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Cracking my neck, I let out a sigh before once again hitting the road—this time on my way to a sit down with BillyHayes. No time like the present to put him in his place, and what better place to do it than at O’Neill’s, my very own pride and joy?

As I’m led into through the doors to the VIP area, I mentally prepare myself for the war of wits that’s bound to be waiting for me. By design, I’m first to arrive, so, taking my seat, I order a bottle of McCallen twenty-five for the table and two glasses while waiting for my guest to show up. Billy has been at my Da’s side since before I was born, but that doesn’t give him any right to send his son snooping, to challenge my father’s orders, or to question me. It’s my job to remind him of that tonight. Whether he likes it or not doesn’t matter. People like him can be replaced in a heartbeat if necessary.

It’s about time he learnt just how replaceable he is.

Ten minutes later, five minutes late to our impromptu meeting, Billy strides in, puffing out his chest and acting like he owns the place. Funny—I don’t seehisname on the door.

“Nice of you to join me.” I nod to the chair in front of me for him to take a seat. He doesn’t deserve a respectful greeting. Maybe if he was on time, but then again, after today, probably not even then.

“What can I do for you?” he asks, leaning back in his seat and helping himself to the whiskey between us without so much as asking or offering me a top up. Rude bastard.

“It’s funny you should ask. You’ll never believe who I crossed paths with today,” I muse, catching the waitress’ eye as she makes to approach the table. With a subtle shake of my head, she turns and leaves us.

“It wouldn’t be your father, would it? I’ve been meaning to give him a call. He must need my help with whatever is keeping him so occupied.” Not bloody likely.

“Oh no, much closer to home. Your home, at that. Say, I wasn’t aware your son had joined our ranks,” I muse, watching him freeze for a split second before he launches into his lies.

“My Colin? Well, not yet, but as soon as he’s eighteen, I’ll be putting him forward. He’s an excellent shot already. Taught him myself. He’ll make a great addition to our ranks,” he blusters, a bead of sweatforming at his temples that he dabs away.

“That’s odd. If he’s not one of us, then how come he was found outside my father’s house today?” I drawl, watching the colour leave his face as his eyes frantically scan the room. If he’s looking for an escape, he won’t find one, nor will he find any lies to feed me.

“You know, now that I think about it…Colin has recently joined. You know what it’s like to keep track of who’s doing what. I’ll talk to him, see why he was there. Don’t you worry—I’ll get to the bottom of this.” He laughs, adjusting his shirt collar and avoiding my eyes.

“I imagine that might be rather difficult,” I drawl, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth as I draw a circle on the table in the ring of condensation from my glass.

“What…what do you mean?” He dabs at the sweat beading along his forehead again, flicking his eyes between me and the room behind me.

“Well, you see, as you are aware, we don’t take trespassers lightly. Or rats. Things like that need to be delt with swiftly. I’m sure you understand.” Emotions fly across his face: confusion, horror, fear, disbelief before he tries and fails to school his features into something a mask of cool disinterest.

“You don’t mean…” He trails off, as if not speaking it into existence can change things.

“I fear I do. Your Colin is in the Pit and will remain there until I’m sure you can be trusted.Ifyou can be trusted. Now, care to confess why you sent him snooping? That’s right—he squealed like a little pig. It only took three removed fingers.” God, I wish I could tape this moment. Ciaran would love it.

“Why, you little-” He tries to lunge across the table for me, sending the perfectly good whiskey flying. But before he can wrap his hand around my throat, I twist his wrist behind his back, leaning closer to snarl, “I can, and I did. Now, confess your sins, William, or your son will pay for them.”

Releasing him, I watch as he falls to a puddle on the floor. Brushinghimself off, he stands and glares at me as he sneers, “You’re not the boss and never will be, you little shit. Now, get Senior on the phone so the real men can talk.”

“I wish you could stick around long enough to eat your words, but I fear that won’t be possible,” I muse, clicking my fingers. In a split-second, Seamus comes strolling out of the shadows with Jack and Brennan in tow.

“Why don’t we reunite you with your son for now? There’s plenty room in the Pit for one more,” I taunt as we make quick work of binding him and carrying him out a back entrance and throw him into the boot of the waiting SUV. His protests and smack talk fall on deaf ears. He’s a bigger idiot than I gave him credit for if he thought he could take my Da’s position, my birthright, right out from under our noses.

Chapter 8

After that car crash of an interview, the last thing I expected was a call from Donna hours later, congratulating me on my new job. Questioning the hows and whys would be looking a gift horse in the mouth, and I may be blonde, but I’m not stupid. Instead, I thanked her and told her I couldn’t wait to get started. With instructions to meet with her at seven a.m. sharp on Monday, we hung up. I then spent the weekend panicking over what to wear and ruined my new manicure by biting my nails.

By the time Monday crawled around, I was no less nervous, and as the intimidating high-rise office came into view, the reality that I’m about to be a sheep in the wolf’s den has me questioning if I shouldn’t run and hide before it’s too late.

Breath, Helen. Lift your chin, push your shoulders back, and smile.

Smoothing my hands down my navy pinstripe skirt and tugging at the matching jacket, I take a deep breath in. It’s just a job. I can do this. I doubt I’ll even cross paths with any of the O’Neill’s themselves. Angus would never be caught dead doing a day’s work, so I can’t see whyother factions would be any different. All mafia men are the same: entitled wankers, through and through—though maybe I should have picked the sensible black pantsuit just in case. But alas, the urge to look my best and make a good impression on my first day won out.

Pushing open the heavy glass door, I’m immediately assaulted by the hustle and bustle. While the streets outside might be filled with commuters, half asleep and guzzling down coffee, here, it’s like people have been awake for hours, and everyone is on a mission. Getting a visitors pass, I make my way over to the bank of lifts as clipped conversations float around.

Following Donna’s instructions to meet with her first and get my new hire paperwork squared away has a fresh ball of nerves settling in my stomach. No matter how often I hand over my falsified documents, the dread this will be the time I’m caught and my life implodes never lessens. The fact she still hasn’t shared with me who I’ll be reporting to doesn’t help my rising anxiety. Still, the general camaraderie I’ve witnessed so far has me excited to find out. Everyone seems genuinely happy to be here, which speaks volumes.

Knocking on the open door to her office, I pop my head in with a smile.

“Nice and early. He’ll love that. Now, let’s get this paperwork sorted, shall we?” It’s a rhetorical question, so with a smile in place and hands folded in my lap, I don’t offer any comment as she shuffles some papers on her desk until she finds what she’s looking for.