36. Cian
Cian
A fter going through the Monahan brothers’ dossiers, several months ago, I decided to take action.
Neither my people nor the Italians needed to get tangled up with these newcomers.
I sent a text message to the number my cousin Niall acquired for me, supposedly it was Cormac Monahan’s personal contact.
But my message went unanswered for months.
All through the house’s renovation, and the drama with Ravenna’s cousin, Sophia being taken by De Luca. Which ended up being fine, until it wasn’t. They married earlier this summer, but now they’re going through a sort of falling out. I try not to get involved unless Ravenna insists.
Business has been going well, we even plugged that money leak in that Harlem gambling den.
But hearing back from Cormac Monahan brightens my day. It means I can finally move forward on this front.
Cormac Monahan:
We’ll meet. O’Malley’s bar. Wednesday. Six PM.
A relieved sigh pushes past my lips. Meeting with these men is the first step toward negotiating peace between us. Though they’ve been quiet recently, until we have a deal, I’m counting my blessings.
Too many times in the history of this area have Irish gangs ended up in feuds with each other. Those wars only end once every member of a gang has been wiped from this earth. We’re better off finding a way to work with the Monahans instead of against them.
I’ve waited a good long while for this meeting. Immediately, I send a confirmation text to Cormac and give Wolfe an update with instructions. We have one chance to make a good impression. We can’t fuck this up.
A knock comes at my door, drawing my attention. It opens, and Ravenna peeks inside before I have a chance to respond.
“Are you terribly busy?” she asks.
I smile at my wife. “I’m never too busy for you.”
“I know, but I always like to ask.” She returns my grin, and steps inside. “I saw the doctor earlier today.”
I practically fly out of my chair in my haste to go to her. My hands skim her body, seeking the slightest injury or reason she’d have to go to the doctor—and not inform me about it first.
“What’s wrong?” My tone comes out harsher than I meant.
She grips my forearms to still my wandering hands. “Nothing’s wrong. Actually, I’m as healthy as can be.”
“Then why visit the doctor?”
“Because, given our ages and general health, I should be pregnant by now and I’m not. So I finally decided to see if I had any fertility issues.” Her gaze catches mine. “I don’t. There’s absolutely no issue with my reproductive organs.”
I hold her around the waist. “That’s good.”
“It is. It just means… I’m not the reason we haven’t started a family yet.”
Seeing her point, I frown.
“Well that’s—” I clear my throat. “I’ll schedule an appointment to get checked out.”
I had considered that the problem might be me, though I didn’t want to think about it. Now that I have to, the answer is pretty obvious. The things my ex did to me… She very well could have left me damaged in a permanent way.
I might not be able to give my wife a child.
That realization punches me in the gut. I tighten my grip on her to steady myself as the room spins.
“ Cian , are you all right?” Ravenna’s worried face floats before my eyes. “Cian?”
I blink several times to clear my head. Gradually, the world rights itself.
Grunting, I say, “Yeah. I’m okay.”
Releasing her, I drop into a nearby chair, my head in my hands. What if I can’t give us a family? What if I’m damaged beyond repair? Will Ravenna still love me when it will only ever be the two of us together, no children and no grandchildren?
“Cian, talk to me. What’s going on? I didn’t mean to make this awkward. Or to hurt you in any way.” She smooths back my hair.
I look up at her. “You’re not. I’m fine. We’ll figure this all out.”
Worry fills her blue-grey eyes. “If you’re sure you’re okay.”
“I am.” Taking a deep breath, I sit upright. “How’s your cousin doing?” I’ll talk about anything for a change of subject, even Ravenna’s dramatic extended family.
Roman and Sophia seemed happy when we attended their nuptials. When they came back from their honeymoon all hell broke loose. Since then, Sophia’s been living at her parents’ house and Ravenna spends a lot of her time visiting.
Apparently, Roman did something unforgivable, but I don’t have the mental capacity to get too involved with all of that when I’m trying to keep my own empire alive and thriving.
What I do know is that the peace between the Italians and the Russians is precarious at best. But that all went up in smoke as soon as the engagement between Sophia and Nikolai ended.
Are all families such a handful? Do they always have this much drama going on?
Will I ever get to have my own children and find out?
For a moment, I wonder about my cousins. The Bane family, like all good Irish Catholics, has seven children—my cousins. All adults now. But I can only imagine the kind of insanity that goes on in that household.
“Sophia’s heartbroken. I’m not sure she’ll ever be okay again.” Ravenna settles on my lap. “I have half a mind to kill Roman De Luca. Though word is no one’s seen him. He’s become a complete recluse. If I ever see him again, I’ll stab his eyes out.”
I chuckle. “Remind me to never get on your bad side. You’re a vicious woman, broc meala .”
“You love me for it. Admit it.” She loops her arms around my neck.
“I admit it. I love you.” I kiss her forehead.
But will love be enough to keep us together if I can’t give her children?
F rom the outside, O’Malley’s looks like a dive bar in a rough part of town. Inside it’s not much better. The place reeks of cheap booze and body odor. Even the thick cigar smoke doesn’t manage to mask the less pleasant scents.
As soon as I enter, all eyes turn on me and the two men I brought along. I’m used to stranger’s stares at this point, as my frame not only fills the doorway but I have to duck to enter. Then, of course, the jagged scars across my face demand attention.
Several people quickly glance away, while others take their time sizing me up. I hate how often some of the larger guys see me as a challenge they’re compelled to take on. They see me and immediately think it’s an opportunity to prove themselves. To who, I’m not sure. Themselves, maybe?
It never ends well for them. Their fragile egos ultimately take as much of a beating as their flesh.
