Page 51 of Irish Reign

He’s calling my wife a whore, and I barely keep from smashing the shite-eating grin from his face. But Samantha has a plan. Samantha has a goal. If I can manage not to murder the fecker, she’ll see Russo in jail for a very long time, stripped of his money and his power.

Iwon’t be satisfied until he’s feeding catfish at the bottom of the Schuylkill River. Preferably after every joint in his body is broken and he’s been carved into bite-size pieces.

But I promised Samantha I’d try her way first. Forcing myself to relax my hands, I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. “Ready to go home,piscín?”

Samantha is wary, like a cat in a room full of strangers. She says, “I need some files from my office.”

“I’ll wait for you here.” I won’t let Russo follow her out of this room.

She leaves the door open, probably thinking that will keep me from murdering the goombah prick. She should know better than that by now.

I try to sound like I’m talking about the weather when I say, “Touch my wife again, and I’ll have your hands for paperweights.”

“Which wife is that?” Russo asks, his voice like the slick of oil on top of bad pizza. “You already killed the madwoman in your attic. I hear you mean to wed the Boston girl, the one who broke yourcoglioniat the Rittenhouse. Or are you talking about my Giovanna?”

“Her name’s Samantha Kelly. And she’s mine.”

“Are you sure she knows that?”

His smug smile makes my knuckles itch. But I answer with words instead of the haymaker I’d love to plant on his cleft chin. “Shechoseme. A concept you might understand if you ever had a woman you didn’t need to buy or shame or terrify to get into your bed.”

Russo clicks his tongue like he’s talking to a naughty child. “Always about the sex with you. A woman can be good for more than tickling thatpisellinobetween your legs.”

“Don’t pretend you know anything about what a woman’s good for.”

“Some women are very good at telling stories,” he says. “My Giovanna, for example. Once upon a time, the worst story Giovanna knew was about the laws she broke. But now she tells me more. Much more. She tells me about lawsyouhave broken.”

Samantha told him about Krakower—that was our plan.

But Russo wants me to believe she’s told him more than that. She’s babbled about the Fishtown Boys, about deals we’ve made, jobs we’ve pulled. But I know Samantha better than that. She won’t betray me. This gobshite can’t break that bond between us.

“She was not willing to speak at first,” Russo says, as if he’s read my mind. “But after she found out about your first wife, the one in the attic… And then that Boston bitch… Let us just say my sweet Giovanna has found a whole new use for her pretty little mouth. Asking for help from a real man.”

The sound that rips my throat isn’t human. I forget why I’m not allowed to destroy this piece of shite, why I can’t shove my fist through his fucking sternum and squeeze his heart until he screams for mercy.

Russo’s not an eejit. He put a chair between us before he yanked my chain, but I’m mad enough to think I can hurdle over the leather to reach him.

“What the fuck is going on here!” The cry comes from the doorway, deeper and louder than anything I’m expecting.

I wheel by reflex, arm already pulling back to land a blow. As soon as I get rid of the intruder, I can get back to my true enemy. But I recognize the voice even as I’m shifting my weight. I can’t fight Trap Prince in his own conference room, inside the freeport he owns.

“Back it up, motherfucker,” he roars at me, shouldering past. “That’s right.” He growls, pointing to the foot of the table, behind me. “Over there.”

I stalk across the room like it’s my own idea.

Prince rounds on Russo before I can change my mind. “You too, cocksucker,” he says to Russo, pointing to the other end of the table. And when Russo doesn’t move fast enough: “Now, asshole!”

All three of us are breathing like rutting bulls, but Russo follows orders. Prince plants his hands on the polishedmahogany, making a wall out of his body. “I’m only saying this once,” he snarls at both of us. “Your investments in Diamond Freeport can make us all a lot of money. And your membership in the Diamond Ring can be a benefit to you, to me, and the ten other men in the group. But I’ve had bodies carried out of this place before. And I’m not afraid to do it again.”

I’ve been present for two of those corpse removals. I don’t know if there’ve been more, and I don’t actually want to find out.

Prince goes on. “Sam Mott is one of the smartest women I know. She says she can work with both of you, and she says the two of you can work together. Don’t make her a liar.”

I want to correct him—her name’s Samantha Kelly. And from the look on Russo’s face, he’s getting ready to test Prince himself, to call her Giovanna.

But neither of us gets a chance to make his point. Instead, Prince says, “I don’t trust either one of you to do what’s fucking right. So let me give you both a little motivation even you dickheads can’t ignore. Whoever lands the first blow is out of the freeport forever. I’ll lose out on some income, but you’ll be paying tax consequences a hell of a lot longer.”

He glares at Russo first, then at me. “Questions?”

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