Page 116 of Cartel King

“Not good enough. Gareth, you better fecking live through whatever hell Enrique puts you through because you do not want what I have planned for you happening to Callum.”

Gareth isn’t married and has no children. His heir is a second cousin, who’s—who was—far more fit to lead. The shit that happened between Seamus and Gareth’s family changed the O’Brien family dynamics. Everyone hoped Callum could talk sense into Gareth, but apparently he didn’t. The guy’s lying dead ten feet from me.

“You’re too late for that, Dillan. Callum’s dead. Alejandro shot him.”

“Then you definitely owe me Gareth. Keep him alive, Enrique. I’m going back to sleep. Call me to arrange the handoff when you’re done.”

Dillan hangs up before I can argue. Arrogant little shit. But I don’t blame him for wanting to sleep next to his wife more than deal with this.

“Save me the time of making two more calls. Save yourself the pain of me hacking off more of you while I do.”

I hand my phone to Joaquin. I turn my knife away from Gareth and use both hands to rip his button-down shirt open. I place the blade just above his left nipple and break the skin. His eyes roll back as I slice. Joaquin’s hand swipes through the air before it lands against Gareth’s cheek, reviving him.

“My uncle didn’t say you could pass out. Wake up.”

“Call Pasha.”

Is it a coincidence they were already giving me a hard time? Was the bratva already watching Ellie before I met her? Did they figure out she took out Ignacio?

“It’s the middle of the fucking night, Enrique. What do you want?”

Doesn’t anyone say hello anymore?

“Why’d you take my sister, Pasha?”

“Which one?”

“Not funny.”

“No. Seriously. Which sister? You must blame me if you’re calling, but I don’t know what the fuck’s going on.”

“Yes, you do. You’re striking out at me for Ignacio.”

“That wasn’t you. I heard some hired gun did it.”

“You’re getting back at me for my connection to that mercenary.”

“You hired Ignacio’s killer?”

That perks him up.

“No, but I know the person.”

“He’s one of your friends?”

He.

Is Pasha playing me?

Most likely.

“You could say that. What do you know about the mercenary?”

“He’s the only one as good as Robert Simms.”

The man was a ghost. He kept most of his money under his mattress and wouldn’t use anything more advanced than a flip phone. He operated for more than thirty years, but he went too far with the Mancinellis. He paid the price for it with a few bullets through him. I heard about it second-hand, but I’m certain the story was downplayed not exaggerated.

“Better.”

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