Chapter 45
Matteo
The gates of the O'Brien estate creak open under the weight of centuries of hate and bloodshed. We don't knock. We walk in. Me, my brothers, Nico, Leo, and two of my cousins, all of us armed, all of us ready. The sun isn’t even up yet, but our fury lights the morning like a funeral pyre.
Grandfather and Father said it was best if they stayed back and let me win this fight because it's mine. Grandfather said I only need to call and they will be next to me without any questions.
None of us say a word as we move through their land like a storm that has already decided what to ruin.
Every step echoes like it knows what I’m here for.
The mansion rises in the distance, less like a home and more like a monument to everything we hate about them. Ivy claws up the stone like fingers trying to pull it down from Heaven. Lights glow in a few windows. I wonder which one is hers.
A ghost of her voice haunts my memory:
“You told me to let you know when I’ll jump…”
She did.
I caught her.
But this time, they took her and I’m not here to catch anyone. I’m here to burn.
A figure steps into view at the front steps. Conor.
His hair’s slicked back like he owns the fucking world. Arrogance is painted across his face like war paint but when his eyes find mine, when he sees the gun pointed straight at his mother standing just behind him, I finally see fear in those sharp Irish eyes.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve—” he starts.
I raise the barrel half an inch. As my brothers and cousin step in line with me. There was a worry itching within me, that she might not be here, now I see there is no one but Conor and his mom. If she was here, there would be more of them here.
“I told you,” I say, my voice low, guttural. “If she got hurt, if you so much as breathed wrong near her, I’d come knocking.”
“Put the gun down, Matteo,” he warns, glancing to his left. “Call your dogs off before I start shooting.” He brings his hand to his side with a gun.
I raise a brow. He has to be joking; he’s outnumbered.
“I’m sure, I can do worse.”
He freezes, only for a second.
His mother gasps behind him. My finger twitches on the trigger, I watch Conor’s jaw tick, the fury battling something else. Something worse… guilt, maybe?
“Where is she?” He doesn't answer. I take a step forward. “Where the fuck is she?”
“She’s not here.” He smiles. “You can look in the house if you want.”
Wrong answer, I level my gun on his mother. If he thinks I’m joking, he’s fucking wrong.
“I swear,” Conor says, voice hoarse, “I didn't know what they were planning. It was Dad.”
My voice cuts through him like a blade. “I don’t give a shit which one of you devils signed the paper. You all let it happen.”
Silence.
I tilt my head, and stare at his mom for a moment as you can see the fear in her as her body trembles, my lips curling, then I shift my attention back to Conor.
“You have two choices. One, tell me where she is, or two, like my father who has had to live without his mother, like myself not knowing my grandmother, I can make it the same for you.”
“You wouldn’t.” Conor stares at me, his eyes not changing from the blank look. Never show fear, but when I shoot his mother in the arm, it changes.
Every man has one weakness, their mother.
Now I’m not a fucking crazy asshole. I don’t kill women—I’m not them—but for my girl, I’m happy to hurt one.
“What the fuck?” Conor shouts, and tries to move to his mother, but Nico stops him, and Marco places a gun to his head.
“Now where is she?” I ask again.
“She’s in Ireland,” Conor says finally. “In the north. Our house.” He looks down. “She’s safe. For now.”
I lower the gun, just slightly.
I look over at my brothers, and it’s Nico who gives me a nod telling me to leave. We have the answers, we don’t need to stay here.
“If you tell them we’re coming, or if a finger has touched her wrong…”
Nico steps forwards and says, “We won’t just kill you. We’ll erase you. Name, blood, fucking legacy.”
No one speaks after that. We all turn and walk away.
Now it’s time to get my girl back, just have to figure out what the fuck to do.
The door slams behind us, echoing through the house as we walk further in.
She’s been with them too long, what have they done to her? They could have hurt her, made her marry the old asshole, and he could take her anywhere.
Milo called Father once we left the Irish mansion to inform us of what we know, so they can start working something out.
