Page 14 of Lovely Venom
“Dirty Irish mobsters of the Lower East Side murdered your father. With his death, you, Raina Riatt, are the rightful heir. He had no other children. There is no one else. Just you.”
Disbelief clouds my thoughts before some deeper fantasy takes root in my pounding head. I grip the edge of the photo with white knuckles. He’d been in Mom’s apartment while she was in the hospital to find that photo.
“Bullshit. My mother was a tailor’s daughter inMontenegro. A guy at the beach got her pregnant. A nobody and—”
“Your mother lied to you,” he brusquely interrupts. “We don’t want to hurt you. We want you to take your place among us. Be appreciated for who you are. Not reprimanded in this hovel.”
“I’m good.” I shove the photo back at him. “I’ll grovel to my boss to keep my job.”
“Akyre’sdaughter doesn’t grovel to anyone.” Valdrin grins mockingly, getting to his feet. “To slimy bureaucrats who don’t appreciate you, no less. This fight with the Irish will make or break the brotherhood. Your legacy.”
Valdrin takes out a sleek black business card with gold embossing from his pocket and places it on the table in front of me. Breaking my stare from him, I glance down to see that there’s just a telephone number. Nothing else.
“Call that number when you’re ready to hear the rest. It’s my direct line. I answer it 24/7. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news.” He waves around the room. “This life is over. DEA lawyers are drawing up your termination papers. They’ve washed their hands of you. But with us, your life is on the cusp of a great beginning. Once you accept who you really are.”
The truth.
He saunters toward the gray steel door, pausing before exiting. “And Raina, the next man from my brotherhood that you see will drag you to thekyrein chains.”
With the hat back on his head, Valdrin Sokolov breezes out, leaving me bereft of air and rational thought.
The door softly clicks shut. But it’s a gong that knocks out my eardrums.
“Wake up!” I dig stubby nails into my injured arm. “This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. None of it.”
I stare down at Valdrin’s card and next to it, mymother’s face haunting me from that photograph.
Mom, why?
I feel so alone, even more since she died last year. Cancer stole her, and Valdrin just fucking stole my identity. Everything I believed about myself has been a lie.
I stand up when I realize no one else is coming into this room.
Valdrin, with his Albanian Brotherhood connections, got into this secure location and managed to make everyone disappear.
They’ve washed their hands of you.
Pissed off, I grab the metal chair with one hand and break the two-way smoky glass. The room on the other side is empty.
Once again, I’m alone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Connor
Sitting in a pub I know and trust, I toss back a shot of Midleton and chase it with a pint of ice-cold Guinness.
Rhys returns from making a call and using the bean jacks. Joining me with Blade and Jett perched on a few stools to my right, my cousin signals for a Jameson 18.
“How’s your neighbor?” I ask to make him talk and not toss me any more questions about why I’m holding on by a thread about what just happened.
“The nosy lass keeps breaking into my flat.” He tosses back the shot.
“Did she burn your mail again?” I snort, sipping my beer.
Rhys scoffs, signaling for another shot. “Fucking Trace and his exaggerations. Shestealsmy mail.”
I face him. “Sounds like she has a crush on you.”
