Page 168 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

Dismounting the hog, I leave the helmet on the seat, then make my way to the front door. The building is architecturally magnificent. A combination of brick and limestone, with wrought metal balconies in black and gold set over five stories.

I don’t have to ring the bell. The door is immediately thrown open by Luciano himself.

“Come in, Jaine, please.” Fake niceties. He has a gleam in his eye because the target he’s been after all this time has willingly come to him.

I step inside. As I thought, the property is vulgar, with beige marble flooring and even more wrought iron. As much as the O’Connell family residence is ostentatious, it at least has a modicum of taste. The internal décor in this place is as vile as the owner himself.

We stare at each other.

He’s handsome enough if you like the Italian mafia look, but his teeth are as fake as his pleasant personality. By all accounts, Luciano’s favorite topic of conversation is himself.

Now that we’re inside, he drops the pretend smile. “Would you mind if I search you, Jaine?”

“Not at all.” I lift my arms as he runs his hands slowly over me. The only thing he could potentially find is the download device, but given he’s undertaking the exercise to cop a feel more than anything else, it’s doubtful he’ll search for something so small. He’ll be more interested in phones and weapons. I have neither.

I stand as he slowly runs his hands over my ass. I could snap his arm or neck, but that won’t do me any good. I’m handing myself over as a solution to an ongoing problem. I’m not here to make the situation worse for those I’ll leave behind.

“Thank you. Please come with me.”

I follow him downstairs, leaving via what looks like an old servant’s entrance. I’m guessing the people who exit this way won’t be seen again. The cold air nips at my skin. For once, I relish it. Pretty soon, I won’t feel anything.

We stop at an old wooden door. It’s already unlocked. He pushes it, and it opens with a reluctant creak. He then flicks a switch. Lights flicker on.

As I suspected, it’s a similar environment to what lies underneath Play. It will be soundproofed, of course, as, unlike that concrete tomb, it’s not below ground level. I’m sure Luciano wouldn’t want to disturb his wealthy neighbors when he has the urge to murder someone in cold blood like he’s about to do me.

I don’t resist when he binds my hands behind my back. Neither do I put up any resistance when he pushes me down on the plastic chair that’s set out in the middle of the room. Once more, we stare at each other.

“Why did you come here, Jaine?”

“I want answers. Then you can do with me what you will. I am your main target, after all.”

I know he’ll give me answers because, having known Luc for as long as I have, I know he likes to brag.

“You murdered my husband.”

“You disrespected my sister.”

I feel sick as he gives me the confirmation we already suspected.

“Why?” I choke it out.

“Call it retaliation. My sister was faced with having to marry a man who was in love with another woman. A man who physically rejected her over and over again,” he spits.

“That wasn’t my fault.”

He backhands me across the face. All I can taste is blood mixed with the taste of the acidic bile I had to swallow back earlier.

“You gloated, Jaine. Do not deny that.”

“It was three years ago.”

“Three years. Three days. What does it matter when you are entered into a hopeless marriage? Padraig disrespected her. He refused to accept her into his bed because he was obsessed with you.”

“I did nothing to encourage that.”

“Perhaps not, but you then proceeded to birth him a son, whereas my sister had to return from Sicily to face gossips suggesting that she was either barren or that there were already issues with her new marriage.”

What can I say? His mind is made up. To the Ruoccos, I’m the cause of Sophia and Irish’s marriage failing, even though, according to Dylan, it was more to do with her personality than anything else.

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