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“So, brother, spill it. What am I getting myself into? There’s no turning back now, so no more keeping things from me.”
“Just add bribery, gambling, counterfeiting, and prostitution to this list of rackets I mentioned earlier. Not sure how much of these operations I want us to maintain. We have an opportunity to shift our involvement. We will need to vet our clan members again. We have to let some members go. I will use my transition to chief as an excuse. I will say that I want to make some modifications to our clan business and reduce our operations.”
“You know that in itself will cause enemies. They will just go to the other Irish clans and feed them our intel,” Kai warns.
“That’s why it will be even more important to change up how we do things. If that’s their reaction, they weren’t loyal to begin with. We can’t operate in fear, brother. If we’re going to rise to the top, we have to be strategic and not be afraid to start over. We will reign victorious in this unannounced war. They won’t realize that the battle has commenced until it’s too late. And to be completely clear,theyis everyone who isn’t our immediate family until proven otherwise.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “I wish Dad could see us now. We will rise and the ones responsible for their deaths will pay. What’s our first step in this war?”
“We’re on the third step, brother. I’ve already implemented the first two.”
CHAPTER SIX
Aurora
Iwrap the satin robe around me tighter as Mr. Carson escorts me down the granite floating steps. I wasn’t given much choice other than I had been summoned by thelordshipof the house. His grip tightens around my bicep as we descend. I don’t want him to inject me again, so I don’t resist his hold. The textured stone is surprisingly smooth beneath my bare feet. I let my gaze roam this space for the first time as I work to steady my nervousness. The black walls and strategic placements of reflected light balances well with the unique chandeliers and beautiful decor pieces. The filtered darkness throughout this home is both moody and brilliant. Even under my current duress, my love for art and interior design is piqued. We reach the bottom step that flows left into a sunken dining room. My captor sits at the head of an eight-person rustic walnut table— his leg crossed at the knee as he sips on his black coffee in a clear mug. Mr. Carson walks me right up to him and takes a step back, finally releasing my arm.
“That will be all, Oisín. Thank you,” his lordship dismisses.
“Yes. Mr. Carson,” I taunt, even after now learning his actual name is Oisín. “You can go.”
He ignores my jab, leaving me to stand before this other controlling prick.
“Sit,” he orders. These one-word commands are the most annoying fucking thing ever. “Or I can make you,” he finishes.
“The choices thing again, right?”
“Good to know you’re not completely dense,” he remarks.
I roll my eyes, but take a seat in the chair beside him anyway. I’m not in the mood to verbally spar with him, and I’m more than exhausted from my few hours of sleep last night. I didn’t make the whole night without sleeping, but I held out as long as I could.
A woman appears wearing the same uniform that Fiona was wearing last night. She is notably older with several gray hairs tucked neatly in a bun. She places a tray with an assortment of food on the table before pushing one small plate in front of him and the rest in front of me—eggs, pancakes, sausage, fruit, orange juice, and milk. There is no way I could eat all of this, even if I was willing to eat any of it.
“No, thank you,” I say. “I’m not hungry.” My growling stomach picks this moment to betray me.
“My patience is wearing thin, principessa,” he warns. “And I’m not a very patient man to begin with.”
“Why do you call me that? This is like the second time?” It could be more.
“Because you’re an Italian princess— a Valentini princess to the most powerful Italian Mafia family in New York.” He smirks, his tone menacing and condescending. “Now fucking eat. You refused my food once before last night. I won’t keep having my hospitality crapped on.”
“Look at all this food? Why is it that you only have a peanut butter sandwich? How old are you? Five?”
I know I’m probably poking the bear, but I’m still annoyed with his princess comment. I’m not his princess. Only my father can call me that.
He doesn’t answer. Instead he is on his feet within seconds, yanking me to mine. “Fiona,” he yells.
She comes running, her face flushed. “What can I do for you, sir?” she asks.
“I need to show this ungrateful captive what happens when you don’t obey. If she doesn’t want to eat, then I can think of some alternative uses for that smart mouth of hers. Teach her!”
What the fuu… I don’t finish the thought. I feel the pressure of Fiona’s foot to the back of my leg, and I go down, falling to my knees before him.
“Unzip him,” she instructs, gesturing toward his dress pants.
“What? Hell no!” I say with more confidence than I possess right now. How is this even the same girl?
“Take out his cock,” she warns.
