Page 93 of Ronan

“We have so much we need to talk about. You don’t even know who I really am.”

I scoff. “Ya know I’m not an eejit. How do ya think I learned yer name? Where did ya think I got it from?”

She stops and chews on her lip as she gives me a doe-eyed expression. I hold up a glass for her to come and take. When she walks over and takes it from my hand, I grab her by the waist and tug her into my lap.

“I asked a friend who ya were after seeing ya in a photo in his office. I knew him and the other men in the photo. It was when he answered the question that I found out ya were the niece of a man I once called a good friend.”

“You knew Uncle Freddie. He was your friend who didn’t like talking about the past.” She pauses and narrows her eyes at me. “You’re the liaison for the Irish families. The one I’m not supposed to go find. He said to allow you to come to me.”

“What do ya mean?”

“He left me a letter with his will. Sort of a warning and instructions on what to do and what not to do in case of his untimely demise. He said the head boss would find me, or I would know when to find him. I’ve met him.”

“Are ya talking about … the Italian?”

“LaSalle, yes, him. I did him a favor, like Uncle Freddie said I would. That let me know it was the start.”

“Ya mean the Albanians. I was there, love. I enjoyed watching ya work.”

She furrows her brows. “Huh?”

“Bujar didn’t see either of us coming. I had been there to take care of him for you, but you were already coming out of the air when I pulled the trigger.”

“I thought I was tripping or something. When I went to carve the tat off, I noticed the wound. His head had been half mashed in, so I couldn’t be sure.”

“Ya cut his tat off?”

“Yeah, his and Dalmat’s. I had to send proof,” she says as if to say duh.

I grow hard and can’t help tugging her in for a passionate kiss. I kiss her roughly. Then I move my lips to her neck and begin a trail of open-mouthed kisses.

I reach into the keyhole of the dress she’s wearing and palm her breast to knead it. I groan as she gives back as good as she’s getting. Just when I’m about to lay her down and have my fill for the first time in over a week, she pulls back, breaking the kiss.

“Wait, hold on, baby. We’re getting off topic. We have time for all of that. I think you should know the rest.”

“Sorry,” I say, placing my forehead to hers. I then take a calming breath. “Go on. Tell me more about this letter.”

“After telling me LaSalle and I would find each other, he said two more things would happen and those would be signs too. One of those things was the liaison for the Irish families coming to me. He didn’t say how or when. However, he did give a cryptic message about being open to him when he found me.

“Holy shit. It all makes so much fucking sense now. Uncle Freddie knew me better than anyone. He knew you were the last thing I would expect.

“Relationships are a hard pass for me.” She palms her forehead and shakes her head. “This is insane. I don’t even know how he knew any of those things.

“I just trusted his word. I loved my uncle so much. His word was law. He’s the only man who I was able to trust who never hurt me in return.”

“Phoebe Romaine.”

“Huh? Who?”

“She’s a Gypsy. She’s been the fortuneteller for the underworld for years. She has her favorites. Your uncle was one of them. Ach, but why didn’t she tell him about …”

“That he was going to die suddenly? He did know. The letter said as much. In his words, ‘everything needs to play out just as it is.’”

“Aye, Phoebe usually tells us so—unless it’s meant to be changed. To alter what she tells us is to alter the outcome. That usually involves more than just the person she gives the warning to.”

“Where do we go from here? I mean, you know who I am and what I do. I take it you’re no slouch if you’re the point man for the entire Irish syndicate.

“Something big is coming and I’m meant to be in the middle of it. I don’t want that to come between us. I want to get to know the real you and I want you to know the real me.”

---