Chapter One
Peter
Six Months Earlier
I’d tried to come up with a million different reasons why Ivan didn’t need to meet with me. Even though shit had seriously hit the fan, Ivan asking for me personally, and alone, was never good. The secret location also wasn’t good. So far, I’d made it out into the middle of fucking nowhere. My soldiers hadn’t been allowed to join me.
There wasn’t even a chance for me to write a goodbye note. I didn’t know if this was Ivan going off the deep end and killing his Brigadiers. My loyalty was without question. In the last few years, he did have a change of heart. At one point I was engaged to a horrible heiress slut, who I couldn’t stand. It wasn’t long after a meal with Slavik and his wife Aurora that all engagement and ties changed. This was a relief to me.
I couldn’t stand the wife that had been chosen for me. She was a giant slut, which wasn’t the problem. No, it was her nastiness and deep-seated evilness. I did happen to understand her, but I didn’t like her. Fucking her had been easy. Sex always was, even if I didn’t like the woman. Whenever Ivan needed information and it came from a woman, I was more than happy to provide. Sex was the easy part in helping Ivan become number one.
I’d do anything for that man. There was no limit, because I knew Ivan was a great man. Someone worthy of dying for.
The fog didn’t help the horror about to unfold. It was no secret to me and Victor that Ivan was marrying off his Brigadiers. First Slavik, then Andrei, and the last one to fall was Ive.
There was only Victor and myself left. For the sixth Brigadier, the title was up for grabs with two people known as The Butcher and The Beast. You’d think it was two men, but Ivan had surprised me by revealing The Butcher was indeed a woman. I still didn’t know her name, but I had seen her. The Beast, a man, also lived up to his reputation. Either one would prove to be one hell of a Brigadier, but I had no idea who Ivan would crown the victor.
Bringing my car to a stop, I already saw Ivan up ahead, standing at a gate overlooking the city.
He always liked the dramatics. Ivan considered himself an expert scene setter. He knew exactly how he liked things to play out. So far, I don’t think anything had gone against his plan.
Again, the man knew what he was doing. Nothing had failed him, which was why the Volkov Bratva hadn’t been torn apart. There were many times we could have crumbled, and Ivan kept it together. Even during that time when I thought he was dead. That seemed like a lifetime ago, but was probably only a few years, possibly more. So much shit had happened.
Ivan had known it was coming. No one could be in power for long without someone trying to take it away. I didn’t know if Slavik, Andrei, Ive, and Victor remembered our warnings. That the job of a Brigadier wouldn’t come without a steep cost.
Either way, I remembered, which is why I haven’t given up. I wouldn’t.
Parking the car, I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed out of the car. Buttoning up the two buttons of my jacket, I moved to step beside Ivan, overlooking the city.
For several seconds he didn’t say a word. Together, we stood in perfect silence. There was no reason to draw too much attention. I had a horrible feeling about what will happen, and I’d rather wait for it.
Marriage wasn’t something I cared for.
“You know, many years ago I used to think the fog that encompassed the city was some kind of supernatural warning. A call to a warriors’ fight.” Ivan turned toward me. “I was five years old. It was what made that fear worthy. Something out there was bigger than me. Bigger than all of us.”
I didn’t know Ivan at five years old. I’d heard rumors about him. Again, I didn’t know the truth, and the last thing I wanted to do was speculate. All I knew was Ivan was rejected by his father, cast aside, and should have been killed.
Ivan was invincible. I believed that now more than ever. Nothing was going to stop him. Nothing and no one.
“Nothing to say?” Ivan asked.
“Never thought of the fog. Didn’t really get the chance to see it growing up. Now, I know what it is.”
Ivan nodded. “You took your time getting here.”
“You asked me to come alone, and with the threats rising, my soldiers don’t take too kindly to the thought of my untimely passing.”
“They’re going to need to get used to it. I need you to do something for me. There’s a woman—”
There it was. A job. A woman.
I should have known.
“Shouldn’t you use Victor? Or either The Beast or The Butcher? Aren’t they eating out of your pocket?”
Ivan threw back his head and laughed. “It is good you think I could get them to eat out of my pocket, but trust me, you’re very wrong.”
I doubted that. If anyone could get either or both The Beast and The Butcher, it would be Ivan. So far, keeping them both in the same place for a long time had been trying. Ivan had succeeded.
“This situation requires a delicate hand.”
Now I nearly fell over myself laughing. There is no way I’d been described as having a delicate hand. Far from it. I was the one who could cause utter destruction.
