Page 35 of Betrayal and Ruin

Can’t let them see all our cards too soon.

I narrow my eyes at the grin on Cillian’s face, one which assumes he’s already won. “Cillian,” I bark, “what are you doing here?”

He mocks me, “What am I doing here?” He tilts his head, his eyes flashing with anger as he looks at Ronan. “I think the better question is why you’re here selling guns to a loyalist piece of shit. Have you no honor? No shame?” He tries to make me feel small, but he forgets one thing—he has no power over me. “Your grandfather and father would be disappointed in you.”

He expects me to react to his words, but I don’t. I never lived for the approval of the men who came before me. They taught me it was a weakness if I did. Yes, I respected them for the lessons I learned and the legacy they handed me, but that is not the same thing as making choices like their corpses are on my back.

They aren’t.

“They’re dead and buried,” my tone is bored. Hell, I’m kind of already bored with this whole thing.

All for politics. All for a fight that isn’t even his. Not anymore.

He would probably get a lot farther by fighting the corruption with money and more corruption. Instead, he wants to use weapons to take lives and incite terror. He has no idea how to truly win, only to intimidate.

“I’m here for the cause,” Cillian sounds like he’s been dipping into his own supply. Probably because he has. His head is inflated on faux power and a dream which evaporated a long time ago, at least in the way he wanted it to come about.

“You should have come to see me when you got into town,” I sneer and wave my hand dismissively. “I could have saved you the trip. You know I don’t conduct business this way and I don’t give a shit about your cause.”

Lorcan Byrne, the father of the woman I love, puffs up his chest like he has any place in this conversation. Roisin didn’t tell me he’s the one who hit her the night of our first date, but it wasn’t necessary. She told me enough about how it was growing up and how the man, and I use the term loosely, made her feel.

To raise your hand to a woman is evil. But your own daughter? If only I could kill him.

I know the guilt of it would eat Roisin up. Which is the only reason her family will be spared tonight.

Cillian’s muscle flank the trio even as Finn stands a little bit behind the two men who are going to, one day, lead him to his doom. It’s a display they think telegraphs power. I know differently.

Lorcan growls, “You’re not an Irishman if you don’t want freedom.”

“My roots might be Irish, something I’m damn proud of, but I’m American. I care about money. I have my freedom.”

A vein on Lorcan’s temple starts to pulse and I know the man is about to explode. One look from Cillian has him backing down.

Cillian tilts his head toward Ronan. “Selling to a loyalist piece of shit will make me an enemy of yours,” he threatens.

I smirk, unbothered and unconcerned. It has Cillian feeling a little off balance. The slight widening of his eyes before he can mask his reaction tells me what I need to know.

Ronan steps forward out of the shadows and adjusts the lapels of his peacoat. Cillian snarls, “Who the fuck is that?”

My voice is deadly cold, full of violent promises, “Who I do business with is not your concern.” I tilt my head like a predator, an edge of amusement in my tone, “Who did you think I was meeting with?”

Cillian glares at Finn who shrinks back. He can’t go far with the two men watching the backs of those who are now, officially, in over their heads.

Lorcan spits out, “She couldn’t even get this right while having no problem whoring herself out.”

I see fucking red. I close the distance between us and wrap my hand around Lorcan’s throat. I feel Conor and Ronan at my back. I’m sure they have grins which would rival the devil on their faces and guns drawn. I don’t give a flying fuck what is going on around us, my only focus is the man in my grasp.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” I growl. “Roisin is mine. Mine. If you walk out of here with your life, you will never speak to her again. You will never expect anything from her. You will forget she even exists. Not like it will be a hardship from what I hear,” I taunt him with my last words.

I hope to see some flicker of regret in the man’s eyes, but there isn’t any. Not one single bit. My heart breaks for Roisin, but she doesn’t need this man. His weakness is clear to see. He used his daughter for a cause she should have never been touched by. He should have seen the opportunity he was given when he moved to America, but, instead, he always looked back.

His loss.

My fucking gain.

Finn steps closer and Conor cuts him off, his voice a singsong promising more pain than he got in the ring, “I wouldn’t get involved if I were you. Unless you’d like to have your own moment of reckoning.”

One of Cillian’s men steps forward and without breaking eye contact with Lorcan, I draw my weapon and shoot him. Headshot. His blood splatters and I feel the mist of red as it lands on me, but it does nothing to shake me. His life wasn’t the first I’ve taken, and it won’t be the last.

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