Chapter 25
MYSTERY GIRL
KOEN
Now
Something’s burning.
The overwhelming scent of charred… something hits me just as soon as the elevator doors open up into the loft.
“You’re clearly doing it wrong.”
“Reagan, I swear to god, if you say one more word—”
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask, stepping into the kitchen to what can only be described as utter chaos.
Liam’s at the range, the pan he’s holding is billowing out black smoke from under the lid he’s holding pressed down tight.
Meanwhile, Alex is in the middle of dumping yet another pan, this one still on fire, into the sink, scrambling for the sprayer to put out the flames.
And in the middle of it all is Reagan, my menace of a little sister, sitting on the countertop, arms folded, watching the two of them with a frown on her face.
I scan the rest of the kitchen, finding Aidan brooding at the table, ignoring the chaos and staring out the window at the courtyard garden.
Reagan notices me first. “Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in.” Her eyes sparkle and the look I give her holds a warning.
Liam and Alex’s heads both pop up. There’s so much smoke, I’m surprised the smoke detector hasn’t—
The alarm wails. Liam shoves his still smoking pan into the oven, shutting the door and looking irritatingly pleased with himself. I run a tired hand over my face and stalk over to the coffee maker.
It’s empty.
Of course it’s empty.
“Your job,” Reagan chirps from her perch on the counter. “You missed breakfast. We thought you were dead.”
“No we didn’t,” Alex chimes in, finally winning the battle over what I think was supposed to be pancakes. “You can’t make jokes like that in a mafia household,” he scolds, shooting Reagan a look.
Reagan just grins, swinging her feet.
I’m too tired for this.
I set about making coffee, my head pounding from lack of sleep.
Liam manages to turn the alarm off, and then the questions begin.
“So where were you?” My sister hops down off the counter, grabbing a mug and swapping the coffee pot out for it just as it starts to brew.
“I was out.” My glare is sharp enough to cut throats, but she ignores me.
“Out with a girl?” She smirks over her shoulder. “Mystery girl perhaps?”
Not with a girl.
“No.”
Reagan takes the mug, now full of fresh coffee, and I have to shove the pot back into place to prevent the rest of the brewing coffee from spilling all over the counter.
“Jesus Christ, you guys wouldn’t last two seconds on your own.”
“I’ll have you know, I would do just fine.” Reagan’s playful tone sharpens slightly as she pours damn near the entire sugar bowl into her cup.
Liam and Alex abandon their smoldering pans and join Aidan at the table. I pull a clean skillet out of the cabinet, and head to the refrigerator for some eggs.
“Speaking of being on our own…” Reagan starts, leaning a little too casually on the island behind me.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!” she whines with a pout.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, my headache worsening by the minute. “I already know what you’re going to ask—and the answer is no. And I’m not in the mood to argue about it.”
“I just want to go out with Effie tomorrow night.”
“Well, in that case—no. But make it a double.” Anything involving our cousin is bad news.
“You’re being an ass.” I can feel Reagan’s glare through the back of my head while I take a whisk to the eggs. She tries again. “I just want to go out for one night!”
“You know we’re on the brink of war with both the Italians and the Russians right now.
Someone killed our father, on the street, in broad daylight.
” She winces. And after what the Russians did to Alex a couple of weeks ago?
I’m willing to bet it’s still open season on O’Rourkes, seeing as Liam was just shot at last week. ”
Her eyes widen as she looks quickly to her brother, and I almost feel bad.
“How am I supposed to know? You never tell me anything! You expect me to sit here all day with nothing to do. I had to drop out of college because it wasn’t safe—”
“Only temporarily,” I growl in my defense. “Once we get the Russians who killed Dad—”
“It’ll just be another threat, and another and another, until I die from inactivity and boredom!”
“You’re being dramatic.” I turn to face her, eyeing my brothers, who are noticeably quiet as we have this argument yet again.
“I’m not a child anymore, Koen. I’m twenty-one. It’s my life. At some point, I have to be the one responsible for it, not you.”