“I need you to go to a small town, Pickle Quest. There you will find a woman going by the name of Niamh Long,” Ivan said.
He opened his jacket and presented me with a file. Taking it meant I agreed to what was about to happen. Pickle Ques t— I’d never even fucking heard of the town. Flicking open the file, I stared at a single picture of a woman. At first, I didn’t care to look at it. She looked fucking bland and boring, but then I noticed something else. This picture wasn’t taken when the woman was looking her best.
She had a split lip, blackening around the eye, and there even appeared to be sign of a cut disappearing into the hairline. What struck me hard was the look in the woman’s eyes. She’d taken a beating, but it hadn’t hit her soul. There was fire in her eyes. A desire to fight back. To get the hell away from what was hurting her.
“Who is this woman?” Peter asked.
“I told you, Niamh Long.”
“And you expect me to believe you’re interested in helping a total stranger?”
Ivan chuckled. “You’re right. This needs to have a delicate handle. Niamh is her actual name, but her last name is different. You might have heard of a Byrne.”
And then it all came clicking into place.
“This is Finn Byrne’s daughter.”
“If you want to get technical, she’s his bastard daughter. Slept with a few whores during his time. It would seem he got his favorite pregnant, and, well, Niamh, is the subject of that … union.”
“Someone know who she is?” I asked.
“Oh, that handiwork was done by her father,” Ivan said.
This made me look up from the picture. Now I was a little taken aback. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never met Finn personally, but rumor suggested he was very much devoted to family. Even if she wasn’t born in wedlock, Finn had a lot of kids like that.
“You want me to infiltrate the Irish mob?” I asked. This might be a little hard for me to do.
I understood delicate. I also knew I had a way of going from place to place without being detected. Going into the Irish mob would be more difficult, and possibly even be a guaranteed death sentence.
There was no doubt about it. Not that I minded. If Ivan needed something, he wouldn’t choose death unless he didn’t have a choice.
“No, Niamh has run away.”
Now this did surprise me.
“For the past year, she has evaded her father, as well as many other … possible problems he might have. It’s simple, Niamh is in Pickle Quest. You need to go and get her.”
“What kind of fucked-up name is Pickle Quest?” This had to be some kind of joke.
“They’re famous for their pickles,” Ivan said. “Trust me, they are delicious. Back on point, I need you to go, locate Niamh, and make her fall in love with you.”
This wasn’t the kind of mission I thought he would have in mind. Far from it.
“Is this a joke?”
“You’d know if I was joking.”
Thinking about it, Ivan was his usual self. There was no playfulness to him, no underlying mischief. Ivan usually found fun and humor in most things, but whatever it was about Niamh, he was not playing around.
I closed the file and looked at Ivan.
“What do you need me to do?” I asked.
“Plain and simply put, you need to put a baby inside her, marry her, and bring her back here, before she figures out it’s all a lie,” Ivan said. “For now, Finn is not preoccupied with finding his daughter. There will come a time when he realizes that mistake. Until then, we’re going to fix it.”
I glanced down at the closed file and then handed it back to Ivan. I already had all the information I needed.
“Get her pregnant?”
“Yes, I think it is safe to assume that if you succeed at this, Niamh Byrne will become your wife.”
Ivan didn’t say anything more and was about to head to his car.
“Do you not want Victor to do this? He is next in line.”
I didn’t know if Ivan’s laughter was designed to freak me the fuck out, or to be genuine humor.
“Next in line?”
“For you to marry off,” I said.
“There’s no order, Peter. Besides, Victor is already busy, and it is you I need help with. You’re the only one who will be able to lie to her without having a single care in the world, because I asked you to.”
“What about my territory?” I asked.
“I have already taken care of it.”
I was tempted to ask him if this was his way of getting me out of the picture, but I also didn’t want to know.
Ivan had his reasons.
Finn Byrne was a dangerous man. I didn’t even know the son of a bitch had a daughter. The very thought of a woman born to that man was a terrifying thought, and not one I relished.
There was no way this Niamh Byrne, or Long, or whatever the fuck her name was, would be a good woman.
I saw danger and I didn’t know why Ivan was playing this game. This woman was pure trouble, and it wasn’t going to end well, not at all. Not for any of us. I didn’t like this. I couldn’t stand it.
Running a hand down my face, I watch as Ivan winked at me. Gone was the serious man, even though he always lurked beneath.
“You better get started. There’s an email with all the details you’re going to need,” Ivan said. “Time is of the essence.”
I didn’t like this and part of me knew Ivan was doing this to fuck with me. I didn’t know why.
