Page 44 of Irish Reign

“Piscín,” Braiden says, and his palm is warm against my cheek. I’m surprised by how much I need his touch, how much I need to hear him say my pet name. “I’ll never marry Fiona,” he says. “But you can make Russo think I will.”

I’m shakier than I should be, like I’ve just slammed on the brakes to avoid a deer in the middle of the road.If Fiona marries another captain… If someone else becomes General… If someone comes for the Fishtown Boys…

“I’ll never marry Fiona,” Braiden says again.

I nod, because voicing all my other fears will get us nowhere. I jam confidence into my words, pretending I believe them. “Russo will buy that. That I’m turning on you because of her. But I still need to give him something specific. Something worth a lot. He has to think I stole it from you out of spite.”

I’m right.

Braiden knows I’m right.

But this is hard enough that he forces himself to his feet. He paces my office with a grim determination. He looks out at the yard. At the neighbors’ homes beyond our strip of green. He studies the sky, as if the clouds have written him a secret message.

“Roy Krakower,” he finally says.

“Roy Law-and-order?” The press has been all over the new commissioner of prisons. In his first three months on the job, Krakower has seen two Black men die in city jails, he ordered a pregnant prisoner shackled to her hospital bed during delivery, and he made sure three gay men were sent to solitary confinement when they complained about being assaulted.

Braiden says, “Krakower has a brand-new penthouse two blocks from City Hall. He likes the view as a backdrop when he makes home movies.”

“Movies?” A fresh surge of acid in my stomach warns me I won’t like what comes next.

“Boys,” Braiden says, then shrugs. “Men. Old enough to work construction, anyway. He likes them in hard hats. Lug boots. Two, three, four at a time.”

“You have proof?”

“Kelly Construction built the penthouse. Most profitable job we had last year. It’s amazing where you can hide cameras these days.”

“Jesus,” I say, because not a single class in law school prepared me for the casual blackmailing of a city official.

Braiden says, “If Russo plays his cards right, he can use the story to muscle in on Paragon. Take the whole project from Kelly Construction.”

Paragon is Roy Law-and-order’s program to upgrade one of the city’s jails. The fifty-million-dollar contract hasn’t formally been awarded yet, but Braiden’s company placed the leading bid. He’s likely to see the payout over the next five years. “You can’t give up that much.”

Braiden’s shoulders twitch. “What option do I have? If I give you one of my clubs or a contact at the port or a gambling book, it’ll take months for Russo to see a profit.”

That’s true. But I have to say, “You can’t pass up fifty million dollars. You need the money.”

His lips twitch in a grim smile. “I’m selling the Book of Skreen. That’ll make up some of the shortfall.”

“But fifty?—”

“Russo has to know you’re a valuable asset from the moment you place that call.”

So he doesn’t kill you.

Braiden doesn’t say it out loud. He doesn’t have to. Antonio Russo has to get more satisfaction out of keeping me alive than he would by murdering me.

“All right,” I finally say. “I’ll give him Krakower.”

And I need to do it now. Because once the ethics board issues its decision, my power to do anything involving the freeport is destroyed.

My palms are sweating. I wipe them on my jeans and reach for my phone. “You don’t have to stay for this,” I say.

“Not a feckin’ chance I’ll go.”

I’ll lose if I argue. So I tap the screen and find the private number Russo fed me months ago. I place the call on speaker.

Russo answers part-way through the first ring. “Giovanna. What a pleasant surprise.” He doesn’t sound surprised. He sounds like a man cleaning his gun.

---