Today, one such massive guy approaches me, looking me up and down, his gaze barely touches on the two guys behind me. My fingers curl into fists, ready for what’s coming next.
“Are you Cian O’Rourke?” he asks, openly studying my scars.
Narrowing my eyes, I nod.
“Come with me.” He turns and leads us further into the bar.
Not what I expected to happen. But I’m far from out of danger’s reach, so I keep my guard up as I follow him into a private back room.
He stops my two bodyguards from entering. “They stay out here.”
I consider the risks. I’ll be vulnerable in there without backup. Ultimately, I’m on Monahan turf and what they want goes, so I tell my men to stay put. They know to take this guy out and charge into that room if anything unsavory happens.
I enter alone. Chairs surround several round tables, and I realize it’s a gambling joint. Currently not in use.
Three Irishmen sit at a single table. When I approach, they stand.
The man in the middle immediately catches my attention. His height and form rival my own, but it’s the multitude of white scars across his neck that draw my eyes. Someone tried to decapitate him and almost succeeded. Instead leaving his flesh ruined for all to see.
A sense of intimate understanding grips my chest.
I meet his green gaze, striking beneath his thick black hair. A tailored, dark suit gives him an even more formidable energy. He’s a bit older than me, but I wouldn’t want to meet him alone in a dark alley.
He’s flanked by two men who hold a close resemblance to him.
I’m guessing all three are the Monahan brothers.
Which means the most powerful men of their gang are right here in this room.
I’d never take that risk. Wolfe and I rarely appear in the same place at the same time, especially under potentially dangerous circumstances.
Leadership must be preserved or my men will fight among themselves until a new one rises to take charge.
While the man in the middle is my height, the other two aren’t much shorter. One stares at me with a scowl. He has reddish-blond hair, and dresses more casually in a black button down shirt with dark slacks.
The third man smirks at me. Easy going. Though I see the glint of death in his blue-green stare. He’s dressed in a Henley with dark jeans and a blazer.
“I’m Cian O’Rourke.”
“The one they call The Beast?” asks the sour-faced one.
I nod my confirmation.
He looks me up and down before he introduces himself and his brothers. “I’m Liam Monahan. This is Killian,” he gestures to the smiling one, “and that’s Cormac.”
I bob my head. “Pleasure to meet you. You seem to be settling well into New York City.”
They sit, motioning for me to do the same. We’re left alone in this room, me facing them. Could they take me out right now if they wanted? Probably. Though that’s not why we agreed to meet. No guns drawn, let’s hope it stays that way.
Liam, the perpetually grouchy Monahan by the looks of him, speaks again, “We came to an agreement with the Flannagans, as they’re family, and our only interest is in taking over their small empire.”
For now. Until they get greedy enough to fight for more turf, more money, more power.
“As long as you don’t mess with us, we’ll stay out of your way,” he states.
I grunt. “Apparently there’s some confusion over our property lines. If you recall our skirmish last year?”
“That was our mistake,” Liam admits. He unfolds a large piece of paper on the table. “This is the map from Old Mister Flannagan. It seems to need updating.”
I look it over, noting where the Flannagans handed over a chunk of land to the Italians a few years ago in exchange for some favor or another. That turf was turned over to us when I married Ravenna.
Liam hands me a marker. “Draw it in for us.”
I catch his dark brown gaze, sensing a trap. I could easily create any new border that I want. They’d never know the difference if I took five blocks from them or twenty.
Glancing at Cormac, their leader, though he hasn’t uttered a word, I read the challenge in his eyes.
“Go on,” says the youngest Monahan, Killian. His friendly grin seems superficial at best, predatory at worst.
That’s when I realize this is, in fact, a test. The map before me is an old one, but they have a newer version somewhere. They’ll know if I’m honest or not. But they want me to think they’re ignorant.
Tricky Irish. Though I’m mildly amused that they think they can trick one of their own people.
I uncap the marker and draw the new boundary line exactly where it should be as three pairs of watchful eyes bore into me.
Done, I toss the marker on the map.
Cormac studies my handiwork, then nods.
“We thank you for this,” Liam says, seeming to answer for Cormac. I’m beginning to wonder if the man is mute. Those old wounds on his neck could have caused permanent damage to his vocal chords.
Either way, I don’t want my men getting mixed up with the Monahans. In a relatively short time, they’ve proven themselves not only dangerous, but cunning. A deadly combination. Certainly a hornets nest I don’t want to kick.
“We’re in agreement of the turf lines, then?” I need to make sure, to hear them say it.
Again, Liam answers. “We are.”
“Good. My men and I have partnered with the Italians, they protect?—”
Liam cuts me off. “We know all about the war between your people and the Italians. You married a woman from the Pontrelli family to bring peace. That’s quite the sacrifice, especially to take on that burden yourself.
Very honorable, too. Because of that, we believe you don’t want another war with anyone. ”
I dip my chin. “That’s correct.”
“Then we don’t have to worry about you coming after our slice of the city?” He warily eyes me.
“I don’t want it. You have my word.” Peace is more appealing to me than more… of anything. Though telling them that would make me appear weak, so I keep that thought to myself.
Liam glances at Cormac and they have some kind of silent conversation. All the while, Killian stares at me, unrelenting. Honestly, the guy’s starting to annoy me. But I don’t let my aggravation show. I won’t let them get under my skin.
Cormac rises, offering me his hand. I stand up, and shake it.
“We’ll be in contact if anything else arises.” Liam also shakes my hand.
Killian flashes me another of his creepy smiles as he leans back in his chair.
With that, I’m shown out of the room. A short meeting, but I guess we all got our points across.
Though I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I cross paths with a Monahan.