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Thirteen
Brennan
“That was unexpected.”
I rocked back in my seat, shooting Bagpipes a glance before I murmured, “Damn right it was.”
“What do you think happened?”
“With which problem?” I asked wryly. “Dunbar’s or Lyanov’s?”
Bagpipes rolled his eyes. “You said it yourself. She’s a rat—should be used to being tailed.”
I smirked at him. “What did she expect us to do? Babysit her?”
Bagpipes sniffed. “Stupid bitch. Losing digits all over.”
“Huh?”
“Digits... ya know. Like numbers? IQ points?”
“Ain’t got time for your weird sense of humor, bud.”
He flipped me the bird, but said, “Wonder why she killed him.”
“No idea.” I scraped a hand over my jaw. “Just grateful I set that particular wheel in motion a few weeks ago. I must be a psychic.”
“More like psycho.” Bagpipes chuckled before leaning over, his elbows coming to his knees, as he rumbled, “That’s two families with unstable leadership.”
“Things are going to get rocky in NYC,” I agreed. “Probably a good thing that the Summit went down before this happened.”
Bagpipes winced. “Jesus, yeah. With both the Italians and the Russians floundering, you know what that means?”
I rolled my eyes. “This ain’t my first time, Baggy. Territory grab.”
“We have the men now,” he pointed out, and he wasn’t wrong.
Uncle Sam didn’t know it, but in our particular district of New York, we were one of the biggest employers out there.
Funny how shit like that worked out, when the Irish fucking Mob gave out better goddamn benefits than legit corporations you knew you were living in a messed up country that needed change.
Not that we were going to get it with Alan fucking Davidson as POTUS. All those promises he’d given the American people... all of it bullshit. Typical politician. That’s why I had no faith in the system. I didn’t like my world, but give me that over butting heads in the Senate. At least I could leave bruises. Those fuckers just left The Capitol feeling like their asses had been reamed.
Drumming my fingers on the table, I pondered my next move. This had altered the situation dramatically, but it didn’t change what was happening tomorrow. Made it easier, in fact. Plus, with Vasov out of the picture, we could earn some more territory out of it,andretain an alliance with the Bratva if Maxim Lyanov managed to make it to the top of the tree.
There was a reason I’d thrown a lure his way—he had potential. That was why Vasov had kept him close. With no boy children, he’d had to mentor someone. Of course, that meant Lyanov had crosshairs on his back now Vasov was dead...
As always, the minutiae were enough to trigger a headache. And I didn’t have time for that.
“I need to get going.”
“You’re going to meet with her?”
“How else would she know where my apartment is?”
“You could text her,” he said dryly.
“And they say chivalry is dead. She just murdered her father,” I drawled as I reflected on how his murder changed the status quo.
