Chapter 16 – Liam
Iwasn’t feeling particularly friendly to anyone of Italian heritage this morning.
It probably had something to do with the sleepless night.
Or maybe the fact that my wife was every bit the little temptation I suspected her to be.
A virgin—Jaysus! Who would have fucking thought?
I was certain her mystery lover had spent many long hours between those sun-kissed thighs.
He was either the biggest eejit that ever existed or he wasn’t real.
Well, now that she was living in my house, it would be easier to pay close attention to where she went and who she saw. And read her journals.
I walked into the portable office at our biggest construction site after depositing my bride at my house.
Our house. That thought unsettled me more than the smirking six-foot-five Italian sitting across from my desk.
I arched a questioning brow at my secretary.
Betty, perched in the front room of the portable, gave me a shrug.
“What did you expect? Coming into work the day after your wedding,” she tsked.
“You know damn well this project is behind schedule,” I grumped. “Taking yesterday off means we’ll work through the weekend.”
“That’s what ya get for marrying on a Thursday.” Betty rolled her ancient, all-seeing eyes. “Not me. I have a poker match tomorrow night, and there’s mass on Sunday, lad.”
I stalked into the back, slammed the door to my private quarters, and crossed my arms over my chest. “Speak.”
Dominico Grimaldi’s eyes danced. “Well, hello to you too.”
“Give me one good reason why I don’t shoot you for trespassing?” I glowered.
“It would start a turf war,” Dominico said smoothly. “Or, if that’s not good enough for you, killing me would be a loss of some pretty valuable information.”
Scowling, I ripped back my chair and sat hard. The hinges groaned as Betty bustled inside. She set two stainless steel cups on the desk, gave me a pointed look, and then smiled at our guest.
“Let me know if I can get anything else, lads,” she laughed. The noise was corn husks scraping in an autumn field. “I’m headed to smoke me pipe.”
When the door closed, Dominico leaned forward. “A pipe?”
“What do you want?” I demanded.
The princeling grinned. “Felicitations on your sudden nuptials.”
I plucked the coffee. The piping hot liquid scorched my throat. It would be a damn shame to waste good joe by throwing it in the fecker’s face, but the idea was tempting.
“If we’d known you were in the market for an alliance, we could have offered you a better deal,” he drawled, smoothly shifting his hand through the air.
The bastard was fishing. Now that the news was out, his family wouldn’t be the only one asking questions we didn’t want to answer. Such as why an affluent organization such as the McDonagh Clan chose to partner with the teeny Morelli Family.
“Last I heard, you were in Europe.” I kicked an ankle over my knee and leaned back, deciding to do a little fishing of my own. “Welcome back.”
A muscle in that sharp jaw ticked. But his smile never wavered. “Grandfather said it was time I began taking an active role in the business.”
I nodded, humming under my breath. The information made me wonder if there wasn’t a reason for Don Grimaldi to make the change. Was the old man’s health failing? Or was it just another tactic? Manipulation was something that the old heads weren’t above using to bring our generation to heel.
“And as my first official act back, I have the pleasure of bringing you some news.” Dominico flicked an invisible piece of lint off his bespoke suit. “Grandfather was approached with an offer to assassinate you—and your parents.”
Shock slammed into me. I caught myself before jumping to my feet, but I wasn’t careful enough. Hot liquid sloshed over the rim and burnt my thigh. The bite of pain wasn’t enough to stop my mind racing a mile a minute.
“What does your grandfather want in exchange for that information?” I asked the obvious question, while my mind turned over the list of enemies who would make such an offer. It was longer than I would have liked. Crossing out names would make a bloody mess.
At least the fish would be well fed.
“Oh, not a damn thing.” The wee prince laughed.
I didn’t buy it for a second. “Then why warn me?”
Dominico shrugged. Such a smooth, careless gesture. “I don’t want my grandfather to do anything stupid. It’s bad for business.”
And telling me meant that this family could hold the favor over our heads. As much as I hated it, that was a problem for another day.
“Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve got to run.” Dominico rose, plucked his coffee, and drained it in one go. His face twisted in a grimace, and a full-body shudder rolled through him. “Damn! That’s stronger than I expected. I’ll have to tell that doll outside she makes a mean cup.”
