Page 95 of Sinful Sacrifice

“Come in,” I shout, hitting Send and dropping the phone to my desk.

Julian appears in the doorway. “Cernach Koglin is here to speak with you.”

“Send him in,” I tell him.

Cernach did me a favor by coming here. It saves me the trouble of hunting him down to inform him his studio plan didn’t work out in his favor. He needs to drop the devoted-brother charade and take his ass back to Boston. Enya can work at Pippa’s studio. Problem solved.

Julian leaves the office and returns with a pompous Cernach and one of his men. I don’t bother standing to greet them. He came to me. I have no obligation to show him respect. He isn’t my boss.

That doesn’t mean I minimize his power, though. He didn’t become the sole standing Irish mob boss in Boston for his ethical practices.

Unlike New York, where several Mafia families cohabitate—the O’Connors, also the Irish mob—Cernach won’t allow others in his city. You either take it from him by force or die. Anyone who’s tried is dead. Along with their families.

Since Cernach wants to have friends in this meeting, Julian stays as well.

I spin a pen between my fingers while waiting for Cernach’s next move. The only option of sitting—other than on my lap, desk, or the floor—is the small sofa. I don’t like visitors, and what better way is there to deter them from hanging out than having limited seating?

He casts a glance at the sofa, decides against it, and stands tall in front of my desk. “I have some things I’d like to discuss with you.”

I’ve always been surprised at how heavy his Irish accent is. He’s a son of immigrants, but he was born here in the States.

“You have the floor.” I do a sweeping motion of the room. “For five minutes.” I raise my hand to check my watch, tapping its face.

“Pippa’s father is creating problems,” he says, cutting straight to the chase. That’s a quality I like in a man.

I aim my pen at him. “Maybe for you. He’s not creating any for me.”

“He owes a lot of people a lot of money.”

“What happened to Cernach, the helpful big brother? Be as good as you act and pay his debts for your baby sister.”

“I’m not paying no deadbeat’s debts,” he spits.

I shrug, dropping the pen on my desk. “Not my problem. He doesn’t owe me money.”

“He did until he sent Pippa in here to pay up.”

I stare at him, unaffected. He wanted a reaction from me. I won’t give him that.

I shrug and tap my watch.

“He’s attempting to blackmail me for money, saying he’ll embarrass Enya for who knows what.” He smooths his hand over his round belly, covered by his suit jacket. “He’ll come for Pippa next.”

“Again, Paul isn’t my problem.”

“Are you not involved with my niece?” He raises a furry brow. “I’d say that is your problem.”

“Pippa is none of your concern.”

“You don’t want to protect her?”

I have no interest in entertaining his mind-fuck games. “I’m not killing Pippa’s father,” I say with an annoyed sigh. “While, personally, I couldn’t give two fucks if Paul lives or dies, Pippa does.”

“Paul’s a piece of shit,” he hisses.

“Don’t care. The only reason I’d kill Paul is if he hurts Pippa or she requests it. She hasn’t. He might be scum, but Pippa still loves her father.”

He glowers, unhappy I failed to take his bait. “When do you plan to make an honest woman out of my niece?”

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