Page 72 of Finn

Finn walks to the giant window and tilts his head, indicating for me to follow. Standing shoulder to shoulder, he points to four of the surrounding buildings. “I own all of these. Those two”—he points to the left— “are apartments for some of my men. And those two”—he points to the right—“are where we store some of our inventory. They also double as apartments on the top two floors.”

“So you basically own the entire block?”

He nods and walks over to a door laid into the brick wall. “Let me show you something else that I think you’re going to like.”

The door opens to what looks like another set of elevator doors and another fingerprint scanner.

“God, Finn, this place is like Fort Knox, with all the security features.”

He presses his palm to the scanner and the narrow elevator doors open.

“This can only be accessed with a palm print.” He grabs his phone from his pocket and dials a number. When whoever is on the other end answers, he tells them, “My wife needs access to all the scanners.” He listens for a moment, then nods in my direction. “Press your hand here,” he instructs.

When I do, nothing happens for a few moments, then a small light above the scanner turns green.

“Thanks,” he says into the phone and slides it back into his pocket. “Me, you, Cillian and Eoghan are the only ones who can access this particular elevator, but your print has been uploaded into the system, so you have access to all my buildings.”

We step inside, and the doors close, taking us a level lower than the garage. My head is spinning with the idea that my husband has some high-tech secret hideout that I now have access to. When the doors open again, we step out into a bright room filled with nearly a hundred different guns, all ranging in size. Make that a heavily armed secret hideout.

“Do you have a small armory in every house you own?”

“Pretty much. And I also have one of these.” He opens another steel door into an underground shooting range. It’s a bit more narrow than the one at his house, this one having only one lane for target practice.

“An armory and a gun range in every house. Are you building an army I don’t know about? Did I marry someone with designs to take over the world?”

Finn laughs, and the sound echoes off what I’m guessing are soundproof walls. “No, you married the head of a criminal organization who makes a shit ton of their money in the gun trade. I like to test the shipments, and having a range here is more convenient. The one at the house is for practice. Well, there’s also one in most of our safe houses, but that’s more for fun for whoever is out there. It can get boring as hell.”

I can’t fault his logic there. There have been days when practicing at a range is what saves my sanity and helps me work through whatever problems are tumbling through my brain.

“This is quite the setup you have.” I wander over to one of the walls with several pistols hanging up and loaded magazines lying on the shelf below.

I grab a 9mm and test the weight in my hand. “This one is my favorite.” Memories of all the times Enzo would take me to the range for target practice filter through my mind. A chuckle escapes when I think of one of my first times at the range. “After Gio’s death, I felt so damn helpless. I didn’t know any sort of self-defense and I’d never held a gun. When I was healed from my injuries, I’d jump at every little thing. Even Enzo could see the constant state of fear I was living in. He and my father refused to let me escape into the shell of a person I was becoming.” I put the 9mm back and pick up the 44 Magnum next to it. “My father decided if I was afraid of my own shadow, it was time I learned different ways of defending myself, so I’d never feel powerless again. Our first stop was a gun range. This was Enzo’s favorite gun. I don’t know, something about Dirty Harry and being the ultimate badass. He let me shoot a gun just like this and it nearly knocked me on my ass, but after a few more tries, I kind of got the hang of it. Then my father handed me a 9mm, and it was much easier for me to handle.” I smile at the gun in my hand. “But this one was always Enzo’s favorite.”

I look down and find a bullet, taking it from the box.

“Do you have a knife?” I ask Finn.

He walks to a display case I hadn’t noticed and takes out a short utility knife, handing it to me. I flip the blade open and lay the bullet on the shelf, carving an O on the side.

“I want the kill shot, Finn.”

He looks from me to the gun, then back to me. “Taking a life isn’t an easy thing, Alessia. It can change you, haunt you.”

“Does it haunt you? Do you see the faces of the men whose deaths you’ve been responsible for?”

He looks me straight in the eye. “Each one deserved it, so no. I don’t give them a second thought.”

“Then why do you think I would? Orlando deserves this.” I hold the bullet between us. “And I deserve to be the one to deliver it.”

He’s silent as he studies the hard resolution in my eyes. “Then you’ll have it,” he answers. “Anything you need, I’ll stand next to you and make sure it’s yours.”

That feeling I’d had at the doctor’s house returns in full force. Finn doesn’t attempt to shield me from anything that being a part of this life means. He knows I would never be okay with that. When I need to show the world the hardened woman who I have to be to survive in this life, he stands right next to me. When I need somewhere soft to land, he’s right there next to me then, too. He doesn’t want a wife he has to coddle; he wants a partner. This man loves my stubbornness, my determination, and my fire. If I need bloody vengeance, he’ll make sure I have it because that’s who Finn is. Anything I need or could possibly want, he would move heaven and hell to make sure I get it. He’s broken through my walls brick by brick without me even realizing it. Now, standing in front of him, telling him I want to be the one to take the life of someone who’s caused me and the people I love so much pain, someone who has taken so much from me, he doesn’t blink an eye. If I want it, he’ll make sure it happens. That’s who I need by my side. He’s who I’ve always needed.

“I love you,” I blurt out. He doesn’t say anything, instead staring at me with his mouth hanging open. “I know this was never about love, and maybe I’m emotional from the horrible fucking day I’ve had and seeing someone who’s like a brother to me almost dying, or—”

“Alessia.” Finn slides his warm palm around the side of my neck and cups my cheek. “Shut the hell up.”

Chapter twenty

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