Whoever this Niamh Byrne was, her life was about to be fucking ruined.
****
Niamh
Working as a waitress wasn’t so hard. Over the years I’d come to realize that taking a job at the diner was the best form of defense. I didn’t know why, but everyone, be it local, regular, or even a tourist, always ended up at the diner. This was the best form of protection, though not always on a personal level.
Both men and women were not nice, and both could be positively cruel. Yes, I’d had my ass slapped. I’d been called a lot of rude words that I didn’t think children of any age should hear. But I did get to see everyone who arrived in town, which made the diner another great source of protection, While I was making my judgment of people, I was also well hidden. It helped that I wasn’t a pretty girl. I was the kind of woman most people glanced over without a second look. This helped me.
If anyone came to Pickle Quest at my father’s request, I would have time to make my escape, and that was most important to me.
Running away from my father wasn’t the best idea I ever had, but it was the only one that made any sense. Going to my mother was out of the question. My mom was completely in love with Finn, and, well, I was the one at fault for everything. She would gladly sell my ass to the Devil if it meant she’d get a chance to marry Finn.
She had me, and had tried to have more children, but Finn Byrne was a fussy bastard. It would seem he had a taste for women, but once they gave birth, if they didn’t provide him with the right kind of child, then you were all but dead to him.
This should have meant I got to grow up without a father. No such fucking luck. Nope, as much as my mother became dead to him, he kept coming around to play with her. I’d often heard him refer to her as his fuck toy, which was totally gross. She loved it, though, relished every second with him. Finn Byrne was all she wanted.
To be honest, I think she wanted the title he had to offer. It had nothing else to do with Finn. She loved the idea of people being afraid of her. That was the draw for her, the drug. She got a small taste of it and from that moment on, nothing else could compare.
Just thinking about my mother brought back all the anger and frustration I had spent a long time trying to repress. There was a time I worried about the way I felt for my mother. I feared I would turn into the very type of person I hated. The guilt would threaten to completely consume me, but now, I saw the truth.
It had taken me a long time to accept that it’s perfectly fine to not like my parents. Not that it has always been easy to accept. For the longest time, all I ever wanted was to have a family like the ones depicted on billboards, or in cliché movies. Like the dad that wanted to spend time with me and see his little girl grow up, or the mom that didn’t mind baking cookies or making spaghetti sauce from scratch.
That was the life I craved.
I never got it.
In fact, the last time I saw my father, I ended up with a split lip, a black eye, and a cut that bled into my hairline. This wasn’t the first time I’d gotten on my dad’s last nerve. What did I do? I wasn’t pretty enough. He decided I looked too damn ugly, and he wanted to teach me a lesson.
There was a time when he also tried to rip my hair out. Yeah, that sucked. He wanted a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty. What he got was a brown-haired, brown-eyed ugly. That’s what he called me.
Running away was either a stroke of genius, or completely stupid. I hadn’t made up my mind yet which it was. With no one following me, I was happy to think of it as a genius move, but if he ever came for me, then I’d know I was a fucking idiot.
At least Pickle Quest was nice. Don’t get me wrong, none of the locals were very accepting of a stranger. I’d been in town four months, and still, people didn’t like to make small talk with me. Not that I minded. I wasn’t good at small talk, or any kind of talk. It was easier not to get close to anyone. This meant I didn’t have to fabricate any lies. I decided to keep to the basics. I was Niamh Long, twenty-five years old, and my parents were both dead. A tragic car accident. Graduated high school and since then, jumped from job to job as I traveled. Basic, easy to remember, and it doesn’t give anyone the chance to ask questions.
So far, it had worked for me. It was terrifying. I didn’t know if my father was ever going to come after me. I’d not stolen from him or my mom. Even before I left, I had been sneaking around, doing odd jobs, building some savings. The plan had always been to leave. Knowing who my father was, and what he was capable of, meant the only solid plan I had in my life was to run like hell.
That was all I wanted to do.
To be free.
Freedom wasn’t quite as fun as I thought it would be. There was always that fear. The fear of my father finding where I was and ruining it. This is why I didn’t even bother to try and make friends. I was guessing that was why the good locals of Pickle Quest hadn’t tried to run me out of town.
I was a single woman, working hard, and not getting into anyone’s business. This was all I wanted.
Plastering on a fake smile, I put down the latest steak-and-fries order. Three guy s— I think they were rancher s— always came in and ordered the largest steaks the diner had to offer. The first day I worked here, I got their order wrong, and they made my life so damn hard that day. The next time, I got their order right, I expected the same kind of treatment, yet they left me alone.
