Page 52 of Mob Princess

“A little over two hours. But they just talked this time.”

“About?” We’ve had her place bugged for years since he sees her any chance he gets.

He should have married her while he had the chance, but his ambition kept her as a side piece. She wouldn’t have him, anyway. She loves him, but she doesn’t want the life that comes with him.

“Ewan’s sister. I guess she’s living with him now. Sounds like he conned her into moving down there. Told her she would work purely behind the scenes. No one would know she was working for him. I guess she’s got computer programming skills that make you and your brother look like you still have training wheels.”

He isn’t wrong about that. Fucking encryption situation got a shite ton more complicated now that Lina and I are—involved.

“Did that change?”

“Yeah. He told Ellie about how he sent her to New York today. He admitted he didn’t tell Nikki he’s here. That’s her name. He plans to be back before she returns later tomorrow. His best friend’s going to cover for him if he’s late.”

Colton Flaherty.

Douchebag.

“He said Colt could calm Nikki down if she lost her shit. I guess they were engaged.”

My heart’s still beating even though it feels like every ounce of blood just drained onto the floor. I don’t need to look back to know Shane’s watching me. It’s unreasonable for me to expect Lina to have told me about her past relationships in the space of one day. We had plenty of other intense topics to cover.

“I never knew he was. Must have been a while ago.” I try for nonchalant.

“Yeah. I got the impression it was probably like four or five years ago. From the way Ellie reacted, it didn’t end well. I guess Colt used her because he wanted a better position, and Rowan wanted someone to keep Nikki out of his way. Ellie was talking about how lucky Nikki was that it ended since it didn’t matter now that Rowan’s dead. Ewan told her Colt can still get Nikki to do whatever he wants. I guess he’s got a Magic Mike dick.”

My hand closer to the door clenches. I don’t want to know about a man she once loved. I don’t want to know about a man she once slept with. I don’t want to know about the man who fucked her like a stripper performing. I don’t know if she’ll take him up on an offer. I might puke.

I shouldn’t care this much. I have no claim over her. We talked about wanting to see if this can go somewhere. She knows my goal is permanent, and she was okay with that. That makes me think she wouldn’t screw someone else. But it’s not like we’re in an actual relationship.

Shane leans farther forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It makes it easy for his right hand to touch the inside of my left elbow, which is digging into the center console. I look out the passenger window while my brother takes up the questioning. Kelly’s a good informant, but he doesn’t need to know about my private life, which he’ll figure out if I ask anything else about Lina.

“Did Ewan say anything about what’s going on here?”

“Yeah. Schlossberg is meeting him at eight for the second installment payment and to check the merchandise. They’ll meet in the morning once Schlossberg has confirmation everything made it aboard his ship. Ewan’ll get the last installment then.”

I look at my watch. Half an hour. It’s going to be rushed. I shouldn’t have taken so long to say goodbye to Lina. I don’t regret taking my time, but it’s going to inconvenience the others. It gets cramped changing into tactical gear inside an SUV. It’ll be annoying enough with only three of us. There are four in the other SUV. Shane’ll go in the trunk. I’ll move into the third row, and Kelly’ll climb into the second row. The other guys’ll sort it out, but it’ll be tight.

I keep looking out the window as we approach an abandoned power generating station. It’s five minutes away from an industrial complex, so it’s a good place to park while we change. I still have nothing to say after finding out about Lina’s former fiancé. If I don’t act surprised—assuming she tells me—she’ll want to know how I found out. I’ll lie. This is shit I shouldn’t have to keep from her. But I can’t tell her a CI told me. I can’t even say a friend told me because she’d want a name and how they knew.

I climb over the back of the second-row seats once Shane’s in the trunk. He hands me a bag that I pass to Kelly, who followed me into the second-row. Shane cocks an eyebrow I can barely see since it’s so dark in this area. We’re parked where streetlights filter in, but not close enough for other people to notice. The left side of my mouth draws in. A half frown. Nothing I can do about it now.

“We’re good to go.” Nate’s voice flows through the earpieces we now wear.

We’ll talk as little as possible. The other guys’ Gaelic is just good enough for us to give curt commands and answers if we can’t avoid speaking. No one from the other families has bothered to learn Irish Gaelic. We all speak fluent Spanish. We’re New Yorkers, so we’d be knowledgeable of Spanish and Yiddish, regardless. It wasn’t eyebrow raising when we learned it in school.

We speak way more Russian and Italian than the Kutsenkos or Mancinellis realize. Anyone in my family who isn’t proficient in one is proficient in the other. Seamus and I can read Cyrillic well enough to figure out most stuff. We’re not the potato eating, steel pipe to the kneecaps, dock working Irish the other families think we are. We all know where we went to college and grad school. We know how many of us went to Ivy Leagues and top tiers.

Hell, Finn was in Niko Kutsenko’s year at NYU. They had classes together. Matteo was at Cornell, studying architecture at the same time as me. He’s three years older than me, so he was a senior when I was a freshman. Riley O’Malley was Matteo’s roommate. There was a sizable age gap between Rowan and his younger siblings Riley and Cady.

“Ready here, too.” I answer Nate as I pull my beanie over my ears. With our red hair, Shane and I have to cover it if we want any anonymity or element of surprise. It’s a fucking beacon otherwise.

Kelly pulls out of the lot and gets back on the road. It’s seven-fifty, so we’re cutting it close to be in position. Both cars’ lights flip off before the last turn. Kelly weaves us through the buildings until we get to the middle of the set of four warehouses. We coast to a stop after he makes a tight U-turn, so we’re facing out. He shifts into park quickly to keep the taillights on as briefly as he can. That’s why he let the car come to a natural stop. He didn’t want the brake lights beaming for anyone to see. Peter pulls up alongside us. The man drives like he’s at a monster truck rally when he has to.

We make sure the dome lights are off before anyone opens a door. In near silence, we pull our weapons out and check them. I have a pistol strapped to my right thigh and another holstered on my left hip. I’m like a fucked-up version of a cowboy gunslinger. I also have a rifle with its sling across my chest. I have knives in my pants pockets, my left boot, and on the web belt that has ammunition pouches attached to it.

We all triple check our phones to be sure they’re off. We never have the GPS services on unless we absolutely need directions. We screenshot, then turn it back off. No one needs to know where we are. Those who do are already here. We just don’t need anything ringing or buzzing.

While Kelly stays behind to guard the vehicles—truly the most important job in any operation—we creep forward until we arrive at a cluster of freight containers. The kind that goes on a ship, not a train. Not what should be here. Luke steps forward with the bolt cutters. We turn our backs to the doors and raise our rifles. Noise is inevitable, so we’re prepared. There’s a rattle, but it’s not as bad as I expected. This isn’t where the drugs are, but we still need to know what’s at a site the O’Malleys chose. Luke swings the right door open. Empty.

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