Page 1 of Mob Bride

Chapter One

Shane

UNEXPECTED MOVEMENT DETECTED

What now?

I tap on the security feed from one of my construction sites. Which fucking family is it this time? I swear to God, if it’s the motherfucking Diazes, Imma torch their entire fucking art gallery. Let’s see how that fucking opening goes tomorrow night.

“Ted, change of plans. We need to check out the new mall site. Trespassers.”

My bodyguard nods and speaks in his earpiece. I’m with my brothers and their wives at a concert that’s about to start. Fucking orchestra pit seats. These cost me enough to keep Finn and Ally’s impending bundle of joy in diapers for the next two years. So much for being part of their celebration.

I tap Finn on the shoulder and explain I have to go and that I’m taking three of our guys. With eight of my family out in such a crowded place—including three wives, one of whom is three-and-a-half months pregnant—we have nearly every available guy with us working security.

It’s walking distance to the site, so that means no chance of headlights tipping these fuckers off and no driving blind onto the site. The heat-seeking sensors our security system includes for situations just like this shows one person. It doesn’t matter that they’re alone. All four of us have our guns drawn as we circle whoever the hell is wandering around our property.

Motherfucking son of a goddamn bitch.

“Put ’em down.”

“Shane, th–”

“Now. Go.”

“Bu–”

“Mikey, do it. All of you go.”

I point my gun to the sky and put my other hand up as I wait for my men to leave. When I’m alone with my unwanted visitor, I squat and lower my gun to the ground before pushing it away.

“Put yours down.”

“No.”

It’s not like I expected a different answer, but I’m giving them a chance to lower their gun. I straighten and step forward.

“You can move it from pointing at my chest to my head, but you won’t shoot me.” That’s met with silence. “If you were going to shoot, you would’ve already. You wouldn’t have waited to see who approached. You would be fine with dying because that’s what would’ve happened since there’re four of us and one of you. That’s what’ll happen if you shoot me now. No one who’s had the shite beaten out of them like you have and is hiding wants to die. Just the opposite. Put the gun down.”

Still nothing. That’s not the surprise tonight.

“Do you know who I am?”

“No.”

“Do you know who owns this site?”

“Don’t care.” The defiant tone matches the steadiness of the hands still pointing a Ruger 9mm at me.

“Thought so. If you did, you’d know I’m angrier than you can ever imagine. If I have to take that gun from you, I will hurt you. If I see another bruise on you, I’m going to lose my shite in a way you don’t want to imagine.”

“Red hair and a temper. What part of that do you think makes me feel safe?”

“The part that said none of it’s directed at you. Who the feck touched you? Unless you’re in a fecking fight club, you’re going to tell me.”

I walk toward the woman who looks like she’s been through a meat grinder, and it takes every ounce of resolve not to yell at her. I want to know who the fuck laid their hands on her. She should be at the fucking hospital not trying to defend herself again.

“That’s none of your business.”

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