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I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.
“Fine. I’ll be there.”
He hung up and looked back over at me. I could feel his intense gaze on me for a few moments before that cocky smirk made its way back on his face and he headed for the door. I realized the necklace was still in my hand, draped over several fingers.
“But you gave this to me when you thought we’d be endgame. Isn’t this for who you think you’ll marry?”
I knew Lorcan and Conor had been given one too from their father, and I remember seeing their mother wearing one.
“We are endgame, Sloane.”
He left the cottage, and me reeling. Once his car tore out of my driveway and away, I suddenly felt like I could breathe again as I sat down on the couch and willed my pussy to go back into a dormant stance.
Fucking Killian O’Farrell.
KILLIAN
I pulledinto the parking lot of the warehouse and got out, making sure my gun was loaded. My man Omar was in charge of this part of my business, and he was usually unstoppable but lately, he was having issues with a new drug running power popping up in England who thinks they run Ireland too. I’d taken out every single one of them they sent over here to scope us out, but it seemed they had a bigger operation than we did. Opening the back door, I headed inside to see the operation going smoothly. The marajuana and cocaine divisions of my business were working well. I refused to deal in meth, but I knew I was going to have to do it eventually. My ecstasy operation was at a different warehouse.
“O.”
Omar turned around, relieved.
“I locked them up in the back room.”
I nodded and headed inside, Omar by my side for the backup I knew I wouldn’t need. As I kicked open the door, I saw the two men, their hands tied behind their back all but shit themselves, one even fell off his chair and landed with a thud on the cement floor.
I held back the laugh as I closed the door behind us and made sure they saw my gun before I stood against the wall. The single lightbulb in the room was swinging from side to side casting an eerie glow over the room.
“Get up,” Omar growled as he pulled the guy up and put him back on the chair as hard as possible.
“Who sent you here?” I asked them, calmly.
Silence.
Omar circled them like a shark, and I could see the fear written all over their faces, even though they tried to hide it.
“I won’t ask again.”
“No one sent us,” one of them quivered. “We came alone.”
“I don’t quite believe that,” I replied. “Now, come on, don’t make me torture you before I kill you.”
They shared a look and I could see some kind of shield coming down between them. Omar continued his stalking, getting closer and closer with every circle he made around them. The pressure was mounting for them to tell me, and they knew it. There was no way I could let them live after the disrespect they had caused my family.
“Lukas Porter.”
“What was that?” I asked, pushing off the side wall and coming closer.
“Lukas Porter,” he said with a firm voice. “He is who sent us here.”
“Shut your hole, Peter.”
I turned my attention to the one who had fallen off his chair and was now staring daggers at the loose lipped one. Pulling out my gun, I shot at the one who was trying to silence Peter, blood trickling from his head wound.
Peter looked at me now, his fear showing.
“Tell me about Lukas.”
