Page 31 of Chaos Luck Wrath

Doubling down, Gage draped his arm along the back of Layne’s chair and flashed a shit-eating grin.

With Joey seated on the other side of Layne, he smirked knowing damn well he would have done the same exact thing as his brother. Well, maybe he would have done it a bit more aggressively and shoved Jonathan down into the seat.

Layne took a large sip from the frosted pint glass filled with a beer that had hoppy notes of citrus and pine. It carried enough of an alcohol content that she was feeling less tense than she had at the start of dinner.

Not able to wait another minute to hear whatever was discovered, she prompted him, “Spill it.” Her eyes set on the man who was supposed to be a diplomatic guru and curator of navigating the toughest conversations.

Jonathan subtly wiped his palms against the thighs of his pants. “He purchased 430 East 84th Street.”

She damn near dropped her beer. If it hadn’t been for Gage’s quick reflexes that took the glass from her hand and set it on the table in front of her, it would have ended all over the front of her blouse and jeans.

“Motherfucker,” Joey grumbled, recognizing the address of the residence of one very deceased Eric Ellis. Layne had put the piece of real estate on the market months ago and recently off-loaded it with the acceptance of a generous offer.

The disbelief threaded through each of Layne’s words, “What? It was sold to a corporation; it was plain as day on the settlement papers.”

Her associate apologetically scrunched his eyebrows together as he looked at her. “SVO & Son Enterprises? It’s just a placeholder, Layne. Liam’s the sole owner.”

Once again, her brother had flown under her radar. “Scott Vance O’Reilly and Son Enterprises,” she muttered at the realization. This time it was so blatantly under her nose that he had done it, she was pretty sure Liam’s ego right now was the biggest it ever had been.

Gage’s hand squeezed her thigh supportively. “He’s fucked in the head, baby. He’s trying to emulate your dad and live out whatever skewed sense of what could have been.”

Joey looked over at Layne with pain and anger filling his eyes at how things were getting so much worse and not looking any better. He should have thrown Liam in the trunk of Shannon O’Reilly’s car before it blew to pieces if he had been graced with the foresight to know how the youngest of the O’Reilly clan would haunt him so many years later.

Looking over at Jonathan, Joey cut to the chase, “What’s he want with Eric’s property?”

“Don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.” Jonathan shrugged before looking over at Layne. “There’s one more thing.”

The way her stomach was beginning to churn, she was regretting the burger she had consumed twenty minutes ago. Her eyes narrowed at Jonathan, wondering what the hell else could be dumped on her.

“He…” her associate paused to choose his words carefully. “He called Sammy earlier. Sam didn’t want to say anything to you, not after our meeting at the Brass Mirror. He made me swear not to tell you, but...”

Her eyes went from the warm green of a grassy knoll on a summer day to the shadowy moss on rocks at the bottom of an oceanside cliff. “Tell. Me. What?” Layne squeezed her words out past her clenched jaw as she leaned forward.

“Liam offered Sam a job.” His visible discomfort as he shifted in his seat indicated that this wasn’t a job involving doing grocery checkout at the supermarket.

A lump formed in Layne’s throat and both De Lucas on either side of her had their tensions inflating a thickness in the air around their table.

All eyes were on Jonathan; everyone on edge, waiting.

“Um, he turned it down, but… Liam offered Sam a well-paid spot on his team if Sam would, I quote, ‘force his dick in you until you were broken and bleeding’.” It was clear from the shade of beet red that Jonathan’s cheeks were now turning, that he hadn’t wanted to deliver this message either.

Gage nearly flipped the damn table over the second he shot up onto his feet, ready to brutally slaughter the messenger.

As the words sank in, Layne sat there feeling like the walls were closing in all around her.

Joey’s rage followed closely behind his brother’s but had the clarity not to take it out on Jonathan.

In the depths of her soul, Layne wanted to believe that those words never came out of Liam’s mouth. Yet, all she could hear was her brother’s twisted laughter inside of her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force all the thoughts back into a tiny black box inside of her where she never had to acknowledge they existed.

When her eyelids popped back open, Joey was ripping Gage off of her associate who appeared so shaken that she would be surprised if he hadn’t pissed his pants.

Getting in Jonathan’s face, Gage spat out threat after threat, “If any of you fuckers ever consider laying a goddamn finger on her, I will fucking toss you into a bath of nitric acid and watch you rot!” He clenched onto the front of Jonathan’s shirt, gave him several harsh shakes, and refused to let go.

She fought the urge to look around at the gawkers who were watching the scene they were causing in the otherwise tame atmosphere. Instead, she focused on reeling in her thoughts within the unraveling chaos in her small little world there at the table.

Attempting to force the trembling sensation in her limbs to cease, she got onto her feet. She put a hand each on Joey and Gage to draw their attention. Maybe it was the pleading look in her eyes or the draining of color from her face, but the hold on Jonathan’s shirt was relinquished and Gage allowed Joey to pull him back a few steps.

Her head was spinning, so when she spoke to her associate who was sitting there wide-eyed, she wasn’t even sure how much of what she said was intelligible. “Find out why—why he bought the house.”

---