Page 75 of Mafia Kingdom

In this moment, in this kitchen still warm from the dinner we shared, I allow myself to believe in possibilities I once thought impossible. A future where Marco and I find our way between his world and mine. Where Lily grows up safe and loved. Where the violence that has defined the Walsh family for generations gives way to something different, something better.

It's a fragile hope, perhaps even a foolish one. But as Marco's arms tighten around me, his heartbeat steady against my cheek, I cling to it with everything I have.

For tonight, at least, it's enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Marco

I LOVE YOU, Marco Walsh.

Sasha's words echo in my mind as I study the maps and surveillance photos spread across my desk. The O'Reilly syndicate's properties are marked clearly, their known associates and movements meticulously tracked. It's been three days since the meeting with Deckie O'Reilly—three days of gathering intelligence, consolidating resources, preparing for the inevitable confrontation.

Three days since Sasha told me she loved me, changing everything.

I haven't said the words back. Not because they aren't true—they are, painfully so—but because saying them aloud feels like tempting fate. Loving someone in my world is a dangerous gamble, a vulnerability enemies can exploit.

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. Tony enters, his face grave.

"Surveillance team reports activity at the docks," he says bluntly. "O'Reilly's preparing for the shipment."

"Numbers?"

"At least twenty visible, possibly more inside."

Exactly as expected. This shipment is vital to the O'Reillys' planned expansion into Walsh territory, a move we can't afford to allow.

"Alert our men," I instruct. "We strike tonight."

Tony shifts uncomfortably. "There's something else, Boss."

"Go on."

"Gerald was spotted at the Shelbourne Hotel this morning. Meeting someone."

My jaw tightens instinctively. "Who?"

"A woman." Tony places a grainy surveillance photo on the desk. Gerald sits opposite an elegant blonde. "We're working on identifying her; we should have her identity soon."

"Make it priority," I order firmly.

Tony nods and is about to leave when his phone rings. He turns his back on me as he answers. “Okay, thank you.” He ends the calls, and his face is taut with controlled anger.

"They identified her," he says darkly. "It's Eileen O'Reilly. Deckie's sister. She handles their financials."

The confirmation hits me like a physical blow. Gerald, the man who's been at my father's side for decades, is meeting with the enemy. Betrayal is the only logical explanation.

"Keep eyes on Gerald," I instruct quietly. "Round the clock. I need proof."

“Do we inform your father?” Tony asks.

I already know the answer. “Not yet.” I need solid proof, and a part of me is praying that I’m wrong.

Tony nods without hesitation and leaves, understanding the gravity of this betrayal.

Fuck.

I slump into the office chair and run my hands across my face. How many more men are going to betray us?

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