Page 118 of Brutal Heir
I never fidget.
But today, my patience is stretched to a threadbare edge.
“You realize the shitstorm you’ve kicked off, don’t you?” my father growls, tossing a folder onto the table. Photos spill out, blurred surveillance stills, charred cars, crime scene snapshots. “Bodies are turning up all over fucking Manhattan.”
“La Spada Nera made a move on the Vault,” I reply, voice flat. “What was I supposed to do?” I don’t let them answer before I continue. “Then when we were shot at, I just assumed… You expected me to sit on my hands while they dared to hurt what’s mine?”
A few murmurs break out around the table. I don’t look away from my father.
“They shot at you and your girl?” Uncle Nico asks, taking a slow sip of his espresso. “So it’s official then. This Irish nurse is more than a quick fuck?”
I shoot him a glare. “Her name is Rory. And she’s not just some girl. She’smine.”
The room stills.
Even Matteo doesn’t try to cut the tension with a joke.
Papàleans back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “And how exactly did your n—Rory end up with a death warrant hanging over her head? Dead or alive, a million-dollar bounty in four countries. You keep a walking target in your home, and you don’t think that’s something we should’ve been briefed on?”
A harsh chuckle rasps out. “Me? You’re the one that hired her,Papà. Or did you forget that tiny detail?”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten. And it was a damned good thing my lawyer discovered her forged papers, or we would still be sitting here in the dark likecoglione.”
“She didn’t ask for any of this,” I snap. “Her name was Brigid O’Shea. Her father promised her to Conall Quinlan like she was cattle. She ran. Changed her name. Disappeared. Conall wants her back—or dead. And he’s not the type to let go.”
Nico whistles low under his breath. “Well, I’ll be fucked. Brigid O’Shea. The butcher’s runaway bride.”
Matteo finally speaks. “He’s already had men sniffing around in the Bronx. I found two watching the Velvet Vault last night. Irish, not Sicilian. No Spada markings.”
Papàexhales through his nose, slow and lethal. “So you go nuclear on La Spada Nera, kick up old alliances we’ve spent years trying to neutralize, and it wasn’t even them who pulled the trigger?”
“I thought it was,” I bite out. “Rory was with me. I had to make a call. You’d have done the same if it wereMa.”
A muscle twitches in my father’s jaw. Uncle Nico slides into a seat, leans forward, elbows on the table. “So what’s the plan now,capo? You’ve claimed the girl, pissed off the Sicilians, and painted a big red bullseye on all our backs. What’s your move?”
My move?
I look around the table, at the men who’ve shaped my world, trained me to lead it, rule it. But none of them know what it’s like to have something, no, someone, worth burning it all down for. Fuck, that’s not true, my father and Nico know very well, and they would do the same damned thing for their wives.
Cazzo, when did I start thinking about Rory as someone I could spend the rest of my life with? Probably not long after she sashayed into my penthouse and leveled that fiery gaze on me.
“I protect her,” I finally answer. “At any cost. She stays under my roof. No one touches her. If the Irish want to come for her, they’ll have to come through me. Through all of us.”
“You want a war with the Quinlans?”Papà’s voice is soft now, more dangerous than before.
“I want to finish what they started,” I bark. “If it’s a war they want, I won’t blink. But we need to know if this bounty is official or freelance. If the IRA’s involved. If Conall’s made deals with any of the cartels. We’re not walking in blind again.”
Matteo taps on his phone. “I’ll pull everything we have on known Irish associates in the tri-state area. See if any of them have been active recently.”
“And what about the girl?” Nico asks. “You trust her? After all the lies?”
“She didn’t lie to hurt me. She did what she had to. Just like we’ve all done.”
Silence.
Then, slowly, my father nods. “Alright,figlio. You brought her into this family. That makes her ours now. But if this goes south?—”
“I’ll take the hit,” I interrupt. “No one else. I’ll clean up the mess.”