“Do that.”
Dominico paused behind his chair, dangling the empty cup from his fingers. He came from an old family. A very powerful organization. They had the kind of money and influence most people couldn’t dream of.
“You know, for hearing about a death threat, you’re very calm.”
I tapped once on my mask. “Been there. Done that.”
“I suppose you have,” Dominico said after a pause. “Watch your back, devil.”
“Likewise,” I clipped out.
Smirking, the princeling sauntered out. From outside the portable, I heard his booming laughter and Betty’s ancient cackle.
I hung my head, breathing hard.
There was never a pause from the violence. Anxiety crept up my spine, spiderwebbing through my veins. In the distance, I heard a blast. It wasn’t real. The memory of the explosion stole the air from my lungs. Ghostly tendrils of fire licked my body, but I was helpless to move.
Paralyzed.
Doc Ryan said one side effect from the attack would be flashbacks. There was no liquor handy to dull their vise-like grip. I relived the night I nearly burned alive.
I managed to unclench my jaw. I forced the tip of my tongue between my teeth—and bit. Blood spread across my tastebuds. The sting of pain shot through my trauma-induced panic, helping to ground me to reality.
The memory of the explosion faded, but only just. It was there, a constant presence, ready to mock me, reduce me to a pile of shivering goo if I let it.
The knob twisted. The hinges whined. And then, the scent of tobacco wafted into the office.
It took a huge effort to lift my head. The damn thing felt like a bowling ball, and my neck muscles didn’t want to cooperate.
Betty slid a careful look over me as she collected the cups. “Ya know, when someone gives ya a heads up and saves your bleeding life, the Christian thing to do is thank them.”
I scowled at her from under my brows. “Eavesdropping is a sin, old woman.”
Betty tapped her gnarled finger against her nose. “Who wants to kill ya now, lad?”
If the wedding was anything to go by, there were plenty of bloodthirsty killers who held no love for me and my parents.
My fingers shook as I reached for the collar of my shirt. I slid my fingers under the buttons, popping the button at my neck. I only meant to loosen it so the tie didn’t choke me.
But my fingers brushed against the thin metal chain.
The tension in my shoulders eased.
The effect was immediate.
I took a steadying breath.
“Well? Who do we have to kill?” Betty insisted.
“I don’t know.” I took a sip of my slightly cooler coffee. The inky liquid was strong enough to put hair on a baby’s chest. “But I’m going to find out.”
“Ya can start your hunt at the pub tonight.” She bustled about, tidying as she went. “I’ll help.”
“I wasn’t going to the fecking pub,” I snapped.
Betty frowned. The wrinkles in her ashen grey face deepened. “Oh? And just what were ya plannin’ to feed your wife for dinner? I know ya haven’t been to the grocer’s in weeks.”
She had a point. I didn’t want Gabriella to go out alone, and the reasons for that were now two-fold.
If what the Grimaldi prince said was true—and I had no reason to doubt him—there was an active threat that extended to my new wife.
The thought of someone trying to hurt her darkened my mood to pitch.
That plus the fact that I didn’t want Gabriella to create a new rendezvous with anyone made the toxic mess inside me boil.
I tugged gently on the chain and considered her words.
“Fine.” I stabbed the power button for my computer monitor with my finger. The force nearly made the screen wobble over. “I’ll be at the Galway Arms around seven. Tell my wife.”
Betty nodded sagely and left, throwing over her shoulder before the door closed, “That’s life in the mob, lad, living with a target on your back.”
I fucking hated that she was right.
This was a mistake.
Instead of eliminating suspects from the list of possible threats, I struggled not to cut the throats of every man in the pub. The Galway Arms was riotous tonight. Every lad here seemed hellbent on flirting with my wife.
My beautiful little wife, who smiled.
For them.
Gabriella demolished her stew, wiping the little crock with a crust of brown bread. Sitting back, she laced her hands over her stomach.
“That was delicious,” she sighed happily, eyes fluttering closed.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Donny chirped, appearing suddenly at our booth. “Can I bring you anything else, missus?”
