AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And, as much as I want to, I also want to be strategic about it. I'd rather not sacrifice more blood just to get revenge. I'm in charge now, which means deaths are on my conscience and should not be in vain. Besides, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that senseless violence isn't going to be how I ultimately take out the Irish.
"Leave the Irish to me," I say, my voice cold and hard. "I know them better than anyone, and I know how to hit them where it hurts."
"Fuck yeah," someone mutters, and a few others nod in agreement.
"Alright, then. Let's get to –" I'm cut off by the sudden eruption of gunfire from outside, the shots so loud and close that my ears are ringing. Everyone dives for cover, but not before two of our guys are hit, their bodies crumpling to the floor.
"Stay down!" I shout, trying to make myself heard over the carnage. My heart is pounding in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins as I scramble to the nearest window. I peer out, catching a glimpse of the people responsible – and there, among them, is Declan O'Leary himself, the new head of the Westies.
"Son of a bitch," I hiss under my breath, fury boiling inside me. This was supposed to be a fresh start for me, for the family,and now...now this war is confirmed. And if there's one thing I know about war, it's that nobody comes out unscathed.
Sirens wail, their piercing sound cutting through the air like a knife. The Irish scatter, fleeing from the scene with panic written all over their faces.
Sebastian and I manage to make it out without any serious injuries, but two of our guys aren't so lucky. Blood seeps through their clothes, and they moan in pain as we drag them into one of the cars. I grit my teeth, cursing quietly under my breath. This isn't how I planned my first day back in charge.
"Get them to the mansion," I bark at Sebastian, who's already behind the wheel. "Evelyn should be there – she might be able to help."
We speed off, tires screeching on the asphalt.
"Shit, man," Sebastian says, glancing at the rearview mirror. "Those bastards came out of nowhere."
"Tell me about it," I mutter, gripping the door handle tightly. My mind races, trying to come up with a new plan to deal with the Westies. They've crossed a line, and I won't let them get away with it.
"Hey, boss," one of the injured guys groans from the backseat. "You're gonna take care of 'em, right?"
"Damn right I will," I growl, clenching my fists. "They're gonna pay for this, every last one of them."
"Good," he whispers, his voice weak. "I knew you'd have our backs."
As the mansion comes into view, I take a deep breath, bracing myself for what's to come.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I pace the front foyer, fuming. It's been an entire 24-fucking-hours that I've been stuck inside this goddamn place, and I'm really pissed off about it. My phone gave up the ghost hours ago after trying to call Constantino so many times. Any hope of calling my sister to come let me out is toast. Deep down, I know I'm safe – well, at least I figure I am – but being trapped like this? Hell no.
There's plenty of food in the fridge, books to read, TV to watch, but I can't bring myself to relax. What if there's a fire or some shit? No way to get out. I've tried everything: windows, vents, even checking for secret passages like some old detective novel. Nothing works.
"Fuck you, Constantino," I yell, again, flipping my middle finger toward the ceiling. I'm sure he's got cameras in here, but who knows if they have audio. Even if they don't, I hope he sees my message loud and clear.
The front door bursts open, as if responding to my anger, and I spin around. Constantino stumbles through the doorway,looking like hell warmed over. His clothes are bloody, his face haggard, and he's dragging another guy with him who looks far worse for wear. Two more guys follow, one half-carrying, half-dragging the other.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter under my breath, feeling morbid curiosity mix with my frustration. This isn't what I signed up for, but I can't look away from the gory scene unfolding before me. And here I thought my biggest problem was cabin fever.
I take a deep breath, preparing to unleash my fury on Constantino. But looking at the blood and chaos around me, I decide it's better not to get tangled in this mess. Screw this, I think, as I make my way to the door, intent on leaving.
Constantino lays the guy he's holding onto the rug, and I see the bullet wound and blood seeping out. Shit, that's bad. I pause for a second, torn between wanting to bolt and feeling some responsibility to help. But, self-preservation mixed with anger takes over and I make my way toward the door.
"Wait!" Constantino chases after me, his voice strained. He grabs my wrist, and I turn to look at him. There's a look of pure pleading in his eyes that I've never seen before. "Please, don't leave."
"Look, I don't want to be caught up in your mob business," I snap, trying to pull away from his grip. "You know that!"
He nods, desperation etched on his face. "I understand, but if you leave now, these guys will die. They won't make it to the hospital from here, even if I could take them there. We need your help."
Anger boils up inside of me. How dare he put me in this position? "I made it clear I wasn't going to become a mob doctor, Constantino," I growl.
"Please," he implores. "Just this once. We'll talk about it after, I promise."
"Fine," I spit out, brushing past him, heart pounding in my chest. "But there's nothing to discuss afterwards. I'll help this time, and then I'm done. You got that?"
