Page 35 of Sunrise Malice

“But even still, he found out when the drugs were going to show up and he set a fucking ambush.” I grab Jean by the arm, finger digging into his muscle. “Somebody talked.”

Jean pulls himself away and kicks at some shell casings. “They could’ve gotten lucky. They could’ve guessed.”

“We both know that’s bullshit.”

He grunts and runs a hand through his hair. “I really don’t want to think that we have a traitor right now.”

“How many people knew about this drop-off?”

“The men here. I personally vetted them all. Beyond that?” He shrugs and gestures in the air. “It was just between us and Ronan.”

“Then we’d better keep this quiet for now. Dusan got to someone in our crew—find whoever it was.”

Jean grunts in reply, and before I can give him more commands, a truck roars down the road and comes to a screeching halt.

“Well, fuck,” I grumble as Ronan Hayes gets out with guards shadowing his every step. The big Irish boss gives his dead driver one hard look before spotting me and storming over.

“What the fuck happened here?” he barks at me, snarling like an unhinged dog. “My soldier is dead. My truck is missing.”

“My shipment is missing with it,” I say, getting right in his face, not backing down.

“Explain, Julien, before I lose it. You’re the one that wanted this delivery here tonight instead of our usual place. Make me understand.”

I tell him what I know. He listens, looking impatient. “I believe it was Petrovic hitting us back for the attack on his safehouse the other night,” I finish, crossing my arms and holding Ronan’s stare.

He curses and paces back and forth. Normally, he’s a levelheaded guy with a light heart and a good sense of humor, but right now he’s all Irish mob boss. The rage coming off him is palpable, and I can’t blame him. This must look like a goddamn shitshow from his perspective.

“You’re dragging me into a war,” he says, finally turning on me. “This trash with Dusan. What the hell were you thinking?”

I want to tell him about Grandpère, but those are only excuses at this point. “It’s about long-term survival. Dusan has territory I need, and I’m in a position to take it. There’s nothing personal.”

“Motherfucker.” Ronan leans toward me like he wants to hit me in the face, and honestly, I wouldn’t blame him. “You married one of my girls. You built this bond between our families, and then you went after Petrovic. You fucking planned this, didn’t you?”

God fucking damn it, he’s completely right to think that. “That wasn’t my intention,” I say, keeping my voice level, but even I don’t believe it. There’s no way Ronan isn’t going to see everything I’ve done as some devious plot to drag him into a fight he doesn’t want, and really, that’s giving me a lot of credit. But once again, Grandpère has backed me into a corner, and I find myself defending a fight I don’t even want to begin with.

“You’re full of fucking shit. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call off our alliance.”

“I’m still married to Brianne,” I say, meeting his stare.

His face hardens. “You’re going to use her against me?”

I drop my voice and move closer to him. “Did you know what her father was doing to her, you selfish fuck?”

His expression falters and his skin pales. His hands tremble with anger and he stays right in my face, not backing down. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“You act all righteous, and yet you knew that girl was being abused, and you didn’t do shit about it.”

“I married her off. I fixed the problem.”

“You should have broken that fucking asshole’s spine,” I snap in his face, getting angry now. Ronan knew what was happening to Brianne, and instead of stepping in, he took the coward’s route.

“I did what was best for my family. And now you’re going to jeopardize everything.”

“Like it or not, you’re as imperfect as I am, Ronan. And now we’re in this war together.”

Ronan’s eye twitches. He wants to fucking kill me, and a sick voice in the back of my mind wants him to try it.Come on, asshole, hit me.Give me a reason to hit you back. Give me a reason to hurt you.

Instead, he turns away. “I won’t back your play, but I won’t get in the way, either.”