I gave him a stern glare, silently ordering him to tread carefully.
Gabriella shook her head. Squinting up at him, she grinned. “I’ll be dreaming of that bread.”
A skinny fecker, Donny wilted. “They’re dancin’ over there. Care for a jig?”
How dare he? How fucking dare he!
Did he not understand she was mine? I married her.
Then ask her to dance….
I slammed that tiny voice into dust. I didn’t dance.
You danced at your wedding.
“No,” I barked. “We’re leaving.”
Gabriella looked wistfully at the capering eejits but shook her head again. “I don’t think I can manage more than being rolled out of here. Thanks, though!”
Such a little diplomat.
I clenched my fists under the table.
Donny smiled. “Next time! We’ve got live music every weekend.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Gabriella said with a grin.
Another radiant smile.
My Roman goddess had no idea the power she wielded. It made grown men oblivious to the danger. Case in point, Donny had eyes only for her.
With a nod, the waiter scooted away with the dirty dishes back into the kitchen. He had no idea how much those careless words cost him. Whistling and swaying his hips, he didn’t notice the daggers I speared in his spine.
“Wait here while I settle the tab,” I instructed, pushing to my feet to follow the waiter.
Gabriella turned those vibrant brown eyes to me. Gold flashed in their depths, and the smile on her ruby lips turned flat.
“Okay?” she responded carefully.
She sensed it.
But I was already moving. Our booth, which gave me an unobstructed view of the entire pub, was the closest to the double swinging doors.
I smacked them both open, following the gaunt fool.
Just as Donny dropped the dishes in the pit, I grabbed the back of his shirt, hauled him off his feet, and drug him into the wash area.
The decrepit creature with gloved, soapy hands scuttled away, sensing danger with the few brain cells left undamaged from a stray bullet years ago.
“Jaysus, man, what are you doing?” Donny shouted.
I shoved him over the deep sink of water, pressed his body against the stainless steel, and with a wordless growl, shoved his head under.
Donny thrashed and struggled, but I didn’t let him up for air until I counted to fifty in my head.
When his movements lost their power, I tugged him up by the hair, snarling in his ear.
“Never ask my wife to dance.”
Donny gulped for air, but before the oxygen hit his blood stream, I forced his head back under water.
He fought less this time.
When I hauled him up, I added, “Make sure the others know.”
With a final, forceful shove, I took a healthy step back. The leather glove on my right hand was sopping. I flexed it. Suds and water streamed to the rubber mat on the floor.
I didn’t dare take the fucking thing off until I was home. By then, the harsh dish soap and moisture would make the skin flare red.
I don’t care.
It was worth it.
Before I pushed through the doors, I glanced at the dishwasher. “Have a good night, William.”
The smile on the soldier’s face helped to calm the brutal rage in my chest.
I marched back into the pub. Gabriella’s attention was fixed on the lively mix of people. Her eyes didn’t look as sad as they always did.
She’ll never smile for a monster like me.
Snatching her wrist, I tugged her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
“Liam! You scared me,” she gasped. “Wait! What were you doing? Why are you all wet?”
I didn’t answer.
Didn’t speak to her the entire fifteen-minute drive back to my two-story craftsman.
Whiskey called my name, and I nearly bolted from the Jaguar. I barely had the presence of mind to pull my weapon and sweep the kitchen, dining room, and front parlor as I entered. Going to the bar cart, I poured a healthy dose of amber.
A sound at the door made me wince.
Gabriella watched me from the encased archway. Her eyes were molten, the same as the liquid fire shimmering in my glass. “Is this how it’s always going to be?”
Me hating every smile on your bonny face? “Probably.”
Gabriella swallowed hard. She turned on her heel and dashed upstairs. I heard the floorboards creak, realizing that she was in one of the front bedrooms. One that wasn’t mine.
Slamming back the rest of my drink, I finished checking the house for threats.
The new security measures would be installed tomorrow, and there was a rotation of guards ready to patrol the fenced property.
But the men on guard duty were going to have strict orders.
Very strict. I didn’t trust any of them to stay inside.
Not after seeing the effect the beautiful creature had on them.