CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Connor
M y cell phone rings, and the minute I move, all the muscles I used to fuck Raina last night ache. Twisting in the sheets sends my brain into a spasm, thinking it’s her silky skin.
But she’s not here. I woke up about an hour after the drugs wore off. I hadn’t heard from her since, and like a sap, I kept checking my phone.
The clattering doesn’t stop. Seeing it’s Shane, I answer it instead of letting it go to voicemail. “Alo? What?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
I peek at the time on my phone. “It’s one p.m.”
“You sound like you just woke up.” Shane clears his throat. “Late night with anyone special?”
His question halts my brain. “No.”
“No one, or no one special?”
“What do you want, Shane?”
“I gathered some interesting intel. Come to my office.”
I curse inwardly, my head still pounding. That can mean fucking anything.
“I’ll be there in thirty,” I say and end the call, groaning.
After a shower, I reach Shane’s office trailer, and his guard Creed opens the door. His dark eyes assess me before he steps aside.
Inside, I notice not only Shane, but Griffin and Trace and Rhys. My heart drops into my stomach. My eyes narrow on Rhys, who shakes his head with the tiniest of movements.
He’s signaling that he hasn’t said anything about Raina showing up at his apartment to collect weapons she tried to kill me with, or our clean-up party after I killed two men for her.
When you say it like that...
But no one knows she was with me last night. No one named Quinlan. I think.
Sleeves rolled up and an open folder in front of him, Shane sits at his desk with Griffin leaning against the wall behind him.
I drop into the chair across from Shane, feigning boredom even as my pulse hammers in my throat. “This better be good.”
Shane flips something in the folder on his desk. “Oh, it is.”
Trace straightens to his full height, tattooed hands tucked into his trousers. His discarded suit jacket exposes a worn leather shoulder holster. His expression is as blank as ever. Rhys rocks on his heels, fingers tucking strands of hair back into his man bun.
It becomes clearer by the second that this might very well be an intervention. They know about Raina, that she was DEA, and that I fucked her. What the hell else do they know about her? And why is the hair on the back of my neck standing up?
I should have known another shoe would drop. If Shane has more intel on Raina, I hope it’s something I can use as leverage to figure out who sent her to kill me. Or keep her.
Griffin squeezes his phone. “Get to it, Shane.”
My brother leans forward. “I have more details on the woman whose hair was in that comb.”
Fuck. At least my intuition isn’t shot.
“Raina?” My fingers drum against the chair’s armrest as I play dumb. “Aye?”
Shane pushes the file toward me with no expression on his face. “I kept a few strands to do some more digging.”
I sit back and glance at him. “You have nothing better to do?”
Shane leans back. “No offense to your love life, Connor, but a one-night stand who used to be DEA, who then showed up at the governor’s campaign fundraiser, and again at The Sterling exhibit are too many blinking lights for me to ignore.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “I think you doubt my fucking abilities. She clearly wants more of my cock.”
That’s not a lie.
“I heard her from the courtyard in June,” Rhys says wryly. “No one is questioning your manhood.”
“Her DNA report revealed a few alarming details,” Shane says and clicks on the monitor above his desk. “And I did some hacking to confirm the rest.”
I stare at the screen, which shows a report. A garble of paragraphs and a few blacked-out lines from the lab Shane uses. “And?”
“She has ties to the Albanians,” he deadpans.
I stiffen hearing that, and now I’m worried I played this all wrong.
“With orders to kill you,” Griffin adds calmly. When I keep my jaw still as looks are exchanged around the office, he grumbles, “You knew that part, didn’t you?”
These brats know me so well. Know that if this were breaking news, I’d be tearing this place apart in a rage.
Bracing for impact, I say, “Aye. Just not who sent her. The Albanians, huh? Doesn’t matter. I stopped her.”
“With your cock?” Shane asks in disbelief.
“Rhys just said not to question my manhood.” I fold my arms.
“What in fuck’s sake are you doing?” Griffin leans down and gets in my face. “Do you want Ma to bury another child? ”
If the goal was staying alive at all costs, we chose the wrong damn profession. But Ma couldn’t survive another child’s funeral. Not after Norah.
“Let’s focus here.” I snap my fingers. “Raina is related to the Albanian crime lord? Or has ties? Talk?”
Shane’s elbows hit the desk, his wedding ring glinting off the summer sunlight streaming in from the window. “The new Albanian kyre is feeding her lies. Noel Tahiri told her Levin Berisha was her father, and it’s her duty to avenge his death.”
That nugget hits me like a ton of bricks.
“You’re fucking kidding me?” I shake my head in disbelief that in today’s day and age, the Albanians resorted to something so low-tech.
“No,” Shane answers as if it weren’t a rhetorical outburst.
“A highly skilled marksman trained by the DEA who was just fired?” Rhys says, rubbing his chin. “Doesn’t seem far-fetched.”
“Wait. It’s a lie?” I shake my head. “What’s the lie?”
“She’s not Berisha’s daughter,” Griffin jumps in. “We had DNA on him from the attack at Luxe.”
I open the folder and study the report, scanning for inconsistencies, but it’s all there in black and white. The DNA report Shane managed to hack from the crime scene after Lennox’s nightclub attack confirms Berisha’s bloodline is not a perfect match to Raina’s.
“There’s something else interesting, though,” Shane says, tapping the page. “She’s not a match to Berisha, but there’s a familiar Albanian strain. She and her mother migrated here from neighboring Montenegro when she was an infant.”
