Page 48 of Earn Me

Keiran

THE MOMENT THE SECURITYalarm had gone off in his penthouse, Keiran had known it was the Castellos.

Three men in the lobby.

Two more circling the building.

Professionals, but sloppy enough to trigger the silent alarm he'd installed after Cadence left.

Instead of retreating to safety, Keiran had headed straight for the garage. He knew exactly where to intercept them. Harbour Locke was his territory, and he'd mapped out every possible hiding place an enemy might use—the abandoned shipping warehouse on the waterfront being the most obvious choice for outsiders who didn't know the area.

He'd had it wired and monitored for precisely this scenario.

By the time Keiran parked two blocks away and approached on foot, night had fallen. The warehouse loomed against the skyline, and through his phone, he watched the thermal signatures of the Castellos moving inside—exactly where he'd expected them to regroup after their failed attempt at his penthouse.

He entered through a service door, the security system recognizing and admitting him silently. They thought they were choosing the battleground, but they'd walked into his trap instead.

"We know you're here, de Laigny," Benny's voice echoed through the cavernous space. "Your men failed to stop us at your apartment. What makes you think you're any safer here?"

Keiran didn't bother answering. Instead, he moved deeper into the warehouse, past stacked shipping containers and rusted machinery. The arrogance of these men, thinking they had the upper hand in his own territory.

Three years ago, he wouldn't have walked into such an obvious trap alone. But three years ago, he'd had something to live for. Something to protect. Now she was gone, safe under Marchetti's protection—a fact that burned him more than he cared to admit.

Four men emerged from the shadows, guns trained on him. Keiran assessed them with a practiced eye. Young. Nervous. Expendable. Behind them stood Benny, flanked by his older brother Berto.

"You have balls, I'll give you that," Berto said, his voice raspier than Keiran remembered. "Coming here alone."

"Who says I'm alone?" Keiran replied, his voice cold.

Benny laughed. "Your bluff is almost as pathetic as your attempt to protect those Quinns. You should've let us have them. They're nothing to you."

"They're family."

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but it served its purpose. The Castellos believed he'd claimed the Quinns out of obligation. Let them.

"Family?" Berto scoffed. "They treated you like garbage when you were nobody. Now that you're somebody, you protect them? You're softer than I thought."

"Or maybe I'm exactly who you fear I am."

Keiran's hand moved to his pocket, retrieving not a weapon—as the Castellos' men clearly expected from the way they tensed—but a phone. He tapped it once, and the warehouse filled with red laser dots, blossoming across the Castellos' chests like deadly flowers.

"What the—"

Benny's face drained of color as he realized how completely he'd miscalculated.

"You should've known better, Benny," Keiran said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "This is my territory. And people only walk out of my territory alive...if I say so."

"This is a mistake," Berto stammered, his earlier arrogance vanishing. "We can negotiate—"

"Can we?" A new voice cut through the tension, smooth as silk and cold as ice.

The Castellos froze. Their men exchanged terrified glances.

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