Page 27 of King of the Cage

“You think because I love her, I won’t force her to do what’s best for the family? If you’re not sure, look at your mother… She didn’t want to marry me, no doubt she told you.” He glanced at the picture over the bar. It was a watercolor painting my mam had done of the old farm outside Dublin, where the O’Connor family had first lived. He seemed lost in thought as he stared at it.

“She never said so directly,” I admitted, fascinated to get a glimpse of my father’s perspective on his ill-fated marriage to my mam. “How did you make her?”

Da’s voice was soft, traveling through time. “I stole her skin.”

Stole her skin?Before I could question that odd comment, he coughed. One of his men drifted closer.

“You should go home,” he said to Da.

Da nodded and let the man turn his wheelchair.

“Renato will never go for it,” I told him flatly. “Whatever sacrificial lamb you have in mind to force to become an O’Connor, Renato will never agree.”

“You’re right. That’s why we don’t give him a choice. You marry the girl, and then we work things out. Ask for forgiveness, never permission.”

“Who are you even talking about? Sofia is long married, to Nikolai. As we both know. He doesn’t share.”

“Yes, unfortunately there was only one De Sanctis girl. I’m thinking of the Santoris. Elio Santori’s little sister, to be exact.”

My heart suddenly beat hard. That feeling of fate, pressing down on all sides of me, closing in. An inevitable path appearing beneath my feet… to become a man like my father after all. I’d vowed a long time ago to never be like him.

My da coughed again, the sound similar to what I’d imagine hacking up a lung might sound like. He cleared his throat and glared at me weakly.

“You know what you have to do and what I expect of you. I know you’ve pretty much ducked out on O’Connor life, so this is the one thing I’ll ask of you. If you care about your sister, you’ll do it. Marry the Santori woman and do it quick. There’s no time to waste.”

Da was wheeled toward the door. “Get it done, Brandon, and make me proud. You have a real chance, this time. Make me proud.”

And then he was out the door, his security surrounding him, leaving me there to stare after him.

Níl aon comhtharlúintí ann, níl ann ach cinniúint.

There are no coincidences, only fate.

7

BRAN

After Da left, I headed upstairs to my apartment, stripped off the suffocating suit I’d been wearing for far too long, and promptly passed out. I was beyond exhausted; my brain burned the fuck out. I needed sleep.

By the time I woke up, it was late afternoon, and beyond the window, the city rushed into another chaotic evening.

I lit a cigarette and inhaled slowly. My mam, bless her, had always tried to get me to quit, back when she still knew who I was.

“That’ll kill you, Bran, and then what’ll we all do without you?”

Mam was the only one between my parents who had worried about that. That was then, of course, and it had always annoyed me when she picked at me. Now, I’d trade ten years in prison for the chance to have Mam niggle me about smoking. When she’d gotten dementia, my world had spun off its axis. I was still waiting for it to go back to normal.

Now, I was a stranger to Mam. She mistook me for a male nurse sometimes when I visited her, or worse, a thug come to rob her.Only Quinn remained steadfast and unwavering. The one person who trusted me, and last night… she’d nearly been hurt.

Last night had been close, far too fucking close, and I couldn’t let it happen again. I inhaled deeply, the nicotine racing through my veins, relaxing for the first time since Declan had showed up at Giada’s door.

Giada’s striking face filled my head.

What a fucking woman. My future wife? Ha, I doubted any man would survive forcing that wildcat into holy matrimony.

I ambled to the window and pushed it up as far as it could go, leaning out to look down at a bustling Hell’s Kitchen. My domain, my American home. It was noisy and chaotic. It suited my personality.

Cian, my man for surveillance, called me as I smoked and watched the traffic snake through the neighborhood. The city was loud in the background, screaming sirens and trash collectors overlapped by cars honking and people talking too loudly.

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