Page 103 of Arranged Obsession
Cormac takes over. He looks so graceful as he gets into position and aims the weapon. “Cover your ears,” he says, and I put my hands over them as hard as I can.
That barely muffles the sound. It’s like an airplane crashes to the floor. My ears ring, and I pat at the side of my head to try to clear the noise away. It doesn’t help. I stare, eyes wide, at the little hole in the window. Cormac pulls back, grinning and gesturing for me to look.
“That’s it?” I ask, stunned and elated, heart racing.
“Look fast. We have to go.”
I stare through the sight. Taras is standing, looking horrified, a big bullet hole in the wall behind him. He’s not moving, like he’s too scared to scream. Sweat’s pouring down his forehead, and his cheeks are flushed. His hands are clutched at his chest like he can barely believe his heart’s still beating.
“That’s good,” I say quietly, smiling like I mean it. “That’s really good.”
Chapter 34
Cormac
Ican remember maybe five times I’ve been summoned to one of my father’s war meetings.
Typically, they don’t want the Ghostman lurking around.
I’m a little too unnerving.
But tonight, it’s only me and my brothers. The other Whelan family generals are either busy or out keeping an eye on our operations.
It’s strange, parking out front of the rowdy Irish pub right in the center of our Bronx power base, how all I want is for Bianca to be with me right now. I hate leaving her behind. It drives me fucking crazy. Though most men in my position would probably make some joke about theirball and chainand be happy for a little time away from family life.
That’s not me.
I can’t get enough of her and the little world we’re making for ourselves.
Even if it’s coming along slowly and had a rocky start.
At least, rocky from her perspective.
To me, though, she’s always been a saint. And yesterday only helped prove it.
She could’ve blown the head off of Taras Morozov with ease. One little squeeze of the trigger. That was all it would’ve taken, and she would’ve gotten revenge for her friend Elena.
I can’t be sure that Taras ordered the bombing, but there’s no doubt that he approved in some form.
But she resisted. A weaker person might’ve taken the shot.
Not my feather.
I loved her so much in that moment when she asked me to give him a warning instead of ending his life. I love her even more every day, the intensity of my desire for her only growing each morning I wake with her in my bed.
It’s wild and unnerving how deeply she’s buried in my mind.
Like the thought of her is a part of me now.
I get out of the car and drift into the pub. There’s noise and laughter from the patrons. I get a few knowing looks from people who recognize me, and the bartender indicates the back with his chin. I head into a private room and pause beside the table.
My father’s sitting at the head with a glass of whiskey. An expensive bottle rests in the middle of the table. Declan’s to his right, Finn’s to his left, and Seamus is at the other end. Everyone looks at me, and it’s obvious I interrupted their conversation.
I know my brothers meet with my father all the time. That makes perfect sense. Seamus runs street operations, and Declan’s essentially my father’s right hand. Finn doesn’t have a set roleexactly, but now that he’s a part of the Marino deal, he’s got important work. And I think everyone just likes having him around.
This isn’t my normal scene, though.
“Take a seat,” Dad says, jerking his head toward Finn’s side of the table. I slide around and slump down into my chair.
