Page 22 of Sweet Revenge
Good. “I’ll help you clean up.”
ChapterTwelve
After trying and failing to talk Evie into staying at Glenmore House or even his penthouse, he’d helped her clean up the bathroom mirror and seen her safely to another hotel. She didn’t need to know it was one he owned, just like Brogan didn’t need to know why he wanted 24/7 access to the surveillance footage on his tablet.
Declan would prefer she was safely under his roof, but either way, he’d make sure anyone who threatened her again would not escape his notice. Or his wrath. Whether she liked it or not, she was his responsibility until they found out who did this.
Which is why he’d insisted on going with her to New York to pick up some supplies until she relented. He didn’t care if she hated him as long as she was alive to do it.
He’d briefed his brothers on the update last night. Brogan reported that the message on Nessa’s mirror matched Evie’s exactly, down to the use of red lipstick. The handwriting looked similar, but it was hard to tell, considering the medium.
This morning’s meeting was hardly going to quiet the rumors that had been swirling through the syndicate. Now Declan wanted to know what truth there might be to them. Other than Evie’s broken window, there was no other visible forced entry into the O’Brian house, but he wanted to send one of his people who worked as a forensics tech for the city to look the place over.
For now, he’d debrief his men, gauge their reaction, and see if they had any information on beef O’Brian might have had with someone. They’d want blood, and he was obliged to give it to them.
He pulled into the parking lot of Reign, his nightclub, parking in his designated space next to the employee entrance, and let himself in. At night the club pulsed under neon lights and pumping music. Metal and black marble gave it an edgy feel, and liquor bottles lined shelves backed by glass. During the day it looked cavernous, empty, but at night it came alive.
He nodded to the cleaning crew that came in each morning to clean up anything the night shift missed before buzzing himself into the security door that led down to the basement. The club itself, already big with its sprawling layout and VIP balconies, sat on top of a concrete basement that had been converted into a series of large rooms.
This is where he preferred to do the bulk of syndicate business. It was far more secure than his suite of offices above the restaurant, and he liked to keep the two as separate as possible. Up there, he was Declan Callahan, successful businessman and billionaire. Down here, he was king.
Motion sensors caught his movement and filled the basement with light as he made his way to the biggest room at the back that was most often used for a meeting space. He’d had Brogan rig it with tech that killed cell signals and listening devices so their private conversations stayed private.
He stepped inside and flipped on the light. A large cherry wood table sat in the center, surrounded by chairs. It looked out of place among the plain drywall and concrete floors, but it served its purpose. Optics didn’t matter down here, only orders.
“You’re earlier than I expected.”
Declan turned from his inspection of the room to face his uncle, his father’s half-brother. Sean had struggled with Declan’s leadership style after Patrick died, but he’d eventually come around. Declan may have been raised to take over the syndicate, but Sean had lived it longer, and the men respected him.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Aidan told me what happened with the notes.”
Declan kept his face neutral. “Did he?”
“What do you make of it?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Declan replied honestly. “But I don’t like it.”
Before Sean could reply, Finn strode in, and Brogan wasn’t far behind.
“Where’s Aidan?”
“He was still asleep when I left the house. Stayed up late with some chick who stumbled out at 3 a.m.,” Brogan said. “I told him to get his ass moving.”
“Just when you think he’s plowed his way through all the girls in Philly, he finds one more,” Sean muttered.
“We’ll get started without him if we have to,” Declan said.
“We’re not really thinking it was one of our guys, are we?” Finn wondered.
“No, but somebody’s got to know something, and if they do, I expect them to tell me. We’ve got two people dead who didn’t need to be. I won’t have two more.”
Declan checked his watch. “Brogan, they should be arriving by now. Go let them in. And,” he added when Brogan started out, “tell Aidan if he’s not here in five minutes he’ll be stuck doing whatever scut work I feel like dishing out for as long as I feel like dishing it.”
Brogan snickered as he left to open the basement door and threaten Aidan with his fate.
They filed in, the heads of the twelve families that made up the Callahan syndicate. Well, eleven families now, since Evie had no brothers, no surviving uncles. They were a mix of old and young. The older ones acknowledged Declan first and then Sean, while the younger acknowledged Declan and then Finn in turn.
