Page 133 of Unrequited
The body’s still bleeding out, and I keep my voice calm, likeI’m discussing wine instead of murder. “Now, men,” I say, “why the hell are we all here?”
No one answers right away. Cavin leans forward eventually, slow and deliberate. He’s built like a brick wall, thick arms covered in ink. When he speaks, people listen.
“Wasn’t meant to be a test, sir,” he says, flicking his eyes toward the body without flinching. “But… there’s been talk.”
I don’t blink. I wait. “Hmm?”
He clears his throat. “Some of the younger lads… ones who don’t remember what it took to build this empire… they’ve been wondering. Whispering. They see you married. Gone for days at a time. Think you’ve gone soft.”
“I’d like to think I’ve proven I haven’t,” I say.
Cavin nods once. “Maybe they just needed a reminder. Bit of a culling, aye?”
Definitely.
The silence after that is thick. Nobody breathes too loud. They all just learned that proximity won’t save you.
“Now,” I say, resting my hands on the cold metal table, knuckles wide and scarred. “Let’s make one thing clear.”
Every man straightens. Nobody speaks.
“I’m the heir. Not Branson. If any of you are loyal to him, you tell me now. I’ve made it clear I don’t trust him. I’m loyal to my father.”
I draw my gun and place it on the table. “I won’t shoot you. But this is your only chance to walk away.”
They stay still.
“Where’ve I been?” I ask, scanning the room. “Cleaning up the messes none of you could stomach. Making deals your fathers never dared dream of. And I married a woman strong enough to stand beside me while I build something bigger.”
I nod to Zoya.
“She is not a weakness. She is your queen. And you will treat her as such.”
Cavin gives a slow, understanding nod. He’s always understood the bigger picture.
“You think I’m distracted?” I ask. “No. I’ve been focused. Belfast is ours. Dublin’s folding. And there are men across the sea waiting to kneel at our table.”
I scan the room again. “But if any of you want to play petty kingdom, whisper behind my back, test me, I’ll bury every last one of you and rebuild from the ground up.”
Another silence.
And this time, they know it’s their test.
I start pointing.
“You,” I say to Daire. “Ride out. Reinforce Belfast. Cavin runs point. No movement without his say-so.”
“Aye. Yes, sir,” comes instantly.
I round the table and stop behind Zoya’s chair, placing both hands on her shoulders. Shedoesn’t flinch.
“My wife will be protected. And anyone who forgets that won’t get a second chance.”
A chorus of “Yes, sir” follows.
But one voice cuts through. “And the Russians, sir?”
I turn my eyes on him. “What about them?”
