Chapter Thirty-Three
“W hy are you bringing me to the lion’s den?” Gia broke the silence in the back seat of my Range Rover while Iven cruised the streets of Brooklyn.
“If you stayed at work, the Callaghans would know I wasn’t nearby and make a move.”
“This shit needs to stop. I’m scared,” she admitted, reaching to fumble with her bracelet before remembering it wasn’t there anymore.
“You’ve no reason to be. Tiernan knows what I’ll do to his sister if he so much as glances at you the wrong way.”
“You’d hurt a woman to get back at someone?” She turned to me, stunned.
“Hey, you were the ones who were hell-bent on being treated equally,” I deadpanned.
The truth was I could’ve executed Nash Moore in two, three, even five weeks, when there wasn’t so much heat between the Irish and me. But I needed an excuse to get away from her.
An excuse to stop myself from slipping into her bed and fucking her again while we drowned in each other’s eyes.
I had vowed the day Apollo died to never love again and managed to keep my promise to myself, even with Daniel. Gia wasn’t about to destroy my perfect streak.
The car stopped in front of a warehouse. We chose a neutral place to meet, and the Ferrantes suggested they act as mediators for the modest fee of $10K from each party. This was Camorra territory, which meant no one was about to get murdered.
At least tonight.
As soon as Gia and I made it to the door, two burly Camorra soldiers confiscated our phones and gave me a thorough pat down. When they turned toward Gia to do the same, I smiled cordially.
“Touch her, and I’ll break your trachea and make her a sustainable coffee straw out of it.”
“Leave her be, Primo.” Achilles appeared at the entrance, wearing his usual smart combo of a black shirt and matching slacks. Shame about that face, because his style was impeccable. He motioned for us to come in. “The Callaghans are already here.”
We walked through a vast, open space to a side door that led to a basement. I grabbed Gia’s wrist and held it firmly. She laced her fingers through mine and started tapping her index finger over the back of my hand in a familiar pattern.
Two, six, two.
Two, six, two.
Two, six, two.
A jolt of panic rushed through my spine, followed by immediate orgasmic relief.
She knows.
She understands.
She cooperates.
She soothes.
My muscles loosened. And in that moment, I needed her more than I’d ever needed anything else in my entire fucking life.
At the end of the stairway was a dimly lit room with a long table, a built-in kitchenette, and an overhead lamp. At the table sat Vello, Luca, an older Irish man, Tiernan, and Tierney. I recognized the twins. They both had dark red hair, almost radioactive-green eyes, and sharp, cunning features.
Luca swiftly made the introductions. The older man was Tyrone, the twins’ father and the retired boss. It was my understanding Tiernan took the reins some time ago. We all sat down.
“I see you brought your sister along.” I lit a cigarette.
“For the same reason you brought your wife.” Tiernan’s cold gaze could frost over the sun.
“Because you want to wine, dine, and fuck her afterward?” I cocked an eyebrow.
Enzo barked out a corroded laugh.
“Hey, listen, no judgment here. I’m a man of decadent tastes. You do you, buddy.”
Tiernan’s glare told me we were off to a catastrophic start. Good . My strategy for today was to show them there’d be no negotiations. Each of their soldiers who killed my father deserved to die. And anyone in my way to them was destined to a similar fate.
“Tate,” Tiernan said easily.
“Tiernan,” I answered in earnest.
“How much do you like your Mediterranean yacht?”
My eyes tapered to slits. “No.”
Don’t tell me he touched Urania . I’d only had her for three years.
“Yes,” Tiernan tsked gravely. “You know, a lot of bystanders took pictures. It’s a very fine thing, watching a superyacht burning to ash inside a large body of water.
” He flicked his phone, thumbing his screen alive and boomeranging the device across the table to me.
“Here. I kept this picture as a souvenir.”
Bastard.
And a bastard who cost me fucking two hundred million dollars.
“Blackthorn,” Tyrone piped up. “You’ve killed five of our men.”
“Boo-fucking-hoo.” I sat back, folding my arms over my chest. “Couldn’t have done it without the help of the Ferrante family.”
Tiernan speared Luca and Achilles with a bloodcurdling glare.
Achilles shrugged. “Hey, business is business. For the right price, I’d make meatballs out of you.
Eat them too, by the way.” He reached for his cigarette pack, pulling one out with his lips and lighting it.
He pointed at Tierney with the hand that held the lit cigarette.
“I always wanted to know, banshee. Does the carpet match the drapes?”
Gia choked on her saliva next to me.
Tierney, however, smiled serenely. “Seeing as you’ll never be invited to the house, I’m afraid you’ll have to take that mystery to your grave.”
Achilles beamed, elated with the challenge. “Never say never. And I’m not planning on dying just yet.”
“You sure?” Tierney raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m happy to lend a helping hand.”
“I have a good idea where I want that han—”
“Let me know when you’re done flirting.” I rolled my tongue along my upper teeth. “No pressure, though. I’ll wait.”
