Page 11 of Conall's Reign

Theo hesitated, biting her lip before answering. “I borrowed it from your brother’s garage earlier. I figured it would be easier than buying it somewhere that might have cameras.” She flashed me an easy grin as I tried to ignore the stench coming from the car. “I disabled the security at your house and the cameras there, too. Perks of being your best friend.”

I stared at her, a blend of disbelief and reluctant gratitude swirling in my chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m practical,” she retorted, her gaze fixed on the inferno. The fire crackled and roared, smoke billowing into the night sky like a dark beacon. “Now, let’s hope this erases everything.”

We lingered for a moment longer, the heat pressing against our skin as we watched the evidence of my crime turn to ash.

“We’ve got to get out of here. This will take care of it. Let’s go.”

Later, as we lay clean and curled up in a bed at her brother’s place, she told me she handled the security footage at the club. Theo didn’t go into detail, but I was glad she had thought of it.

“We can never be sure. No one knows except us. Promise me.” Theo turned her body toward me, squeezing my hands in hers. “We deny, deny, deny.”

“I promise. Thank you for helping me. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“It’s over now. You’re fine. I’m fine. Otherwise, it would have escalated into war, and our brothers don’t need that.”

That was true. They had a lot on their plate, and the last thing I wanted was to be the spark for a conflict between my brother and anyone else. But…

“Theo?”

“Yeah?”

“I never imagined I would kill anyone.”

“I know.” There was pity and compassion in her voice.

“I feel bad.”

“I know,” she nodded.

“I will find a way to make it right. I have to.”

CHAPTER FIVE

francesca

AGE 26

I steppedoff the subway into the crisp morning air, clutching my bag as I quickened my pace toward Mount Sinai Hospital. The chill of the March air bit at my exposed cheeks, with the wind whipping strands of dark hair loose from my braid. The buzz of the city, from the wail of a distant siren to the chatter of early commuters, blended into a dull roar around me.

Inside the hospital, the warm air carried the faint yet unmistakable scent of antiseptic and coffee brewing somewhere out of reach. I adjusted my badge and concentrated on navigating the bustling lobby. Nurses, doctors, and patients moved purposefully, their voices rising in the familiar symphony that was characteristic of hospitals everywhere.

My stomach churned. I had skipped breakfast—again— and now, as I raced toward the elevators, the craving for caffeine twisted with the growing knot of anxiety in my chest. Another long clinical rotation loomed ahead, and I needed to be sharp. Who knew what kind of assignment I would face today? It could be anything, depending on my nursing supervisor’s decision. Sometimes, we received some pretty terrible assignments, but other times, they were fantastic.

After the incident two years ago, I vowed to find a way to make things right. I wasn’t sure I could ever rectify taking a life, but I knew I could be a more productive member of society than just a party girl. Drinking myself into oblivion hadn’t solved any of my problems. Maybe helping people was a better answer? I immersed myself in nursing school with enthusiasm. I already had a degree, but I realized I had a passion for nursing. I loved helping people and found that I actually had an innate interest in it.

My brothers didn’t understand it, but I was surprised that I didn’t have to fight too hard to win their support for attending school. In the mafia world, women typically didn’t work. I still struggled to accept the contract I’d seen in Angelo’s office, but no mention was made of it, and Theo and I decided that if they were going to ignore it, then we would, too. There was no point in kicking over the hornet’s nest.

Theo was the most supportive of my new interest. She championed my journey to becoming a nurse, studying with me and quizzing me when necessary. Even as my old friends faded from my life, it was Theo who remained constant, but of course, we had burned a body together. She was my ride-or-die.

“Coffee. I should have made time for coffee,” I muttered, pressing the elevator button more forcefully than necessary. The doors opened, but a familiar voice stopped me before I could step inside.

“Francesca.”

My stomach flipped, and all my nerve endings suddenly felt as if they were on fire. I turned, not exactly surprised but equally thrilled and annoyed, when my gaze landed on Conall O’Kelly. He stood near the seating area, wearing a dark wool coat. His presence was commanding despite the casual air he exuded. In his hand, he held a to-go cup. One of them—my heart gave a little jolt—was undoubtedly for me.

My name was neatly written on it, which I recognized as Conall’s handwriting. It was a small detail, but I loved that he had written it himself. I was fairly certain that the items he gave me came from his place. The cups were to-go containers and always the same: the name was printed in blocky letters, with no capital letter and a small dot after the last letter. The man was fussy and particular to a fault.

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