Page 59 of The DeLuca Crime Family: Vol. 1

“But what if I need to call someone?”

“Use mine.”

“What if someone needs to call me?”

“You and I both know McKinnon was the only one who had that number. Now he has mine.”Stupid logic.

“But—” I sputtered. I wasn’t sure what I was even going to say next. It didn’t matter anyway because Brandon didn’t give me the chance. He picked me up and set me on the counter, stepping between my legs and pulling me tight against his body.

“If McKinnon is on the up and up, you won’t need to use a burner again anyway because your dad will be out of the picture.”

All thoughts of Brandon’s high-handedness and lack of condom usage flew out the window. I knew Tommy was trustworthy, which meant my da’s days were numbered.

My da’sarrogance was ultimately his downfall. He’d never once considered the possibility that one of his trusted men would betray him to the DeLucas, not even after his own daughter had done so. The hunt took only a day after the tip from Tommy. My da had been moving from safe-house to safe-house within the city, never straying far from home. He knew Nic was putting all of his considerable resources behind the search, but even that wasn’t enough to make my da leave town. The stubborn ass thought he was invincible.

Hell, he’d had me convinced he couldn’t be defeated, as well. I had stayed under his control and miserable because of it. All that time wasted when I could have been living life, happy and whole.No more.Pat O’Reilly’s hold over me was going to end tonight. And so was his certainty that he couldn’t be taken down by anyone. He was about to learn his fall had come about because of a mere woman—me.

My grip on Brandon’s hand tightened, making him stop in his tracks as we stood outside the door which led from Nic’s offices to the warehouse in the back of his building. My head shot up, and I watched as his expression morphed from looking like his face had been carved from stone to the gentleness I was growing accustomed to seeing. A softness he allowed only when it was directed at me, which made me appreciate it even more.

“You don’t have to go in there,” he reminded me. “Even though he doesn’t deserve the title, he’s your father. If it’s gonnahurt you to see him like this, I’d rather you didn’t. Let me take care of him for you.”

I beamed up at him, smiling wide enough that I seemed to startle Bran with my reaction to his offer. But as absurd as it sounded considering the circumstances, some of the heaviness in my heart lifted—and it was all due to this man. His love had set me free from the chains my da had wrapped around me, even more so than my running had done... and he hadn’t even used those three little words yet.

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured him. “As long as I have you by my side, I can handle anything.”

An odd mixture of male satisfaction, pride, and hunger flared in his eyes. I didn’t get to appreciate it for long because he wrapped his arms around my back and lifted me up as he lowered his head to claim my mouth in a deep kiss. His lips crashed against mine, our tongues tangling with each other as he held me suspended in the air. I didn’t know how long it lasted, but by the time he set me back on my feet, my lips felt bruised and I was out of breath. Raising a hand to my mouth, I giggled.

“Not exactly the reaction I was hoping to get, kitten,” he growled, smiling down at me.

“Can’t help it,” I gasped. “Knowing I’m about to walk in there, where my da is tied to a chair—probably after having been roughed up a bit already—with my lips swollen from your kisses.”

“I don’t see what’s so funny about that,” he grumbled. “If I had my way, this is a look you’d wear every minute of the day.”

“I’m just appreciating the poetic justice of the moment,” I explained. “You make me happy, something every father should want for his daughter. Not mine, though. He’s more than proven he couldn’t care less about my happiness. Seeing me like this when he learns I had a hand in his capture? It’s icing on the fucking cake.”

“Then let’s get this done. The sooner it’s over, the faster I can get you back in my bed and demonstrate how wrong that old saying goes—you really can have your cake and eat it too.”

The hunger in his eyes left me without any doubt that my pussy was the cake he planned to eat. I walked into a DeLuca warehouse with Brandon’s hand wrapped protectively around mine, my cheeks flushed and lips swollen...and my panties wet. It was inappropriate as hell, but well worth it when my da’s eyes bugged out at the sight of me.

I couldn’t understand what he was saying behind the gag stuffed in his mouth, but it was probably for the best since I recognized his look of fury. It’s one I’d seen enough times growing up. I slowed my pace, giving him a little time to simmer down, and waited for the purple color to recede from his face before I pulled my hand from Brandon’s grasp and approached my da. They’d made sure he wasn’t a risk to me before I entered the room, tying his hands behind his back and each of his ankles to a chair leg. When I stopped before him, I lifted my chin to one of Nic’s guys and he promptly removed the gag.

“Hey, Da,” I murmured in an awkward greeting, because really, what was the etiquette for situations like this?

“I cahn’t believe me own dahtter would betray me loik dis,” he muttered. “Yah’ve signed me death warrant, girlie.”

“It’s not like you gave me any other choice, Da. You betrayed me first. I know what you had planned for me. Does ‘keeping me in line with a firm hand’ sound familiar? Or how about me ‘finding myself sayin’ Hail Marys on my way to hell’?”

He didn’t bother denying he’d said those things or defending himself. He just sat there staring at me, and I didn’t like the crafty light that entered his eyes. It made me think maybe he had another card up his sleeve. It was about damn time I delivered the final blow, before he understood there was no way out of this mess for him except for in a body bag. Nic had given me theperfect weapon, too, when he’d asked me to take my da’s spot as head of the family. Although it had sounded crazy when he’d suggested it, Brandon had been pretty damn convincing when he brought it up again later. I hadn’t been fully convinced it was the best plan—for me or my family—but looking down upon my da while he was strapped to a chair and completely helpless gave me a new perspective. I sure as shit could do a better job than he’d done, especially with Brandon at my side.

“Besides which, your death warrant is exactly what I need so I can step into your shoes.”

“Yer a fecking riot, girlie. Dere’s na way in hell ya can step intah me shoes. De O’Reillys’ll never be led by a woomahn.”

“Oh yeah?” I murmured. “It’s too bad you won’t be around to watch it because that’s exactly what’s going to happen when you’re gone. Maybe the devil will let you take a peek at me as the O’Reilly boss while you burn in hell. I bet it’d be the perfect way to torture you, wouldn’t it?”

The purple crept into his cheeks again as he sputtered. There wasn’t anything he had to say that I wanted to hear, so I yanked the gag back into place and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “The O’Reillysaregoing to be led by a woman.Me.And the first thing I’m going to do is move our family out of the slave trade. Then we’re going to get out of drugs, too. The best part is knowing there isn’t a damn thing you’ll be able to do about it except roll over in your grave.”

The way I taunted my da right before he met his maker might make me a bitch, but I could live with that. In fact, it was probably for the best since I was about to step into his shoes.

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