I place my gun on the table and stand in front of Grandfather and Father.
“They took her across; they took a jet ten minutes after taking her from the training grounds,” Uncle Sebastian says. “We’ve spoken to Lenenzo, and he has a jet ready.”
I narrow my brows, why are we not taking our jet?
“Ours is getting some work done to it. The beauty of having family everywhere.” Uncle Sebastian jokes, but I don’t smile. “Jet goes up in two hours.”
I light a cigarette with shaking hands. Every second I’m not carving Liam’s face into ribbons feels like a betrayal to her. I don’t know if it’s Liam I want to kill more or her father. He’s the one who signed the fucking papers; it’s him who should die.
“She was drugged,” I mutter.
Marco doesn’t look at me. “We know.”
“Do you have a plan?” Grandfather asks, and I lock eyes with him, and shake my head. I can’t lie, we’re going in blind.
“They want her to get married, so she’s there for that,” Father says.
My eyes move to my mother as her eyes burn into me. It’s a warning, it’s her telling me what she’s told the three of us since we held a gun in our hand.
“I know our life, a gun will always be with you three, but promise me you will never kill anyone in God’s house.”
“You need a plan B, if something happens, you’ll be ready.
You, Marco, Milo, Nico and Sebastian will be going.
If war breaks out, I want every single one of you back, and not in a fucking body bag,” Father warns, and Grandfather chuckles.
“You die, your mother will kill me. She loves me, but it will be my fault.”
“Yes, it will.” I hear my mother behind me, and it brings the first smile to hit my lips since Aoife was taken.
“They will be safe. We will work on a plan once we know where she is,” Uncle Sebastian says then continues to tell my grandfather and father everything will be done with thought and calculation before we make one move.
All eyes move to me, because they all know what I can be like, and I might fall off the plan.
“I’ll watch him.” It’s Nico who speaks. “He loves the girl too much to fuck it up.”
He could not be more right; there is no way I’m risking hurting Aoife, so whatever they say I’m doing.
We spent the next hour talking about different things that could happen, and a plan for each one to make sure we get out and don’t die.
We drive in silence. The air inside the car is suffocating, and the longer I stare out the window, the more I imagine her screaming. Bound. Alone. Her voice echoing through some cold Irish stone church while she prays to ghosts that I find her in time.
I will. Even if I have to claw through hell itself.
We step out of the car, the jet is there ready for us, and I feel a little better knowing I will soon be in the air and one step closer to her.
“Let’s get your girl.” Marco slaps my shoulder.
Behind him, Nico sharpens two knives. Uncle Sebastian's loading rounds into magazines, Milo’s on the phone with our contact in Ireland, and Marco is on his iPad looking into every camera feed he can hack into, to see the live Irish mansion feeds.
As I step onto the plane, my phone beeps with a message, and I quickly grab it out my moment praying it’s her.
Unknown number.
She gets married on the day you land, this is where…
Another message comes through with numbers, and I throw the phone to Marco so he can look into it. Who the fuck is this person, and how they hell do they know everything?
“I’ve got the address, and I’m seeing if I can hack this phone to see where the messages are coming from.” I give Marco a nod. My blood turns to ice, knowing they’re still going ahead with the plan they have, and we don't have much time.
“You know Anna said once this is all over, we need to go out for a double date.” Nico sits down next to me tapping on his phone. “She also said, tell Matteo you’ll find her.”
“Didn’t think you were the double date type of man,” I joke with him. Half the time it’s hard to get a conversation out of him, never mind seeing him on a date in a restaurant.
“I’m not, fucking hate them, but Anna is. She smiles, that's all I care about. I would much rather be out killing someone.” Now that makes me laugh, the man is always thinking about killing someone.
I suppose this is the best person to have in my corner when we land in Ireland.
Now I have to wait for us to cross the fucking pond, to get my girl back. I hear Marco in the back talking about where the church is, and other things, but at the moment, I can’t focus on anything.
I just need to get there.