Page 8 of Shattered Empire (Shattered World)

Seamus, the hugging hippie that he was, wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me tight to his side. “You,” he emphasized, “have nothing to apologize for. We know your pain and how hard it is to lose someone you love. The gala was one big fuckup after another. It’s our fault we didn’t do better research on the attendees or on Lina. Our guts told us not to take her down there, but we ignored them. Plus, I don’t think we could have stopped her from going even if we tried.”

Kiernan snorted. “She probably would have climbed out the window and gone, anyway,” he pointed out, eyes dancing with amusement. “Bailey wanted to save her friend. There was no stopping her once she put her mind to it. No matter how much we tried to dissuade her.” He nudged my shoulder and winked obscenely.

Oh gross.

“I think I threw up in my mouth a little.”

The twins laughed merrily, and I found myself joining in. God, it felt good to laugh and let go. I hadn’t done that since Matthias was shot. Family had a way of healing you, no matter how deep into the darkness you sank.

* * *

The building had been easy enough to clear out with our fire department contact, who slipped door to door, warning everyone of a possible hazardous leak. Each floor held two penthouse-style condos, and the one across from Bailey was thankfully vacant.

Looking down, I double-checked the safety on my Smith & Wesson M&P, making sure it was off, before giving Vas the go-ahead. There were only four of us. We didn’t need an entire contingent of men for two measly people who were a threat less than zero.

Maxim was posted in front of the door, his gun aimed at the lock, waiting. Vas counted down quietly from three. The man had barely reached one when Maxim shot out the door and Leon kicked it in. The three men created a barrier around me, with Vas taking point at the head of their little V-shaped safety net.

It was frustrating going from being the protected and constantly guarded wife of a mafia boss to being the protected and guarded mafia boss. It was like nothing had changed besides my nameplate.

Oh, I should get one of those.

Wood breaking, followed by a shrill scream, rent the air.

“What the fuck?” That was Drew, Bailey’s ex-fiancé. I recognized his voice from the schmoozing he’d done at the gala when he found out my last name was Ward. Matthias had me revert to my maiden name, which was easy enough, since I had never officially changed my last name when I was forced to marry him.

No papers or ID.

Mark was working on that for me just to make things easier. I doubted they would be real, but that didn’t matter. As long as I had something, that was what I needed.

“Oh, I could have lived without seeing this,” I grumbled, scrunching my nose up at the two naked bodies before me. We’d interrupted sexy time.Gag.

None of the men looked happy about it, either.

“Okay, let’s get this over with so I can stop having to look at the Amityville horror show before me.”

The girl, Brittany, I believed was her name, sniffed the air like she was miffed I had insinuated she was ugly.

I didn’t want to insinuate anything. So, I straight out told her.

Vas and my men laughed. She didn’t. Neither did Drew, who looked like he was about to wet the bedsheets.

Tilting my head, I brought my gaze to him as I studied him. He wasn’t anything special. Average height. Average size. He reminded me more of an underdeveloped college freshman than a man. Then again, I could say that about anyone if I compared them to the hulking muscle standing around me.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” It might have sounded demanding and strong if his voice didn’t waver like a little bitch.

“I want you to tell me about the money you’ve been shipping from the Middle East for Christian Ward.” Might as well cut to the chase.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, bitch.”

A low growl permeated the room, and Drew’s eyes widened as my men took a collective threatening step toward him, their lips raised in a snarl. They didn’t like him insulting their new boss.

“Do you know who I am?”

Taking his eyes off the surrounding men, he sneered. “I’ve heard about you,” he spat. “Christian Ward’s little whore.”

I smiled at him, my eyes lighting up as I let out a small giggle.

Then I aimed my gun and pulled the trigger.

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