This had been our pattern. They came in, ordered the biggest steak and fries, along with lots of coffee. I served them, they ate, and left.
When I first saw them, I thought they were going to cause a lot of trouble, but nope, just nice guys with a rough exterior.
My smile was pointless. With the last plate ordered, I spun around toward the door as I heard the bell dingle.
A guy I had never seen before stepped into the diner, cell phone in hand, along with a scowl on his face. My first instinct was to run. There was something about this guy that had every alarm bell going off inside my head.
I needed to run.
But he didn’t even look around the diner. He didn’t even see me noticing him, with how attentive he was to his cell phone. The only time he glanced up was to check for a seat, and I noticed he went toward the far corner of the diner and slid inside the small booth.
The diner wasn’t too busy today, so he did have a choice. Lunchtime run had already gone, which meant we were on a steady slump till about five o’clock, when the dinner rush would start. So far, I’d not experienced anything too troubling.
This man, though… My alarm bells were ringing with his deep-black hair, and I think I’d spotted blue eyes, maybe. I hadn’t really paid too much attention. He wore a white shirt, rolled up to his elbows, showcasing several tattoos, and that wasn’t unusual either. A lot of the men in Pickle Quest loved to get inked. Even the three guys I served regularly had their arms heavily inked. The man in the corner was also dressed in jeans and what looked like boots. Work boots? I didn’t know.
No one was serving that corner other than myself. This was a risk. I promised myself that any question of doubt, and I’d be hightailing it right out of there. That was the super plan. Only, running away would mean defeat, for a guy that might have never come into the diner.
With my notepad and pen in hand, I made my way toward the mystery man. Squaring my shoulders, I was trying not to seem as tense as I felt. This was next to impossible. I felt so incredibly tense.
Standing in front of this man, I tried not to think or to feel, or to showcase fear. I had no idea if I was managing to achieve these things.
“Afternoon, what can I get you?” I asked.
He didn’t even look up. His cell phone seemed to be interesting to him, which I was more than okay with. It allowed me to look at him closely to see if I recognized any distinguishing marks, like my father’s insignia. Finn Byrne liked to use the insignia of a bull with horns dripping with blood. It was always a small symbol, but it was ugly as fuck. My dad always said that anyone willing to mark their body with such an ugly piece of shit would be loyal to him. There also had to be the initials, “FB.” For generations my father and his father, and his father’s father, had always been called Finn Byrne. This is why it was important to my father to marry the woman who had given him a son.
I had a brother out there. Actually, I had a lot of brothers and sisters. A woman finally giving birth to a son hadn’t meant my father remained loyal to her. Nope. There were a lot of us Byrnes.
Seconds passed, maybe even minutes, as I stopped and waited for whatever he was going to order.
“What’s good here ”— he stopped to look u p— “Niamh?”
Okay, first, I loved his deep, guttural voice. It was kind of shocking, yet exciting at the same time. There was a slight accent there I couldn’t quite place. It was so subtle, it was impossible to detect. Then the way he said my name … wow.
“Uh, pretty much everything on the menu is good.” I know because one of the perks of working here all day is they give you free lunch, so long as you try something on the menu. Over the last few months, I had tried pretty much everything.
The food was amazing. I knew why the diner was always so busy, and why a lot of people opted to come here to eat rather than cook at home.
Still, the guy hadn’t said another word, so I knew he was waiting for the recommendation. Reaching out, I grabbed the menu and quickly scanned over the new recipes. “The chicken burger is great. The Mexican sub is amazing.”
“I’ll go with the chicken burger, extra fries, extra cheese,” he said. “Also, chocolate milkshake, extra sauce.”
Okay, it was wrong to be attracted to a guy I had only just seen for like five minutes, probably not even that.
Extra of everything, and a chocolate milkshake.
I quickly wrote down his order, kept a smile on my face, and then turned to leave. My nerves had started to get the better of me. I felt that twisting in my stomach, and that sick feeling I struggled to ignore.
Ringing up the new order, I told myself not to turn back and look, but I just couldn’t help it. Turning back toward the corner of the room, the mystery man was still looking at his cell phone. He had absolutely no interest in me whatsoever.
I didn’t know why all my senses were going off, but right now, I hated every one of them. This guy posed no threat to me. He didn’t work for my father, and I needed to learn to stop freaking out. I’m the one that had nearly caused a scene. This was just a hot guy, traveling. I didn’t know his name, who he was, or what he was doing, and it didn’t matter to me either way.
We were two strangers who had found Pickle Quest, and that was how it was going to stay.
End of sample chapter