“You have no idea what’s out there—”
“And whose fault is that?” She sets her cup down, crossing her arms, and glares at me. “I want to go out with Effie tomorrow night.”
“No.” I don’t even have to think about it.
The city is volatile right now, not to mention the traffickers snatching girls off the street left and right.
And not all the Irish clans in the city have bent the knee.
My reign as the Irish King is still new, and since we don’t know who we can trust, I only feel safe with one of my brothers keeping an eye on Reagan, and this week, I really can’t spare one of them to babysit her.
Reagan lets out a little scream of frustration, turning on her heel and stomping out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, I hear a door slam further down the hall.
“Ah yes, the picture of maturity,” I mumble under my breath.
I feel my brothers’ gaze burning on me in the silence.
“Something to say?”
“She’s got a point…” Surprisingly, it was Aidan who spoke.
“I know she’s got a fucking point. I know.
” I slam the pan of eggs down on the metal grate, my exhaustion splintering the usual tight control I have on my emotions.
“But we’ve got a traitor in the Irish, traffickers in the city, and the fucking Russians and Italians breathing down our necks.
It’s not the right time.” I bite out each syllable.
Aidan’s jaw clenches, but he finally nods in agreement.
I sigh. “Where are we at with the warehouse?’
It’s Liam who speaks up this time. “We’re at a standstill. We know the Italian Consigliere’s involved, since it was his warehouse that we found the girls in, but we know their Capo’s stance on the trade.”
It’s true. Cole DeLuca, though the same age as me, has been Capo since he was eighteen years old and has always stood firmly against selling bodies.
“So, is Cole stepping into the dark side, or is Matteo stepping out on Cole?” Alex asks.
My eyes slide to Aidan, watching his face closely. “Matteo’s set to marry Adrik Kostalov’s daughter this weekend. Forging a blood alliance between the Italians and the Bratva.” The latter have made a lot of money selling skin. “Unlikely coincidence.”
Aidan’s jaw ticks but he says nothing.
“Did you get anything useful out of the girls we found in the warehouse?” I dump the pan of eggs on the table and crash into one of the chairs while they dig in.
It’s Alex who speaks this time. “Not really, aside from that they were all grabbed within 24 to 48 hours of being taken to the warehouse. All local.” So they are after American product.
“We checked the rest of Matteo’s warehouses but found nothing.
His warehouse wasn’t set up for holding girls.
They had to be moving them somewhere else. ”
“Briar’s local,” I muse, not realizing I’ve said the words aloud until I notice all three of my brothers staring at me, their silence pointed.
“Briar, was it?” Liam’s brow rises as he bites down on a forkful of eggs.
I ignore him. “Any intel on why they targeted the girls they took?”
“Likely hand-picked.” Alex confirms one of my fears. “Young, pretty, and poor; girls unlikely to be reported missing. Most of them are either brand new to the city or traveling from out of town.”
I run back over what I know about Briar, which isn’t much. She’s a dancer—ballet specifically. I’d thought she came from money, but then I remember her tiny apartment in that shitty-ass neighborhood. I might have been wrong about that, but she definitely has family and ties to the city.
“And the guard?” I ask. While we were sorting out the warehouse, another one of the Italians showed up for his shift. My guys have been working him over to wring out what information they can.
“Low level,” Liam tells me. “Knew little, but confirmed the girls were inventory for an upcoming auction.”
That piques my interest and I lean forward. “When?”
Alex shakes his head. “Sometime soon, but of course he’s not high enough up to know specifics.”
“This ring goes deep. The cops found all the trafficking evidence we left behind in the warehouse, along with our anonymous tip, and buried it.” Liam frowns.
“What do our cops have to say?”
“Nobody knows anything.”
I scoff, not believing that for a second. “Lean on them.”
Liam smiles. “I can do that.”
“And we need in on that auction.” So far we’ve raided a few warehouses and clubs that have been trafficking girls, but it doesn’t seem to matter.
For every one we take out, two more pop up in its place.
The only way to handle this is to rip it out by its roots, find the head of the snake and kill it.