Page 24 of Dublin Charmer
“There will be a lot of movement between two of the McGuire warehouses and that warehouse tonight. You’ll be on overwatch. I need you to ensure those trucks aren’t stopped by the McGuires or by the cops.”
I open the map of holdings I designed for just this type of job. After adding the address of the new property, I run my fingers against the cool surface of the table and consider my options. “I have access to the traffic grid. I can give them green lights all the way. But even though I can tell them what’s coming, I’m not a god. I can’t stop the McGuires from defending their own properties.”
He gives a curt nod, his dark, beady eyes narrowing slightly as if gauging my resolve. “Leave the defending forces to me and my men. You just keep unwanted party crashers from slowing us down on the road.”
“That I can do.”
He seems pleased enough with that answer. “Don’t fuck this up, kid. I want my trucks to disappear into the night with no trace.”
The weight of his gaze hangs heavy between us. To avoid his scrutiny, I flip through the contents of the folder and make myself busy. It’s the deed, building plans, and site surveys of the new warehouse.
Damn, it’s massive.
It could likely hold the contents of most, if not all of the McGuire warehouse inventory in one location. Which is either ballsy or stupid. There’s a whole ‘putting your eggs in one basket’ theory he seems to have forgotten.
Not that I care. I plan on taking him down and destroying him the moment Gio is safe. But hey, if he wants me as overwatch while he fucks over the McGuires, that’s fine by me.
“I’ll be ready,” I assure him.
“I’ll text you the addresses of the McGuire properties involved when it’s go-time.”
A knock on the door brings two more guys into the room. Billy’s army are all a bunch of mercenary thugs draped in black that look just as menacing as their stony expressions suggest. They move like predators stalking prey, all focused intensity and cocky superiority.
Gravely lifts his chin in acknowledgement and then gestures to two of the empty seats. “Good. You’re here. Take a seat.”
They do as they’re told without hesitation. Their gazes dart between Gravely and me but they’re trained well enough that they don’t speak up. They are Gravely’s good little soldiers.
“You’re excused, Miss Farina,” Gravely announces flatly. “You are clear on your part in this, aye?”
I close my laptop and slip it into my bag, leaving the purchase information for Gravely’s new warehouse behind. “Crystal clear.”
It’s on. I’ve often wondered if he was going to double-cross the McGuires now or after he’s got Northside in his clutches. Maybe he actually believed he could wipe out the Quinn brothers at their party and is continuing with his plan as if he had.
But then why would he go after the McGuire warehouses and not them?
I don’t understand.
I suppose that’s a good thing. It might be more worrisome if I understood the workings of the mind of a psychotic killer and soulless criminal.
When my gear is stowed in my bag, I sling it over my shoulder and get the hell out of that room. Whatever Gravely has planned, there is a collision course brewing between forces larger and more powerful than me.
When I exit the room, I close the door behind me and take a knee to retie my shoe.
“Tonight’s the night,” Gravely tells the mercenary men still seated at the table. “While I take a team to eliminate the McGuires, you boys will oversee the transfer of holdings from their two most valuable warehouses to the new location.”
Ah, there it is.His plan to kill the McGuires doesn’t surprise me. Still, it’s a betrayal.
Billy was meant to partner with the McGuires. That was the dying wish of his best friend and former boss—Mattie McGuire.
To then kill his wife and sons? That’s cold.
Somewhere deep inside me simmers an urge to break free from this twisted game—to find Gio and pull us both out before we become mere pawns in someone else’s war. Because if he can kill his best friend’s family without caring, he’ll never give me or my brother a second thought.
But tonight? Tonight isn’t about freedom; it’s about survival—and keeping one step ahead while navigating this dangerous chessboard where every piece is potentially lethal.
Finn
The clock on my monitor reads 3:47 AM, but I barely register the time. I’ve been working with some familiar hacker friends on the dark web from around the world, showing them the nuances of the hacker’s attacks from the past two attempts to breach our network. They all agree they are better than good.