“Look, Blackthorn, we have no use for you as a rival.” Tyrone cleared his throat, sticking to the subject. “No territorial or financial disputes. At the same time, letting you walk away from this unharmed would send a terrible message to our enemies.”
Vello nodded in agreement.
“With that in mind, what have you got to offer us?” Tyrone asked.
After they burned down my yacht?
“I can offer a fuck off .” I lit up a cigarette Even that was generous.
“See, the three men I set out to kill murdered my father in prison and deserved the slow, violent death I granted them. The second two were collateral for going after my wife, and I’m here to tell you, you’ll be out of soldiers if you keep sending people to harm her.
You don’t want me to start striking back and going after your precious gem.
” I cast my eyes on Tierney. To her credit, she didn’t budge.
Tiernan stood to his impressive height, smashed his tumbler of whiskey on the edge of the table while dripping nonchalance, and pointed a shard at my throat, looming over the table between us.
Despite the violent act, he was calm and collected.
“You best watch your fucking mouth when you speak about my sister. I’d hate to gut you like a fish in front of your wife. ”
No, he wouldn’t. He’d probably take extreme pleasure in it.
I glared at him dispassionately. “The rumors are true then. You’re an angry, useless drunk. What a cliché.”
“Sit the fuck down before I put a bullet in your skull.” Achilles pointed at Tiernan with his cigarette. “I’m the only one here with a loaded weapon, and I don’t take kindly to people threatening my guests on my property, with the shards of a tumbler that cost me two hundred bucks, no less.”
Tiernan sank back to his seat slowly, tauntingly, never breaking eye contact.
I caught Gia glaring at me with alarm. This wasn’t going how she’d hoped for.
“Blackthorn.” Vello turned to me. “Stop wasting everyone’s time. You killed five of their soldiers in less than five months. It’s understandable they’d want compensation.”
“They burned my yacht.”
“You’re insured through your ass,” Luca deadpanned. “Give them something to work with.”
“The best I can do is pay for this asshole over here to get his dick wet in a low-grade whorehouse.” I pointed at Tiernan with my cigarette. “Maybe that’ll loosen him up.”
“Who knew all Tate needed to find his sense of humor was a megalomaniacal Irish mobster?” Enzo gleefully carved a skull into the table with his knife. “He’s a hoot tonight.”
Tiernan played with the shard of glass in his hand, a small smile on his lips.
“We’ll take your three cargo ships. The ones docked here in Brooklyn,” Tyrone offered decisively. “We need them for shipments. They’re old enough that it’s not a financial strain on your end, and peace will be restored.”
“Have you lost your plot, Da?” Tiernan impaled him with a glare. “He should be giving us a spot on the board of GS Properties and a blow job for our troubles.”
I knew any reasonable man would accept Tyrone’s offer. But I wasn’t reasonable. And I definitely wasn’t letting his son off the hook after trying to kidnap my wife. Twice . It wasn’t about Daniel’s murderers anymore. It was about Gia. I wanted them to know no one went after my wife.
“You’re getting jack shit,” I drawled. “I don’t respond well to pressure from below.”
“We’re going in circles.” Luca put out his cigarette in an ashtray, immediately lighting another one. “Tiernan, Tyrone—Blackthorn isn’t gonna budge on this. I know the man. He’s as flexible as a three-day-old corpse.”
“And just as charming,” Achilles contributed. “You do what you will with this information. But this is his best and final offer.”
“His best and final offer is nothing .” Tiernan yawned, and I had a feeling he was the same brand of crazy motherfucker as Achilles. Two peas in a fucked-up pod.
“Incorrect.” I put out my cigarette. “The alternative is war, and trust me, you don’t want to go there. Cut your losses. Move on. Don’t ever get near my wife. Great deal.”
Tiernan bowed an eyebrow. “You won’t win this, Blackthorn. What I lack in resources I make up for in cruelty. I won’t be the first to blink.”
“Why did you come here if you didn’t want to strike any sort of deal?” Tyrone turned his attention to me. He wasn’t like his hotheaded son. In another life, we could’ve gotten along.
“Mainly to piss your son off.” I hitched a shoulder up. “See up close where I want to stab him. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and if he isn’t careful, that heart is going to end up as taxidermy in my Staindrop cabin.”
I was lying, of course.
I didn’t have a cabin in Staindrop. It was a shithole.
I had a cabin in Vermont, and I actually did need to decorate that wooden wall.
Tiernan stood up again and leaned across the table until our faces were an inch apart. His eyes glinted with madness. The violence dancing inside them told me he was the worst kind of a crime lord. The type who saw killing as the destination, not a means to an end.
“I want to be clear on one thing.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, fingers splayed across the table. “If you walk out of here without giving us a concession, something to show for our trouble, I will come after you and all that’s yours. That’s not a threat, Blackthorn. It’s a promise.”
I stood up slowly, prolonging the moment. All eyes clung to us.
“Do your worst, Callaghan. I’ll do the same. May the best man win.”