Page 14 of Watch Me, Daddy

“Aidan,” I said.

“You’ve got trouble heading your way. We’ve spotted a Russian segment only a few blocks away. They slipped under our radar, feeding soldiers into an abandoned warehouse all day, one by one on foot. I’m sorry we didn’t see it sooner, boss,” Liam explained.

“We’ll deal with the particulars later. How many?”

“Two dozen,” Liam answered.

“How many guarding the safehouse?” I asked quickly.

“Ten men, sir.”

“Send more. We need to wipe out all of them to send a message. We’ll deal with this and move to a new safehouse in the morning,” I commanded.

“On it, boss,” Liam replied, and I hung up my phone.

Immediately, I sprang into action. With a firm resolve, I pushed the button underneath my desk, and my bookshelf popped open to reveal a hidden compartment full of guns, knives, ammo, and all manner of other kinds of weapons.

The cool steel glinted in the dim light. Quickly, I stood up and strode over to the guns, choosing a 9mm handgun complete with a silencer attached to the barrel. I always kept a knife on my belt, so I didn’t grab another. I rushed downstairs, stopping for a moment to lock Irina in her bedroom once again before I dashed down to the main floor and out the front door. I needed to face this head on to send a message.

I was not a man to be messed with.

The Murphy name meant something in this city. My siblings and I were part of an influential and renowned criminal organization in the heart of Boston, particularly in Southie. Gambling dens, restaurants, and an array of diverse establishments all filled our portfolio, reaping generous rewards for us and our business associates. Our presence was most deeply intertwined with horse racing and the bustling trade at Boston harbor, but we had our hands in everything that went on in the city. We had allies in the political sphere, as well as on the police force. Our reach went far and wide, enabling us to discreetly procure and transport anything that we wanted, weapons, booze, the works.

In the morning, I would move Irina to another location since this safe house was compromised, but I would worry about that later. It would be enough to wipe out the dozen Russian soldiers coming for us. I’d leave one just long enough for questioning, but then he would die, too.

It had to be that way. I would show no mercy when it came to Irina, especially when it put her safety at risk.

My men were already positioned strategically along the street. I saw the telltale glint of several sniper rifles along the rooftops, and I smiled.

I walked out into the street, noting that even though it was the middle of the day, the surrounding area was deadly quiet. It was unnerving, but in retrospect, it was probably for the best.

We’d have to pay off a lot more people if there were witnesses to what came next.

I stood in the middle of the road, waiting as a group of men turned the corner and moved towards me. They stopped at least ten feet away from me, their expressions grim.

Dressed in cheap dark suits that hugged their well-built frames, they exuded an aura of ruthless arrogance. Their hair was neatly groomed, some with slicked-back styles while others sported cropped cuts that accentuated the ruggedness of their appearances. Dark, penetrating eyes surveyed their surroundings with ruthless vigilance. A few of them bore discreet tattoos peeking out from their shirt cuffs or collars. As they stood in a disciplined formation, their collective presence was a display of controlled power.

The tension in the air crackled like electricity, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. This was a calculated risk, facing them wearing nothing more than my white button up shirt and my slacks, but I needed to demonstrate that I was not a man to be underestimated and that I wasn’t afraid of them. A surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins. I was a force to be reckoned with, and they were going to realize the full extent of that very soon.

“Aidan Murphy,” one of them murmured, stepping forward in front of the rest.

I noticed subtle yet distinct signs of deference in the rest of the men that spoke volumes about the hierarchy within their ranks. Their postures straightened, backs rigidly aligned, as they formed a tighter formation behind the man that stepped forward. A couple of them instinctively took half-steps back, ensuring a respectful distance between them and their superior. My gaze zeroed in on him, and I knew instinctively that the man who spoke was their leader.

“To whom do I have the honor of speaking?” I asked, cocking my head to the side as I appraised him.

He was wearing a nicer suit than the others, although not as nice as the ones I owned.

“My name is Pavel Sokolov. I serve Anton Kozlov,” he replied, pausing for a moment. “It is awfully brave, coming out to face me alone,” he mused, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I smiled and simply raised a hand into the air.

In an instant, bullets sprayed down onto the pavement a foot away from the man’s feet. He jumped backwards, and I snorted in amusement.

“I am not alone,” I answered.

The ruthless scowl that painted his face was comical as he came to terms with the fact that he was far more out of his depth than he’d realized.

I flicked my wrist, and another volley of bullets spread across the pavement, only this time, they didn’t miss. One by one, the twenty-three soldiers that accompanied Yuri dropped to the ground.

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