Page 13 of Iron Crown

“We can’t have that when we have a son! He’ll get to them, and…" Kira shook her head. “We cannot have unsecured guns around a house with a child in it.”

Fuck. Mafia life was trulynotconducive to having tiny humans. I clenched my jaw.

I was not ready to be a father…

“I’ll have them removed, then. But we must be able to protect ourselves against attack.”

Like today, we needed weapons stowed around. I refused to be defenseless.

“An unsecured gun in a house is more likely to kill the occupants than an invader,” she said.

I scoffed, “Right, if we wereany other family, I would agree. But we areGreens,sweet Muse. We cannot be–”

“Biometrically locked weapons safes in the walls.” She cut me off. “We have a generator that kicks in, in the event of a power loss, right?”

“Aye.” It was an inappropriate time to get hard at the thought of her competence, but I wasn’t fighting it very much either.

“I can install them myself.” She let out a small sigh. “Fingerprints at a minimum, but biometric and retinol scanners are better. You can’t just have them in drawers…”

“As you wish,” I whispered, squeezing her hand and leaning down to place a kiss on her temple. “I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you, Eoghan.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m always prepared for a fight, when you haven’t fought me on anything.”

Relief went through me, cooling my skin.

“Does that mean you’re willing to work with me? Willing to trust me?”

“I have to.”

“Hardly the enthusiastic consent I had hoped for, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Chapter four

No One Lays Hands On A Green

Kira

Iheld his hand like my life depended on it. Like he was the only life raft in an empty sea.

When I re-entered this house with my son in my arms, I’d been in too much shock to observe all the changes.

The infamous blood paintings hung outside his father’s office, facing the foyer. It was imposing. Downright menacing. Eoghan, in his devilish form, his enemies screaming as they fell into the fires of eternal damnation, greeted everyone who entered.

The walls, too, had changed from forest green to various shades of cream, tan and brown. The wood furnishings were re-paintedwith a dark stain, tables dotted with familiar white orchids. The borders, board and batten, and the wooden beams above were an ash black, the paint making obvious textured waves that caught the light.

This was no longer the haunted home of Alastair Green. Now it was something softer…except the painting, of course. That was still creepy.

A flurry of black uniforms with the logo of Green Fields Enterprises on their breast pocket shuffled around, their radios letting off audible static or beeping with transmissions.

Everyone here was dressed for war.

The walkie-talkies, the helmets, the body armor… the sheer, aggressive competence of Shiny and the men she ordered about with a wave of her hand did not compute with an organization that allowed five—or was it six?—men into the house without a trace.

What the hell had happened?

Shiny was halfway down the steps, one hip cocked out, her arms crossed. She turned her head, telling Eoghan, “I saw nothing on the feeds, but the cameras were cut before the first shot.”

A man trotted up beside her, his thick lips pulled in a dazzling white smile, his smooth umber skin a contrast to the paler faces around him. He wore jeans and a long-sleeve black shirt with a yellow Brazilian Jiu Jitsu logo. He casually placed an arm around Shiny’s waist, tugging her to him.

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