Page 49 of My Irish Mafia King

It’s good. It means my naïve tone is working. He sees me as a misguided young woman, beneath his contempt. His age and his culture and his personality are bending toward the perception I want him to have… that I would never have the guile to trick him.

“Do you think Killian could do that if he wasn’t in the mob?” Owen snaps. “Your magnanimous mogul isn’t who you think he is.”

I gasp, shooting my eyebrows up, hoping I’m not going too far. “What!”

Owen pushes away from the door, walking toward me… no longer leaning on his stick. In fact, everything about him changes. He seems fitter, more capable, no longer a harmless old man.

“You made a mistake asking to speak with me alone,” he growls, reaching into his pocket and taking out a pistol.

Are you going to shoot me?I almost say that, but if I let Killian know he’s just pulled a gun, he’ll rush in here before I can get the proof we need.

“But I should thank you… Shane was wrong to mention my name, but he wasn’t lying, you stupid bitch. Do you think that drunk moron runs the Family?I’min charge. I’ve always been in charge. From the very beginning.”

“I just want to know why you sent those men after me,” I whisper. “It was Killian who got rid of Shane and that girl. Not me. I didn’t ask him to.”

He raises the gun. “Then you have your answer.”

“Those men weren’t targeting me,” I whisper, struggling to stay calm, but exerting all the willpower I have. “Why burn down my bakery?”

“It’s beyond your comprehension. You’re not part of this world. You don’t understand the importance of messages. But soon, you’ll learn how this all works. I’ve seen the suspicion in Killian’s eyes… and I see the way he looks at you. We’re going to work together. You’re going to keep tabs on him. If he shits, I’m going to know about it.”

“I won’t do that,” I say.

He laughs in disbelief, prodding me with the cold barrel of the gun. Sweat slides down my body. “You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“I want nothing to do with the mob,” I hiss. “I never did. Please, just let me go. I’ll leave the city. You’ll never hear from me again.”

“I’ve survived and thrived this long by recognizing a potential tool when I see one,” he says. “Shane was right;Irun this fucking Family, and I always have. If you think the fire was bad, you’re truly more ignorant than you seem. I can make your life agony from the moment you open your eyes to the moment I finally allow you to pass out.”

“Killian’s been through enough,” I snap. “Don’t make me betray him. He’s had too much tragedy already.”

When Owen smirks, I know this is the right tactic. I’m on the right track. I just have to keep pushing forward, bury the fear, bury the desire to scream for my man to rush in here and save me.

“Killian is a spoiled little shit who doesn’t appreciate how fortunate he is,” Owen snaps. “Most men in his position would’ve leapt at the chance he had.”

“What chance?” I hiss. “The chance to lose his grandfather before he had a chance to really know him? Or the chance to lose his dad? What the heck are you even talking about?”

“You’re a dumb slut,” Owen snaps. “Killian is theprinceof this Family. If he wanted, he could’ve picked up the crown the day his father died. Instead, he managedrestaurants. That’s the most ludicrous thing he could’ve done. It’s an insult to all the men who have been fighting and climbing their entire lives to be where they are.”

“But you haven’t fought, Owen,” I say, hitting his ego, knowing it’s going to hurt, knowing he’s going to feel the misguided need to defend it. “I might not know everything, but I’m not as dumb as you seem to think. Frank is the Don of the Family. I’ve been listening all night long.He’sin charge. Hetookwhat he wanted. I heard the rumors. I heard what he did. He was willing to kill his own brother. You just stayed on the sidelines.”

I gasp when Owen grabs the front of my dress and pulls me toward him. He moves the barrel of the gun toward my mouth, pressing it between my lips. Suddenly, I’m a lost kid again, walking across the windswept fields, a storm coming, no savior in sight.

“Frank didn’t do a goddamn thing,” Owen snarls, spittle flying from his mouth. “You need to speak to me with some respect. You’re looking at a god. For years, I’ve shown everyone what I wanted them to see. When dear dead grandaddy died, I was a mourning friend. When the next Don slid off the road, I was a grieving brother-in-arms. Nobody looked at me. Not once. I’ve played my role perfectly. You’re looking at a man capable of killingtwogenerations of Dons and getting away with it. What do you think I’ll do with you? Now, nod if you understand; you work for me now?—”

Suddenly, the door bursts open. Killian rushes in, aiming his gun at Owen, another man beside him.

Owen moves far faster than I would’ve expected from him, turning around and placing the gun against the side of my head. Killian stares with pure hate in his eyes.

“Let her go,” he growls.

“Motherfucker,” Owen snaps.

“It’s over. I heard it all.”

“Is this bitch wearing a wire?”

“It’s over.”

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