Page 125 of Freeing Denver
The head of the Bratva rolls his eyes, as if the entire evening is boring him.
Denver says, “Two minutes left. Those who sided with Massimo, raise your hand, and your families will be spared.”
Silence creeps through the space. People shift in their seats. Those who I know are innocent are eyeing the others with interest, and those who aren’t have started to sweat. Collars are pulled at. Throats dip and rise with heavy, calculated swallows.As Conor Gallagher’s body cools, our guests observe the room, waiting for the first hand to rise.
And when it does, others follow. One by one, each person who met with Massimo or Conor raises their hand.
“This is bullshit!” Massimo bellows at those surrendering. He stands. “We had agreements!”
But he’s clearly outnumbered, his promises not enough to overshadow our threats. Besides, they’ve lived comfortable lives under our control, and they’re likely realizing the risk of trading that for Massimo’s dreams.
“Well,” Denver slaps her hands together. “That was easy. Sabina?”
Sabina pulls out her gun, holds it to the back of her brother’s head, and fires. His body hits the ground in a similar fashion to Conor’s.
We all stare at her. Denver says, “I thought you were just going to take over.”
“I am,” Sabina says, shoving her brother’s body out of the seat and replacing him. She dusts down her pantsuit. “I just couldn’t be bothered with the argument.”
Denver gives me a look that says, “oh fuck,” but it isn’t our problem.
Dante Capelli leans forward again, this time looking at Sabina. “You single?” She gives him the finger.
The pressure of the last few months is gone so quickly that I feel unfamiliar in my own body. Ever since I woke up from that coma, it’s been an endless battle for my family, an attempt to hold onto what we all worked so hard for.
Now our place is secured, I can breathe again.
“Nothing changes,” Ronan says, his deep voice commanding the attention of those still alive. “Business runs as normal, shipments will arrive, and territories will not change, but …” His smirk is etched with dark amusement. “Feel free to grovel wherenecessary. My patience is thin at the best of times, so if you test me and had your hand raised in this room, I may find myself quicker to violence. That being said—are there any questions?” His tone is of faux kindness, and no one dares speak. “What good little gangsters. Now, fuck off.” He waves his hand at the door.
“Is thatit? We’re done?” Dante cries. “Can I shoot someone?”
Alexei stands swiftly. “This could have been an email.”
There’s a mix of disgruntled and sheepish exits. I shake hands, hear apologies but don’t accept them, and Denver remains in the center of the room with Ronan. Alistair is by my side to bid people goodbye, agreeing to meetings I won’t have to take, taking his place as Ronan’s second in the McEwan family.
It was a huge decision to merge the families. Alistair understood the reasoning behind it—running things without me was going to be a struggle. Losing me and my name meant the family would take a significant hit, and it made sense to unite our strengths. We should have done it years ago.
Once most of the heads have left, I catch Denver’s eye. She smiles at me, but it quickly disappears when her phone rings. The call we’ve been waiting for.
She answers.
And when she closes her eyes, I know what’s been said.
Kitrick was right.
Ronan puts his hand on Denver’s arm, and she shakes her head. My heart beats frantically as I remove the space between us. “Del,” I say, and she faces me, her eyes wide with despair. “I’m sorry.”
Her lip trembles. “How could he?”
I cup her cheek. “Breathe. In. Out.” She does, her attention locked on me. I rest my forehead against hers. “Remember who the fuck you are.”
Her breathing evens out, and she wets her lips.
This could break her. This could break all of us. To know someone was burrowed so deep for so long.
And we had no idea.
“What do you want to do?” I ask.
