Page 104 of Mob Star

“Do you want us to take what we find?” It’s Dillan’s decision, so everyone knows who I direct that question to.

“Bujar needs to tell us what it is. It might not be worth it.”

“I think I know.” Brandon’s not hesitant to chime in, but he’s not boasting either.

He looks at me, and I nod. He can either volunteer it or wait for one of us to ask. The former would be better since the others don’t know him, and I’m just getting to know him. It’s not a good idea to make any of us beg for information.

“The Albanians want the O’Malleys to launder money for them through their construction companies. In exchange, the O’Malleys sell more product to them. They then pass that product along to the bratva, who sell it at a ridiculously high price in Europe. I don’t know if Rowan knew the Russians were pulling the Albanians’ strings, and he wanted the deal to mess with you. Or he truly was that ignorant, not caring what happened to the coke once he got paid. My guess is the Boston Irish are skimming at least twenty-five percent off whatever the Albanians want laundered, and they’re saving that to make another move on you.”

I laugh. “Ewan will take at least thirty percent if not more. He has titanium balls. He’s not scared of the Albanians like he should be since he just took the reins. They’re bloodthirsty. Plenty of people won’t go near them because they’re so damn insular and secretive. The best anyone can hope for is a blood feud starts among their families, and another syndicate can capitalize on it.”

Sean’s been quiet so far, but I know he has plenty of thoughts on anything related to the bratva. “That’s what the Kutsenkos are betting on. With three leaders in as many years, and none of them particularly strong. The bratva’s hoping with the Kurti family wrestling power away from the Hoxhas and them supporting the Kurtis, it’ll start a blood feud between the two Albanian clans. The bratva will put enough oil on the fire for the Kurtis and Hoxhas to destroy each other, leaving the bratva with even more power.”

“Complicated.” Brandon mutters the word, but we all hear it. I don’t blame him. Maybe I can sorta explain it.

“If you think of the various international regions as wheels, the Four Families are the hubs. All the lesser syndicates are spokes. Now, imagine the four wheels are all racing downhill, bumping into each other and crashing. The goal is always to send your wheel on the straightest, fastest path without falling over. But while you’re in this race, the finish line keeps moving, so the four wheels take turns being in the lead.”

Brandon nods his head, so I guess that means my analogy made at least a little sense.

“Cormac, Seamus, how long will it take to get that information from your CIs?”

Dillan’s probably thought of four plans while he’s been quiet. That means he’s also thought of their permutations for how things could go wrong with each one and the needed solutions.

“Give us a day. Right, Shay?”

“Yeah. I already sent a text to Bujar, saying we need to meet.”

“Brandon, when is all of this supposed to happen?” Sean’s probably already hacking Sergei’s and Anton’s computers. I’m a strong hacker, but it’s mostly in the financial realm. Once we fully decide what to do, I’ll be the one who makes the money disappear.

“In five days. Finn said Corey is still in the city. He told me he was headed back to Boston until this rendezvous. My guess is he thinks I’ll let my guard down, and he’ll be here and ready to spring the trap.”

That’s my guess too. We finish the conversation with a couple more logistical concerns, but we have everything in place for now. We end the call, and I’m left staring at Brandon.

“You might get the kill shot, Bandon. But I deal with Corey first. If you can’t handle seeing the worst things you can imagine one person doing to another, you won’t be the one to kill him.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Thea

It’s been a subdued three days compared to how things have been. They’ve been what normal couples would consider the usual. For us, it’s been bliss. Nothing’s happened, so Finn and I are inseparable. It’s a fairytale come true. He’s charming without trying, and he’s incredibly considerate. I don’t think it’s to woo me. I think that’s just who he is. We’ve cooked together, cleaned together— apparently, none of the guys have maids because their mothers guilt them out of it —and fall asleep in each other’s arms. We’ve taken more naps than either of us has since we were toddlers. And sex. Lots and lots and lots and lots of sex. And then some more.

The one downer was a call from Maria Mancinelli. She warned me about some imaging results Jamie and Asher were going to get. She couldn’t be specific because of HIPPA, even if no one in my family nor I would ever report it. At the end of the call, she brought up Finn. She didn’t explicitly warn me away, but the meaning was clear. I was as polite as I could be when I told her to mind her own fucking business. She’s a friend, and she was looking out for me. I can appreciate it, but part of me wondered if the men in her family put her up to it just to spite Finn.

I reminded myself that Maria is not someone anyone can force. She won’t do what she won’t do, especially if she thinks it’ll hurt someone else. Now I might know that she’s a Mafia daughter— Finn said no woman in any of the syndicates wants to be called a princess —and married to a mafioso, but she’s still one of the very most kindest people in the world. Like as kind as anyone could be.

Besides that, and the looming issue with Uncle Corey, it’s been wonderful. I don’t think it’s because Finn and I have been on our best behavior to impress each other. I think we just live well together. We like the same things, and we often think of the same things. The mind reading is uncanny. Sometimes I can’t find even a smidge of a hint to what he’s feeling. I know not to push that. He’s had a few calls that made him reserved when he came out of his office. He said he hadn’t a clue what the conversation was about that I had with Maria because I was just as reserved. Finn said he likes not knowing what I’m thinking because if he can’t guess, then no one can. It’ll come in handy.

I’m meeting his parents tonight, and I’m only mildly petrified. His father is a mobster, and his mother is married to one and raised three. What if I completely underwhelm them? We’re back at his place right now after spending last night at my apartment, and I’m staring at the closet with the clothes I brought over yesterday. As though meeting his parents isn’t enough, it’s Sunday dinner. That means all of them will be there. Finn’s brothers and cousins plus Mair and Finn’s parents. But that’s not all. Oh no, let’s toss in his two uncles and two aunts.

“Little one, you could go in a paper bag, and they’ll still love you.”

Finn wraps his arms around my waist and holds me against him. He kisses my shoulder before pulling my towel off me. I reach for a shirt, but he turns me away. Without a word, he guides me to the bed and sits. He opens his legs and points to the floor. I drop to my knees and open my mouth. He presses my head forward as he guides his cock to my mouth.

“Warm it. Cailín, they will adore you for you. You’re everything any parent could hope for their child’s partner. You’re genuine, and they will know that the second they meet you. You don’t need to put on a show to impress anyone. Just be you. They know how important you are to me. They know our future is together. They’ll be happy for us. I know you’re nervous. I was practically queasy meeting your parents, but it will go well. I promise. Suck.”

We’ve kept going with the free use, and it’s been wonderful for both of us. I’ve never felt more desired and needed in my life. Finn enjoys letting me know how much I mean to him. Anyone looking in from the outside would argue it’s pure lust. But it doesn’t feel like that. Yes, sometimes we just want to bang. But even when we’re into bondage or impact play or whatever else, the emotions run deep.

He pulls away and helps me to my feet before guiding me to lie with my chest and stomach on the mattress. He spanks me. Hard. Like enough to push me forward on the mattress. He does it four more times until I’m dancing from one foot to another. He squeezes my left ass cheek until I whimper. He doesn’t let go, and I don’t want him to. He hovers over me.

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