Page 6 of Hateful Union

“Sorbonne Université in France,” I tell him and brace for impact. I had it planned. Gabby and I were going to go live in France, to get away from the shit we have to deal with here. It would mean leaving our families behind, but we could deal with that, what we’re dreading is leaving Mayer behind. The three of us have been best friends since we were kids, we’re like the Three Musketeers.

“Why the hell would you want to go there?” His brows furrow as he stares at me perplexed. “Ray, you don’t even know how to speak French.”

I gape at him. Is he for real?

It’s Mum that corrects him. “Actually, she does. Not only does our daughter know how to speak French—fluently, I might add. She can also speak Spanish, German, and Italian. Not to mention English. Now, what the hell is going on?” The bite to her tone has every single one of us standing taller. It’s never, ever good to piss off your mum.

I decide that it’s better for me to talk first, my brothers are great at twisting shit. “I got my rejection letter from the college and Bentley here is trying to get Dad off his case for being arrested by making it out that I’m packing up and leaving.”

Bentley sucks in a sharp breath. Ha, two can play at this game and I’m a hell of a lot better than he is at it. I had to perfect it from a very young age. Having five older brothers—all of whom are overprotective, I learned to be sneaky and underhanded, as well as play the innocent victim.

“You were arrested?” Mum asks harshly. Her nostrils flaring as she crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing in on the youngest of the brothers. “Why?”

Bentley runs his hand through his hair. “They have nothing on me,” he says as though that’s an explanation.

“Not what I asked,” Mum snaps. “Harry, start talking!”

Dad gives Mum a look, something passes silently between them. The love that they have is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed from anyone else. I want that love too. I want to find a man that’ll love me the way my father loves my mother. “Antonella…” he says and it’s that tone that Mum and I hate, the one where he’s going to reprimand us.

I know that my father is no saint. I don’t know the full ins and outs of what he does, but I’ve heard the horrific stories. I don’t want to find out if they’re true or not. To me, he’s not the mobster, he’s not the animal that he’s portrayed, to me, he’s my father. The man that loves me without a shadow of a doubt. The man who has protected me my entire life and it may be selfish and naïve, but that’s the way that I want it to stay. In this house, Dad is just that. A dad, a husband, a man.

“Right,” Mum says, clapping her hands. “I’m going to start getting dinner ready. I want no more talk of Raylee moving, but if she’s accepted into college, she’ll be going.” Her stern tone brooks no arguments. “Bentley, you need to stay out of trouble. I do not need the stress of you being in prison.”

He nods, looking slightly annoyed, “I’ll try.”

Dad grins, “That’s all we can ask. Now, instead of your mum slaving away over a hot stove, we’re going out for dinner. I’m calling Ramos’ to get a table. Get dressed, all of you.” He waves his hand to dismiss us and turns to Mum, pulling her into his arms.

The two of them start kissing before any of us leave the room. God, those two act like teenagers most of the time.

Dinners with the entire family tends to be rowdy and annoying, but also, I love them. As much as I despise how overprotective the males in my family are. I adore each and every one of them, just as they do me. We’re a close knit family and we protect one another.

Malcolm Gallagher has messed with the wrong family. There’s nothing my dad won’t do to ensure our safety and future.

3

Malcolm

It’s been two weeks since I dismantled the Silvers’ main businesses and they haven’t retaliated, yet. I’m not stupid, I know that they’re concocting a plan to try to bring me down. But that’s not going to happen. I would have left them alone had they conducted their business correctly, but they don’t and I won’t stand by and watch as women are forced to service men for the mere fun of it. Fuck no. I wasn’t brought up like that and I won’t tolerate it either.

“Boss…” Christian says as he steps into my office. His expression is stony and his jaw tight.

I’m up on my feet before he continues his sentence. The one thing I respect Christian for above all else, is his ability to be closed off, it takes a hell of a lot for the man to show his rage and for him to be doing that now, it tells me that something’s happened.

“What’s happened?” I demand, moving towards the door.

“The shipment we had going out today has disappeared.”

I don’t stop, my feet moving faster than before. “How the fuck does a fucking truck just vanish?”

I already know who’s behind this shit and they’re going to regret it.

“It moved towards Valencia and then it was gone. It hasn’t been picked up on any CCTV since. In any fucking direction,” Christian snarls. “Which means, those fuckers knew the route and have either turned the delivery driver or have overpowered him.”

I nod, having already come to that conclusion. “Find that fucking truck,” I snap, pissed that this is even happening. “What about the other deliveries?”

He whips out his phone and makes a few calls, once he’s finished, he’s smirking, which has my anger slowly receding.

“The one heading to your father is already in the UK, heading towards Holyhead. The one going to your brother is almost to the Channel Tunnel.”

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