Page 60 of The Celtic Resolution
“Yeah.” I slide my glass toward her.
“Rough night?”
“No,” I say, picking up the glass. “But it’s about to be.”
“You need anything?”
Our eyes meet.
What if I told her everything? What if I spilled my heart to her and told her that one week ago, my father sat me down in his office and told me he was one-third of a secret organization spearheading the shipping of humans as stock around the world? That a member of the Chinese Triad was the second head and the third remains a mystery? What if I told her that he spoke to me as casually as we are talking now, and told me that the Russians left a gap in the market everyone else was too scared to fill, so he did?
I could tell her that he blamed Rocky and Matteo on why he had to make such a drastic decision because Matteo is old and closed down the family for a few years after Noah nearly started a war to end all wars with the Irish by killing Brenden Gifford, or that he blames Rocky because Rocky is young, reckless and marrying acopof all people. They’re a shameful stain on the family and in his eyes, it’s his duty to stop them falling into obscurity which he will do, willingly. He just deserves some extra money on top of it.
My stomach churns the same way it did when my father told me that the demand was so overwhelming that they had to swipe more drugs than they could afford in order to keep the productdocile. And the weapons were either payment to the Triad for their legwork, or to cover the bodies of the men and women shipped overseas to become slaves or much worse.
I could tell Hazel every detail, right down to the exact number of women currently being held at several Italian facilities waiting to besold. I could tell her that my discovery of the blonde woman in the container got her killed since she wasconsidered a liability, and that the only reason I’ve sat on this information for a week is because my father leaned across the table and looked me dead in the eye while threatening to kill Mary.
Or worse, sell her to the worst dictator he knows.
In an instant, my father was gone and replaced by this shell wearing the same face but with nothing inside him. Only cold cruelty. I thought he was bluffing about Mary, after all he dotes on her like she’s his only child. It turns out it’s just an act and he’s sent her away on holiday but refuses to tell me where.
All part of his plan to keep me in line while claiming he’s welcoming me into the fold and hoping I’ll take over from him one day. He claims to trust me but we both know he doesn’t, not really.
“Bruno?” Hazel taps her red nails against the bar. “What’s up, love?”
If I told her everything, would she get the information to Saoirse or Cormac? Would she be able to do anything before my father killed her?
“Nothing,” I say eventually. “Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
“Ah, I suppose you do,” she replies. “With the Irish twins missing and war on the streets, I imagine you’ve got a lot to worry about. You were close with her, weren’t you?”
The Vodka sours in my mouth as I look up. “What?”
“Saoirse, you were her friend weren’t you? Or am I remembering wrong?”
“No, sorry. What do you mean she’s missing?”
“The twins are.” Hazel sets the bottle down. “Little over a week ago, they both vanished. It’s not public knowledge but I thought you knew given how close you two seemed.”
Saoirse is missing? And Cian?
This can’t be right. “Are you sure?” My words slip out more forcefully than I intend. “How do you know they’re not just away somewhere?”
Hazel’s eyes narrow. “Maybe I’m mistaken,” she replies tightly. “Sorry.”
She closes up immediately, which means she thought the Irish told me Saoirse was missing because we’re friends. Her silence is as much of an answer as an outright confirmation. But Cian too? What would cause them both to vanish?
Fuck. I have too many thoughts and not enough space. The missing twins, my sister shipped off God knows where, my father acting like I’m his next protege, and an entire underground network of human trafficking that I walked right into because I refused to see my father for the monster he really is.
Fucking hell.
Kill me now.
“He with you?” Hazel drags me out of my thoughts once again and points toward the newly arrived man standing at the door. One of my father’s guards.
“Unfortunately,” I mutter as I slide from my stool. “Thanks for the drink, Hazel.”
“Any time. Take care of yourself, Bruno.”
