what else had gone down between them...
A shiver whispered down my spine at the thought.
That was why I didn’t begrudge Mama her affair with Brennan.
Why I wanted him for myself.
She would never have put herself in danger for a man who wasn’t worthy, and I had to hope that he meant what he said—he’d keep me safe.
He’d protect me.
Because once I was married to him, I was his.
And even though I didn’t know him, knew him only by reputation, and what there was of that was enough to terrify any death row inmate, I still preferred to be with him than remain under my father’s roof.
With lead feet and dread in my heart, I made my way to the SUV, but when I reached for the car door, I caught a glimpse of my hands. The blood was drying, making the creases filled with it even more prevalent, and I sighed before turning on my heel and retreating to the front reception where there was a restroom, and thankfully, no one manning the desk who’d ask me awkward questions about my ‘injuries.’
After washing up, I made a quick return, and found the driver’s seat empty and the guard back as a passenger.
Grateful because I hated being driven as it gave me car sickness, I dipped my chin at him and murmured my thanks, “Spasibo.”
“Na Zdorovie.”
The drive home took barely any time at all, and within those moments, my head was caught in a whirl. Tomorrow, I wasn’t free. I was exchanging one jail cell for another, but at least this jailor was handsome.
At least his eyes didn’t spit evil.
At least he smiled, and was capable of gentle chivalry.
My mind whirred back to those moments at the clerk’s office. He’d been a jerk, but when he’d put a hand on me, he hadn’t left bruises behind. He hadn’t dragged me toward him or toward the desk. He’d even got back into line.
A mobster—queuing.
