Page 29 of Queen of Blades

Eddie worked his fingers through his short blond hair. “Your cleanup crew bumped into another one. Any hope that they wouldn’t find out who was responsible went right out the window.”

“It could’ve been Harper.” Paul gestured in her direction. “She’s feisty.” He twisted and waved at the cut in his side.

Shimmying her shoulders, she nodded, accepting the compliment.

“Either way, Niall knows we were involved. Not you specifically, but us,” Eddie continued. “And he’s kind of pissed that his nephew ate a bullet.”

Harper narrowed her eyes as she listened. They either forgot she was there—unlikely considering they were just talking to her—or they didn’t care about her overhearing because she was a dead woman walking. Whatever. She wasn’t moving. This was valuable information.

Niall. She knew that name. Her dad was bitching about him last week.

“It’s the Irish who want me dead?” she blurted, interrupting their conversation.

“No.” Paul didn’t even look at her. “He was careless,” he said of the man he’d killed. “If he’d actually taken his time, he might still be here, but no. He went off all crazed and got what he deserved. Niall is better off not having such a wild card under him.”

Eddie rubbed his fingers along his forehead. “Well, suffice it to say, he and Dad are arguing about turf now. The Irish reneged on a gun deal. They want your head on a platter.”

Paul scoffed. “Fuck them.”

Harper’s jaw shifted as she listened intently.Interesting. Paul fucked up pretty badly.

“Yeah, Dad agreed, but that doesn’t change that we’re now on their shit list.”

Paul waved a hand dismissively. “They’ll get over it. Dad and Uncle Joseph will figure it out.”

“There’s more,” Eddie announced.

Harper was on the edge of her seat. If only she had popcorn. Though it was probably bad form to interrupt and ask. She supposed she could wait.

Paul scrubbed the back of his neck. “Of course there is.”

As he rubbed his temples, a pang of sympathy thrummed within her chest. She shouldn’t feel bad for him, but she couldn’t help it. The poor guy looked stressed as hell.

“They upped the bounty,” Eddie said.

“So itisthe Irish,” Harper interjected.

Both of them glared at her.

“No.” Paul’s brother shook his head. “The Irish just added to it because they’re pissed off. You’re a package deal now. Sixty million total. Thirty from the Colombians, and Niall is fronting the other half.”

Harper’s brows flew up. “The Colombians want me dead?”

Paul cursed under his breath, turned, and punched the stainless steel refrigerator.

With shoulders sagging, Eddie turned toward her, letting Paul stomp off, growling as he threw the back door open, nearly taking it off the hinges. His brother approached her, and she cautiously stepped back.

He reached for her hands. She allowed him to take both but eyed him with skepticism despite the weary, yet comforting expression on his face. “No, love. It’s not the Irish, the Colombians, the Bratva, the Yakuza, or even the Sicilians.”

“Then who?”

Sighing, he hung his head. “We don’t really know. The Colombians brought it to the table on behalf of their friends. The price is so high, no one thought to ask. It was unnecessary information. When the bounty is that lucrative, and you have a known syndicate vouching for it, you let them remain anonymous.”

“Who has that kind of money?” Harper wondered aloud.

Releasing her, Eddie shrugged. “The world’s a big place. I think the easier question is, who have you pissed off so bad that you put my brother in the line of fire?”

Suddenly, his gaze darkened. Gone was his empathy and his patience. Rage emanated from him and prickled her skin.

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