Page 19 of My Irish Mafia King

Reaching for my necklace, I unhook the clasp and place it on my bedside table.

Eight

KILLIAN

Isit outside my uncle’s estate, Shane in the back seat, a hood over his head, his hands cuffed in his lap. It’s been one hell of a day. I’d stuffed Shane in my walk-in closet and cuffed him to a supporting beam while I’d spirited his prisoner outside of the city. She’s currently in the hands of an elite security agency, charged with taking her home to Maine, where she’s originally from.

Someonetraffickedher here. When they felt the heat from the police, they scattered their prisoners, which is why Shane brought her to Lucy’s bakery. It was the only place he could think of to hide until the heat died down.

“I should put a bullet in your head,” I growl.

Shane whimpers, no longer the tough guy. Every time I look at him, rage bubbles up inside me. I can’t stop thinking about what he did to my lucky charm... except she’s not my lucky charm anymore, is she? I remember the way she stared at me as if I were a monster. She probably wants nothing to do with me. Can I blame her?

I take out my cell and call Uncle Frank.

“Hello, dear nephew,” he says.

“Call off the guards at your front gate.”

“Now, why would I do a thing like that?”

“I’ve got Shane Delaney in my backseat, cuffed with a hood over his head, half alive… or half dead, depending on your perspective.”

“What thefuck?”

“Call the guards off and open the gate. I know you’ll be forced to retaliate if they see what I’ve done.”

“Jesus Christ, Killian.”

I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. I know from Ronan that Lucy is safe. She’s with her friend, and she knows everything about me. She knows I’m a mafia prince, that I worked as an enforcer for a few years. She knows the idea she had of me is completely wrong. She’ll never see me the same way again.

I push those depressing thoughts away. When the guards open the gate and leave their posts, I guide my car between the stone pillars and up to his house. Frank is waiting for me at the door, leaning against the frame, glaring.

I climb from the car, lock it, then walk up the stairs.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Frank snaps.

“Shane had a lot of interesting things to say when I threatened to remove his teeth, Uncle Frank,” I snarl. “It seems you’ve ventured beyond cut-price electronics, laundering, financial crime, and political blackmail. It seems you decided that wasn’t earning you enough. Human trafficking, Uncle? Human fuckingtrafficking?”

“Watch your tone, boy.”

I stare down at him, my hands twitching. “Shane told me that, so far, you’ve only agreed to store people like products for big-time traffickers, but you’ve seen how much they earn; you want to make inroads into thebusinessyourself.”

Frank leers at me. “Look at you, Killian. Turns out you know how to get your hands dirty after all.”

I grab his shirt and shove him against the wall, lifting him off his feet. “This is never what the Family was supposed to be. If Dad were here... But you made sure he’d never be able to stop you.”

Uncle Frank claws at my hands. “Let... me... go...”

“I saw the bloody ring in your office.”

“What ring?”

“The ring you took from him after you made him crash.”

I roar as I throw Uncle Frank to the floor. He climbs unsteadily to his feet. “You’ve got no right, boy.”

I take out my phone and flash the photo at him. “This was in your desk. A fucked-up memento from what you did, you bastard. Don’t deny it. And now you’re going to ruin this Family...”

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