Page 87 of Stolen Mafia Vows
As agreed with Terry, there has been no communication between the Murrays and the Byrnes since my arrival in New York. He suggested that the planned timing for our ‘strike’ would be made obvious. Between us, we’ll be targeting the Murray business and the bratva property simultaneously.
But ultimately, our rivals are in full control of the situation.
“The Murrays are attending a high-profile event in three days’ time. Moira will accompany her husband and sons, but Caleb’s wife and baby daughter will be out of the city; apologies for her absence have already been made.”
This is it. This is the signal we’ve been waiting for.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins. Uncle Donal and his men have laid the groundwork, Liam is the brains, but this is where I take over. No more waiting around for Terry to jump in and play the hero in his daughter’s rescue mission.
“And the bratva?”
This is the crucial part of the strategy. If we’ve done enough, they should be ready to target the Murray businesses at the same time. Take both Irish families down in one well-timedcoup. If it looks like war, and it smells like war, then it probably is war.
At least that’s how the crime reports will read. Meanwhile, the bratva swoops in, claims the Murray empire,andstill has Emily.
It’s not enough to be on track. We must be at least one step ahead of the game.
“Their eyes are firmly fixed on the prize.” Liam grins. “Which makes my life a whole lot easier.”
I smile. “Can we bring the strike forward by twenty-four hours?”
“Is the Pope Catholic?” I can tell by his semi-glazed expression that Liam is already re-scheduling his timeline.
“It won’t be easy,” Uncle Donal adds, “but it’s doable. Provided the Murrays keep their end of the bargain.”
“They will.”
Terry will be left with no choice. Because while shit is going down, I’m going to rescue my wife.
I end the call and drain my bottle of water. There’s much to be done, including keeping my Pa updated so that he doesn’t get ideas of his own, but for the first time since I arrived in New York, I know that Emily is within touching distance.
I remove Gran’s ring from my pocket and raise it to my lips. “I’m coming for you, mo chroi.”
19
EMILY
I don’t knowhow Olivia noticed before I did, but now that the notion has been floated out there, I can’t escape it.
I’m pregnant. I’m carrying Eoghan Byrne’s baby inside my womb. And nothing will ever be the same again. Suddenly, the life growing inside me is all I can think about. Because even though this wasn’t part of the plan, it wasn’t something I considered happening to me, at least not for a while, it is somehow all that matters.
I don’t even feel any pain from the torn flesh on my ankle and foot.
One of the security guards lifted me out of the tree once the dogs had returned to wherever they’re kept. He carried me back to the house as if I were a small child, and even with the pain searing my leg and igniting flames inside my skull, I felt it: this world-sized ball of unconditional love for the child Eoghan and I created together.
I knew then that I would find a way out of this situation because I’m not doing it for me. I’m doing it for this lifegrowing inside me. And I might have been oblivious to my mafia background growing up, but if there’s one thing they’ve unwittingly taught me, it’s that there’s only one person I can trust.
Me.
Ilya stayed with me while the doctor stitched together the torn skin around my foot. He didn’t speak, but I could see the guilt in his eyes. Or perhaps it was fear. Perhaps he was supposed to keep me alive and unbroken while in his custody.
I didn’t see Olivia until the following day. Her eyes traveled down to the bandage around my ankle when I limped onto the poolside decking, and she didn’t say a word. She was lounging in a black and gold swimsuit, a cocktail in her hand, every inch the young successful businesswoman on a well-deserved vacation.
I didn’t ask if I could sit down. The guard was no longer posted outside my bedroom door. No one was following me around the house. I guess they figured that I wasn’t running anywhere anytime soon, so they could relax security and pretend that I was part of the furniture.
Which suits me just fine.
Because they seem to have confused my injury with stupidity, and I’m not about to set the record straight.
