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“I feel the same. I never thought I’d find someone who wants me as much as you do.”
“Need, Tinks. I need you.”
We stand there for a moment, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, oblivious to the world outside. It’s a rare moment of peace and serenity amidst the storm of our lives, and I cherish it and him deeply.
35
CIARÁN
We step into the dimly lit Angel pub, the pungent smell of stale beer assaulting my senses. The floor creaks beneath me, sticky with years of spilled drinks and grime. Tattered posters plaster the walls while a jukebox in the corner screeches out an old rock ballad. The atmosphere is heavy, thick with tension.
Mark’s betrayal still stings like a fresh wound that refuses to heal. It’s time to reassert my dominance, remind everyone who’s really in charge here. I stride further into the pub, shoulders squared, and chin lifted. My hard expression leaves no room for doubt—I won’t tolerate disloyalty or disrespect from anyone.
“Ciarán,” a gruff voice calls out from behind the bar. A burly man with a salt-and-pepper beard wipes down the counter with a rag; his eyes narrowed as he sizes me up, shoving a shot of whiskey toward me. Striding over, I raise my hand and smack it with my palm all the way down the bar so it splashes all over, the glass shattering as it crashes to the floor.
Summer jumps next to me, but she stays, so I haven’t scared her yet.
I will. Of that, I have absolutely no doubt. She stands behind me in that gorgeous dress; her head held high.
“Not today, Paddy,” I say calmly, having the attention of every person in the pub. Someone pulls the plug on the jukebox, and it goes silent. The men,mymen, stare at me, waiting for my next move. Neither of the traitors who came to the warehouse are in their midst.
“You all heard about Mark?” My tone is icy and unwavering, my gaze scanning the room for any signs of dissent. I need these people to fall in line to see what happens when someone betrays me. With each step I take, my resolve hardens, my anger simmering just below the surface.
Grabbing the first fucker in reach, I haul him to his feet, my fist tight in his shirt.
“C!” he exclaims. “I swear, I didn’t know anything about Mark.”
“Right now, I don’t give a fuck about Mark. He’s been sent to the ninth circle,” I spit out with a growl, my hand clamping around his neck. “You were all planning a coup.”
“No!” he says, his eyes widening. “I swear. It wasn’t me.”
“I’ve got your fucking attention now, don’t I, Joey?” I squeeze his neck tighter, choking him in warning. “All I ever asked for was your loyalty, you lying cunts. I’ve done everything for you, and this is how you fucking repay me. You want this place at the helm, you have to go through me, and I’m going to show you how this is done.”
Taking two steps back, I slam my knee into his stomach, and air leaves his lungs with a whoosh.
“That’s a taste of what you can expect,” I say, my voice hard and menacing. “Every single motherfucker in this shit hole will know what happens when you cross me.” Balling my hand into a fist, I smash it into Joey’s face.
I feel the bone break beneath my knuckles, and he cries out in pain.
Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.
My men have taken a few steps back, and they’re crowded into a corner, muttering to themselves in worried whispers.
“You want to threaten me, want to take me down?” I ask, feeling my anger boiling over. “Then let’s do this. Because after I’ve kicked your ass, you, Sam, are fucking next!” I point at the terrified man who was unlucky enough to be singled out by me. “You will all fall back in line because I am king here. Do you hear me?” I kick Joey again, slamming my foot into his knee.
He screams in pain, and I revel in it. I lap up the fear and the humiliation on their faces. That’s what they deserve. That’s what they get for thinking they can come at me and win. They want a test of strength? Well, today is that fucking day.
I pull my knife from my boot and fling it across the room at Sam’s face. He ducks, and it sails over his head to bury deep in the wall. It vibrates, the hum is the only noise.
No one touches it.
“I don’t fucking play. Do you hear me?” I roar, my eyes blazing. “You’re going to fucking back the fuck off!”
“I’m loyal to you,” Sam answers, his voice shaking. “I was never going against you. It was always Mark.”
Striding forward and grabbing him by the collar, I slam his body onto a table. He crashes to the ground, the hard wood thrumming through his body.
“You will not speak to me of loyalty,” I snarl. “You and the rest of this miserable fucking lot will learn what loyalty means.”
