AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s not wrong. Odhran or Orin, McDermott was not raised as most Mafia and Cartel heirs, from what I’ve been told. As the youngest of 6 sons, he was coddled, at best. No one had expected him to be the one to take over for his father, but when a catastrophic plane crash took out everyone in his family, including his mother and younger sister, he became the sole survivor of the McDermott line, therefore he now holds the keys to the Irish Mob empire.
As previously discussed with the Los Diablos as well as my cousin, though Orin is local, I know he does not hold the manpower to start any type of war. What concerns me, however, is that he still does not know how or what caused the plane crash last year, and I’ve no doubt in my mind that he is searching for answers. Given our father’s long-time rivalry, it is safe to assume that the Cosa Nostra would be on Orin’s suspect list. He may be without an army and balls, but I know firsthand the way that vengeance can push a man to do great and terrible things.
“And as for Raul Diaz, he is—” Aldo pauses midsentence and a quiet grunt has my eyes flying open, only to find a masked face peering down at me. I gasp, my heart rate skyrocketing as I jerk forward in search of Aldo, only to be pressed back into the chair when cold metal digs into my throat.
“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man tsks from beneath the black bandana that leaves only his dull brown eyes exposed. His voice is as bland as his eyes, giving nothing away. No hint of an accent, no lilt or intonation alluding to who employs him, but someone does. He was hired and sentherefor me.
Red hot rage fills me instantaneously, making it difficult to breathe calmly. I did this. I brought them here. I put Aldo in danger, or worse. I push the possibilities aside, focusing on the man before me. This is the closest we’ve come to one of our attackers and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I cannot waste this opportunity.
I take in everything that I can see which isn’t much with my head cocked back at an odd angle. Utilizing years of experience and training, I catalog every feature. Every breath. Every hair on his piece of shit head, using the silent standoff to center myself.
And then,I move.
Kicking my legs forward, I plant my feet on the mirrored wall in front of me and shove myself backward, hearing it crack under the pressure. The chair gets knocked off balance, hitting the would-be attacker in his gut and making him lose his grip on what I assume is the shaving blade. He stumbles and I use his distraction to my advantage as I propel myself from the barber chair before it collides with the ground. In the next second, my hand is wrapped around my Baretta M9 and pointing it directly at his face.
His eyes go wide, and he tosses the blade to the ground, swapping the useless weapon for his own gun. I bark out a laugh.Fucking idiot.
“You should have started with the gun,” I offer as a smile that doesn’t match my mood spreads across my face. “Clearly, you’re new at this.” My words and surprise attack successfully piss him off enough to make him sloppy. Correction, sloppier.
He advances on me while fumbling for his weapon. I use the momentary distraction to take in our surroundings. Within only a few short seconds, I discover three very important things.
One; Aldo is on the ground a few feet away, blood trickling from a wound on the back of his head but his eyes are open. If the expression on his face is anything to go by, he’s not only okay but he’s pissed. Rightfully so. I’ve no doubt he wants to make this man suffer for creating such chaos in the middle of his busy workday.
Two; seeing that Aldo is relatively unharmed, I scan the room, taking in the back entrance that leads to the alleyway. The door is wide open, telling me that this fucker probably used it in his rush to get to me. Half of my men had been guarding the back and the other half were posted on the front. Knowing how skilled my men are and the fact that they aren’t in here raising hell right now tells me the next thing I need to know. My attacker did not arrive alone, though I have every confidence that whomever this dipshit brought with him won’t be living much longer.
That brings me to the third and most vital fact. If my guards kill this guy’s buddies, then that means he needs to be the one who survives. I need him alive and apparently, whomever these men are, they have a failsafe to prevent being captured.
I take my next step with that thought at the forefront of my mind.
Shooting a quick apologetic look at Aldo, I aim my gun directly above my attacker and fire. Glass explodes around us, and a loud crash echoes in the room coupled with thepopof my gun as I take out the old skylight in the ceiling. All of the sounds along with the raining shards of glass and metal create a cacophony of disorienting sensations for the unsuspecting man. He panics, as I knew he would, and stupidly darts his arms up to protect his head.
I charge forward, shouldering him in the stomach and forcing him to the ground. His back has barely hit the linoleum flooring before I’m on him. I rip his bandana down, exposing his face, but pay it no mind. One of my hands slams down on his jaw, applying as much pressure as I possibly can, forcing the bone to pop beneath my grip causing him to whimper like the little bitch he is. Using the other hand, I pry his mouth apart and swipe my fingers along his gums. I shoot him a victorious grin when I feel it.
“You should tell your boss to never use the same tactic twice in a row. It’s lazy and honestly, pretty fucking insulting.” I rip my saliva-covered fingers from his mouth and toss the cyanide pill across the room before arcing back and swinging my fist at his face, rendering him thoroughly unconscious.
Leaning forward, I take a minute to get my breathing under control as I pant from exertion and adrenaline. I knew I shouldn’t have left the damn house today. Gritting my teeth, I look up to check on Aldo and find him already sweeping up the glass as though nothing happened. Jesus.Either he’s jaded from seeing shit like this in his neighborhood, or he’s far more suited to mafia life than I’d ever known.
“You owe me a new skylight,” he snaps without looking away from his task. I chuckle and heft myself to stand just as the front door bursts open. I glance over my shoulder, finding Rico and Garrett, two of our trained guards, bloody and sweating as they take in the disarray of the shop.
“Fuck, Boss. Everything okay in here?” Garrett asks, a sheepish look on his face. He palms the back of his neck, likely preparing for some sort of punishment. Most of the guards have been around since my father was in charge and he was just as quick to throw a punch as he was to slaughter those who pissed him off.
Sighing, I gesture toward the fucker on the floor and begin to hand out orders. We can have a thorough recap when we aren’t all standing in the middle of a public bloodbath. “Gar, tie him up and take him to the SUV out back. Do not let anything happen to him. He needs to get back to the interrogation room breathing and in one piece.” I send him a scathing glare that has him immediately snapping into action.
Looking at Rico, I say, “Call Javier and have him take care of whatever mess you all left behind, and then you and Paulo need to help Aldo in here.”
Turning my back on Rico, I face the man himself and can’t help the chuckle that escapes me. He’s only 5’2, if that, yet he’s glaring at me as though I’m an insignificant spec on the bottom of his shoe. I cock a brow at him, knowing he won’t stay silent much longer, and buckle in for the reprimand from the only grandfather I’ve ever known.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Present
“Violet?”Thenameescapesme unintentionally in a thick rasp. I cough, clearing my throat as I try to process the two people standing before me.
Violet.
Violet is here, in my home.
Violet is here, in my home with a bloody Eli, staring at me like…I can’t even comprehend the expression on her face.
