Page 78 of Mafia Kingdom

"It's nothing serious," I assure her, though I wince when her hand brushes my injured side.

Sasha's expression makes it clear she doesn't believe me. "Sit down," she orders, her tone brooking no argument. "Let me look at it."

Too tired to resist, I comply, easing myself onto the edge of the bed. She helps me remove my jacket and shirt, her sharp intake of breath telling me the injuries look worse than they feel.

"These need to be cleaned," she murmurs, examining the cuts with gentle fingers. "Wait here."

She disappears into the bathroom, returning moments later with a first aid kit I keep stocked for minor injuries. With practiced efficiency, she cleans and bandages the wounds, her touch clinical but tender.

"The mission failed," I tell her as she works, needing her to understand the gravity of our situation. "They were waiting for us."

Her hands pause momentarily, then resume their careful ministrations. Once she is done, she sits beside me on the bed, her presence a comfort I didn't know I needed. "What happens now?"

"We regroup. Develop a new strategy." I run a hand through my hair, exhaustion beginning to overtake the adrenaline.

Sasha gently touches my face, and my eyes flutter closed. My mind was spinning with everything.

“Lie down, Marco.” She says softly as she helps me into the bed. Then curls beside me, careful to avoid my injured side. The simple intimacy of her presence—the warmth of her body against mine, the soft scent of her hair—soothes me in ways I never thought possible.

A light kiss touches my jawline, and I reach around and pull her small frame into my body before pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Marco

DAWN BREAKS WITH the harsh clarity of reality. The full extent of last night's disaster becomes apparent as reports filter in—three men dead, five injured, and significant damage to our reputation. News travels fast; by now, everyone knows the Walsh family was outmaneuvered by the O'Reillys.

My phone hasn't stopped buzzing since sunrise—calls from allies seeking reassurance, neutral parties recalculating their positions, even Father's old associates concerned about the Walsh leadership.

I ignore most calls, focusing instead on identifying the source of the leak. Tony and I spend hours reviewing every detail of the operation, narrowing down who had access to critical information.

"It has to be someone high up," Tony concludes grimly. "Someone who knew not just the location, but the timing, the team compositions—everything."

He hands me a surveillance photo from yesterday. Gerald Quinn seated across from Eileen O'Reilly at the Shelbourne Hotel.

"It's circumstantial," I caution, though my gut tells me otherwise. "A meeting alone doesn't prove betrayal."

"There's no innocent reason for Gerald to be meeting Eileen O'Reilly," Tony argues firmly. "Not now, not with everything that's happening."

He's right, and we both know it. The question is what to do next. Gerald’s potential betrayal suggests either my father’s involvement or Gerald's independent play for power. Neither scenario bodes well.

"We need more concrete evidence," I decide. "Put Gerald under round-the-clock surveillance. Track his movements, calls—everything."

Tony nods before touching the bandage on his head.

“How are you holding up?” I ask.

He waves off my concerns. “My head is the least of our worries. We got more news, but I’m not sure if it’s another setup.”

I fold my arms across my chest as if I can brace myself for more bad news.

"Surveillance just picked up Deckie O'Reilly entering The Sanctuary. He’s arranging a private meeting for tomorrow evening. All their key lieutenants, plus new allies—it's big."

I nod. The Sanctuary—an old church converted to an exclusive club, maintained as neutral ground by mutual agreement. It's the perfect location for a high-level strategy meeting, especially one involving multiple factions.

"If they're gathering the key players in one location," I muse, "it could be an opportunity."

"Or a setup," Tony repeats his earlier concerns. "They might be expecting us to make a move after last night."

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