“Let me guess.” I already know where this is going.
Shane nods. “More than likely, her mother had an affair with someone else in that brotherhood. ”
“Raina Riatt is someone’s mistake,” Griffin mutters.
Anger roils through me. How dare he characterize the woman I’ve not been able to stop thinking about as a mistake.
“They’re using her as a pawn.” I get to my feet and start pacing. “Found her at her lowest point when she had nowhere to go. No one to turn to.”
She’s got me now. I’ll make this right.
Griffin cups my shoulder with bruising strength. “Whoever she belongs to, they’re using her to put a bullet in you.”
“Wait. Why me?” I look around the room. “I didn’t kill Berisha.”
“Classic mistaken identity,” Shane says, looking guilty. “Whoever briefed Noel after he took over said it was you. Not me.”
“Or showed a picture and asked around,” Rhys says, looking from me to Shane. “You two look a lot alike.”
The laugh that escapes me is dark and amused.
“I’m not clearing that up.” I settle back into my chair. “I’m not turning some high-strung girl with a gun on my little brother who’s going to be a father.”
Griffin watches me carefully. “We don’t want anyone with a gun going after any of us.”
“She’s already targeted me. I’m the best situated to handle her now that I know exactly who she is and why she wants me dead.” I grin. “I’ll take care of it.”
Rhys is still watching me. But he’s quiet, which is never a good sign. He knows something else.
“How?” Griffin asks me. “Are you going to kill her?”
“Hell no.” My blood heats at just the idea of hurting her. “I’ll bring her to my tunnel and make her tell me everything about the brotherhood. Then we go after Noel.”
They’re a fucking nuisance. They stole weapons from us, even though we got them back and killed their couriers. Berisha stormed Lennox’s club and roughed her up, but Shane killed him.
Then they put a hit on me . But I have their secret weapon, who just happens to be obsessed with my cock. And our little game.
Shane lowers his head, and after making a tight fist, he says, “There’s one other thing, Connor.
Rhys told me where Noel lives. We snagged a cleaning lady and paid her to keep her ears open for shit they don’t put in texts.
She informed us that Noel told Raina he plans to marry her to secure his place as kyre . ”
My legs lose their feeling, and I can’t breathe. “Why? If he knows she’s not Berisha’s daughter?”
Rhys utters the words before Shane gets a chance to. “Someone is telling lies over there. To Tahiri. To her. Somone promised her a place in their world. A princess fairy tale. Tempted her with a shiny crown.”
I meet his gaze, unflinching. “She’s not like that. She doesn’t care about a crown.”
“But she has nothing else,” Shane says.
“She has me.” My words shock the shit out of everyone.
Before anyone can tell me I’m insane, Shane rakes a hand through his dark auburn hair. “That sucks for you because the minute someone gets their hands on her DNA and finds out she’s not Berisha’s daughter, Tahiri will most likely murder her.”
“We need to contain this before it blows up. I’ve heard enough.” Griffin turns to Trace. “Find her. Bring her to the tunnel for interrogation. I want to talk to her.”
Trace doesn’t hesitate. “Done. Rhys, let’s go.”
They leave, and I curse under my breath, worried about what Griffin will do to her. She hasn’t hurt me, except for drugging me. But I stupidly think it’s because she likes how I fuck her. Now, I’m worried she’s reckless and unhinged if she were desperate enough to believe the Albanians.
Griffin showing up, the king, the don, the boss, might set her off. She’s got skills and tricks he’s not prepared for.
“I need a fucking smoke,” I grumble and jog outside the trailer to catch up with Rhys.
Neither Griffin nor Shane follow me outside. They hang back to talk about something in the trailer. Something they don’t need me for.
Or they’re talking about me.
The Albanians are fucking with Raina, and my brothers are fucking with me.
Outside, Trace heads to his Mercedes. His wide shoulders and his lethal grace make me glad he’s on our side. Cousin or not.
I wait until he’s out of earshot before I grab Rhys. “I need you to stand down, cousin.”
Rhys doesn’t break his stride. “Not my call, and I don’t defy orders.”
“I’m a fucking boss, too.”
Rhys grits his teeth. “What do you want from me?”
I keep my voice low. “I have an idea.”
He stops and turns to face me with sharp, calculating eyes. “You’re playing with fire.”
I cross my arms. “That fire is what we need to burn down the Albanian Brotherhood. Not just their armory this time.”
Rhys shakes his head. “It’s your funeral. Or worse, your excommunication from Quinlan Empire.”
“She’ll come back on her own. She has to. They told her to kill me, and I’m still breathing.”
My cousin studies me, weighing my words. He’s been an assassin for years, but he’s not just muscle. He was a private security contractor for Leinster House in Dublin like Trace. Rhys not only sees things, but he also understands them.
Like the fact that I have no intention of letting Blade and Jett manhandle Raina to get her into their SUV.
Like the fact that I don’t want her tied down on my table, my slab, answering to Griffin or Shane.
Like the fact that I need her to come to me first.
Raina Riatt. My lovely venomous snake.
And what do snakes like to eat?
Mice.
Or better yet?
Rats.
“Before you and Trace find Raina, grab me an Albanian boss. Someone who reports to Noel.” Someone who will set off alarm bells in York Towers. “Use whatever muscle you need. Bring one of those scumbags to my tunnel.”
“What are you doing, Connor?”
“Setting a trap.”