Page 61 of My Irish Mafia King

"You're a coward, Frank," I yell. "You let him poison Grandad. You let him murder your own brother... and for what? So you could pretend to be Don while he really ran things."

Colm jogs into the room with six of our armed men.

I hold up my hand for them to wait. This is about more than ending these two scumbags. The legend of this is at hand. This is about making myself into a myth so that nobody ever dreams of betraying me. The legend of this day will spread, and everyone will know not to mess with the king.

"Don't be so naïve," Frank whines. "This is how the Family works."

"The Family is built on loyalty," I snap, then lower my voice. "Get me a flashbang and a regular grenade, Colm."

He looks uncertainly at me.

"Now," I tell him.

He turns and whispers with one of our men, then places the grenades on the counter near me.

"We're loyal to our blood. We're loyal to our men. You were never real Family men. You were never worthy of the crown. But fine, if you want it like that, I'll do it your way. I'll kill you to claim what's rightfully mine."

I take the flashbang, unpin it, then toss it down the hallway. A moment later, I toss the frag grenade. The two pop noises follow each other, dust and shrapnel kicking up, and then I charge down the hallway.

Colm roars at me to stop, but there's no way. Not after Owen threatened my woman, not after the fire, not after what they would've done if I wasn't there to stop them.

I leap over what's left of the barricade, aiming my gun. I glimpse Uncle Frank's torn neck, blood spewing, before taking a bullet to the chest. I gasp as agony spreads across my ribs, then I spin, aiming my gun.

Owen lies on the floor, shrapnel sticking out of his chest, struggling to hold his gun. I shoot him in the head. Not once, not twice. I shoot until my clip is empty, the recording, the threats replaying in my head as my ears ring with the gunshots.

"Nobody threatens my woman," I roar, dropping my gun, hammering my chest like a wild man, like the person I've never wanted to be. But this is who I need to become to keep my woman safe, our future family, the city, everyone.

"Nobody threatens my Family," I roar, kicking the bastard even though he's dead.

"Nobody, nobody, nobody."

I hit myself in the chest again, my ribs aching, my body pulsing with pain. But I barely feel it. All I feel is the intense desire to be with my lucky charm.

Twenty-Five

LUCY

"I'm going to bed," Anna says around ten PM. "Do you want me to take this little one?"

I look up, hardly registering her words. Killian texted me, saying he was coming home soon but needed to handle some Family-related matters first. That was four hours ago, and now my mind is playing an unhelpful lowlight reel of everything that could've gone wrong in the meantime.

"Yes, please," I say after a pause.

"I can stay up if you want?" Anna asks softly.

"You've got work tomorrow. I can't derail your life forever. Seriously, Anna, I'm fine... and thank you."

She walks over, leaning down for a hug. I hold tightly onto my friend. Once she's gone, I pull my knees to my chest and try not to think about Killian with a red smear across his face, or his chest torn open, or a thousand other sick visions that won't leave me alone.

I go to the kitchen, grabbing another scone and slathering it with cream. I'm comfort eating. Sue me. The scones are pretty darn good, if I say so myself, and it takes my mind off the stress for a few moments. I slather another with jam and cream, then almost choke on it when I hear the front door open.

I run to the hallway. Killian walks into the apartment, looking... darker than usual. It's not one specific thing. It's more like his aura. It's like there's a burden dragging him down, circumstances weighing heavily on him.

Rushing toward my man, I throw myself into his arms, clinging tightly onto his body. When he winces, I lean away. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he growls.

I move my hands to his shirt, undoing a button when I see a nasty purple bruise sticking out. I undo two more buttons, then open the shirt flap. "What happened?" I gasp.

---