Page 61 of Mafia Crown

I don’t need him to elaborate. If Hazel so much as stumbles, she’s dead.

“So we’re done?” I ask, already knowing this isn’t the outcome I wanted. But at least Hazel gets to live.

Patrick turns back to me, eyes assessing, calculating. Then, finally, he nods.

I reach for Hazel’s hand, ready to leave, but Patrick speaks again.

“One small detail, Kieran.”

My gut tightens. My mind races. What did I miss?

The door swings open, and a woman steps in. Long, flowing blonde hair. Wide eyes that sweep the room before zeroing in on Hazel.

“Hazel,” she screeches.

Hazel rips her hand from mine and dashes toward her.

“Mary,” Hazel says.

They collide in an embrace, Hazel sobbing into the woman’s shoulder. Mary doesn’t cry. She stares at me over Hazel’s head, her expression unreadable.

Patrick takes a slow drag from his cigar, his smirk widening. “The small detail is Mary,” he says. “She recognized your voice.”

Fuck.

Hazel pulls back from Mary, her hands still gripping her arms as if to ground her. “Kieran didn’t take me,” she says, her voice steady despite the tension crackling in the room. She shifts her gaze to Patrick. “It was Sean.”

Mary’s fingers tighten on Hazel’s face, forcing her to look at her. “I heard his voice, Hazel,” she insists. “Did he threaten you to say that?”

Hazel shakes her head violently, stepping back. “He’s the only reason I’m alive, Mary. You know me. Look at me.” Her voice wavers, but the conviction in her eyes is unwavering. “He kept me alive when several men tried to kill me. I’d be dead if not for him.”

Mary watches her closely, her eyes scanning Hazel’s face for any sign of deception. Slowly, she turns her gaze to Patrick. “She’s telling the truth about that.”

Patrick exhales through his nose, flicking the cigar from his fingers before crushing it under his shoe with deliberate slowness. Then, his gaze slides back to me, calculating.

“So, where is my one million euro?”

My pulse stays even, but my brain works double time. A part of me is ready to offer it back just to smooth this over, but that would be a mistake. That would prove guilt.

“I’m sure there’s a way to track it,” I say with a shrug, keeping my tone casual.

Patrick’s expression doesn’t shift. “I’ve tried, but it’s some offshore account that I can’t track. Sean was very clever.”

Sean was many things—reckless, unpredictable, a liability. But clever? That was a stretch. Still, I nod as if in agreement. “He clearly was.”

Patrick exhales loudly, his patience thinning.

“Mary, Kieran is one of the good guys in this,” Hazel says, still fighting in my corner when she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t understand how this works. Patrick knows. I know. Everyone but Hazel knows. I won’t admit what I did, but the fact that I’m still breathing means Patrick wants something from me.

“The evidence against the O’Donnell gang is clear,” Patrick says. “I’ve always suspected them.”

“It’s all there for you,” I reply.

Patrick’s lips twitch, but there’s no amusement. “It’s all there for you,” he repeats. Then he leans in slightly, his presence a force, a reminder of the power he holds over this room. “That’s the price, Kieran. Wipe them out, and I’ll let this small betrayal slide.”

My jaw tightens as I weigh options I don’t have. There’s no way out of this. I either accept, or I die.

Hazel senses the shift, stepping closer to me. “Hazel can stay with me in France,” Mary offers, squeezing Hazel’s hand. It’s a lifeline, an escape. But Hazel doesn’t take it. She pulls away.

---