Page 7 of Taming a Ruthless Heart

“Alexia,” he utters under his breath, his voice low and steady, but there’s an edge to it, something dangerous simmering beneath the surface.

I swallow hard, my pulse quickening as he takes a step inside and closes the door behind him with a resolute clink.My body tenses, but not with fear.There’s something else—a pull, a memory of the man I once loved, my first and only.The man I’ve been trying to forget.But he’s not that man anymore.He’s different now, hardened by the world he lives in.

“We need to talk,” he says, his gaze never leaving mine.

And I know that whatever he’s about to say will change everything forever.

3

Dave

The roar of my motorcycle echoes off the concrete walls of the empty warehouse as I roll in, parking beside my brothers’ bikes.My leather jacket creaks as I swing my leg over the seat.After hours on the road, the tightness of my jeans against my thighs becomes uncomfortable.My gun digs into my back, tucked securely in the waist of my jeans, a familiar weight.As I pull it free, my fingers graze the worn grip, the cold metal grounding me in the chaos.

We’ve spent the last twelve hours chasing dead ends, tracking down every lead we could find on Alina, Alexia’s nanny.The second I step closer to where my brothers stand, the truth of the situation hits me like a punch to the gut.

We are too fucking late.

The warehouse is bathed in harsh fluorescent light that casts a cold glow over everything.Exposed rafters form a skeletal grid above.The resin-coated floor is spotless, reflecting the lights overhead.The brightness stings my eyes, making the air feel sharp, suffocating, as if there’s no place to escape from the glare.

I look up, the rafters looming high above, their steel beams cutting through the light like cold, hard lines.The sheer openness of the space makes me feel small, exposed.There’s nowhere to hide, nothing hidden in shadows.Everything is too bright, too bare.My jaw tightens, my pulse quickens.The place is wrong—too clean for what just happened, too stark for the violence that hangs in the air.

The metallic, sharp stench of death hits me.Sweet old Alina is dead.

Her naked body sways gently from a hook in the rafters.Her hands are tied above her head, her feet dangle above the ground.Blood drips in thick, sticky pools beneath her, the glistening trail of countless stab wounds still fresh.Igor’s signature brutality is on full display.Her death was undignified.Slow.Prolonged.Excruciating.

My stomach churns, and my fists clench at my sides, the sleeves of my jacket pulling tight across my forearms.Rage simmers just below the surface, begging for release, but I grit my teeth until my jaw hurts to keep my emotions in check.Every part of me screams to break something—anything—but I know that won’t bring her back.Alina is gone, just another innocent crushed under Igor’s boot in his twisted game.

Besides, I have to consider my position as leader of the Boyle family, the Irish Brotherhood, and the Syndicate.I can’t come off as unhinged as I feel.

I turn to face Tommy, who stands a few feet away, his tall frame rigid, arms crossed over his broad chest.His jacket is similar to mine but darker, more worn, and stretches over his muscles like a second skin.His face is set in a hard mask, blue eyes glinting with icy fury.He doesn’t speak; he doesn’t need to.We’re all thinking the same thing: Igor is a step ahead.Again.

Shelby steps beside me, his stance unmistakably military.He’s still got the build of a Marine—tall and lean, his body always ready for action.His army-green shirt is rolled up, revealing muscular forearms and a faded tattoo from his days in service.His jaw is clenched, the tension clear in every line of his face as his blue eyes scan the blood-soaked scene before him.“He’s not stopping until he has everything,” he mutters, his voice low and controlled, but I can see the same fury bubbling beneath the surface.“Alina… She was just… She didn’t deserve this.”

“None of them do.Igor’s a soulless devil,” I say, my voice tight, struggling to keep my emotions from spilling out.“We’re too late for her, but not for Alexia.She’s next on Igor’s list.”I stop talking to draw a deep breath.As I exhale, I manage to get my temper under control enough to express my wayward thoughts.“Alexia didn’t have a chance to tell me much when she called and asked for help.She only mentioned that she and her daughter Rose were in danger.We have to find out what’s going on.”

Tommy nods grimly.His thick arms uncross and his fists tighten at his sides, the worn leather of his jacket creaking with the movement.“We need to be quicker.Smarter.Igor’s playing chess while we’re still catching up.”

“He’s too many moves ahead of us,” Shelby says.When he crosses his arms, the muscles in his forearms flex, and his tension becomes clear in every line of his body.

I stare up at Alina’s body again, at the bloodied mess of her, and tighten my grip on the handle of my gun.“This is a deadly game we can’t afford to lose,” I say, turning to face my brothers.“We can’t let this happen again.”

Tommy pulls out his phone, already scrolling through his contacts with practiced ease.His fingers move quickly over the screen.“I’ll call our allies in the Syndicate.Someone always knows something.”

Shelby nods and heads toward his bike, his steps heavy, his hand gripping the keys tightly.“I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Shelby, before you go, call our men.I want Alina’s body removed and taken care of.I want a proper burial with the respect and honor she deserves.”

My brother salutes me.“On it, boss.”

I nod in acknowledgment and turn to leave.

I can’t stay here, not with Alina’s body strung above me as a gruesome warning.My chest is tight, my thoughts too loud.I need to move.To act.

When I get to my motorcycle, I glance at my brothers over my shoulder and with a clenched jaw I say, “You handle this part of the plan.I’ll cover my end.Let me know what you find.”

I kick my bike into gear and tear out of the warehouse.The image of Alina’s mutilated body is burned into the back of my mind.Every mile I cover, the need for vengeance claws at me.I can feel the weight of this fight pressing down on me—Rose’s and Alexia’s fates are tangled in this mess.

I won’t let Igor take anything more from me.

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