CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tierney
“You’re going to tuck tail, shut your mouth, and let me do the talking.”
Tiernan finally opened his mouth after a silent drive to the Ferrantes’ mansion. I thought he’d read me the riot act as soon as we got in the car, but he didn’t speak a word, which put me on edge.
My twin got out of the car, rounded it, and grabbed me by the back of the neck like I was a wild animal, guiding me across the winding pathway toward the grand double doors.
When I confessed to him over coffee that I spoke with Agent Rothwell, my brother went ballistic. I’d expected this reaction but not that he’d hand me straight to the Ferrantes. A few minutes after my confession, Tiernan got a call from Don Vello himself, demanding my head on a platter.
Someone snitched, and I didn’t know who.
Considering Tiernan and I were alone in his backyard when we discussed it and that I didn’t tell another soul, it left me wondering if Tom Rothwell was a dirty fed getting a paycheck from Vello.
It didn’t make much sense, but who else could it be?
“What do I need the Camorra’s pardon for, anyway?” I bit out, trying to shrug Tiernan’s touch off my neck. He gripped me harder in response as he let himself into the mansion and led me up the curved stairway to Vello’s office.
“If you don’t get pardoned, you’ll spend the rest of your life running. Vello will catch you, even from prison.” Tiernan gave me a less-than-pleasant shove up the last stair. “And when he does, death would be a sweet, unattainable fantasy.”
A chill ran through me. Tiernan kicked the door to Vello’s office open, dragging me into the lion’s den by the arm.
I’d been here before, when Tiernan negotiated his marriage to Lila.
The office, like the man, was vast and imposing.
Heavy mahogany desk, upholstered velvet settee, and a gold-plated mirror gave the room a dramatic flair, all bracketed by pictures of the Ferrante family.
A legacy of violence, cruelty, and tradition.
Behind a chessboard with gilded, hand-carved pieces sat Don Vello Ferrante.
To his right stood Luca and Enzo. To his left, Achilles, the now-errant son. He looked like he’d been beaten to near death.
Terror twined around my spine. I was deep in enemy territory with no one but my brother to count on.
Going to Rothwell had been an impulsive mistake.
I could see it now. I wanted to ruin Achilles’s life, but I just might pay for it with my own.
Moreover, handing him to Rothwell didn’t feel half as good as I’d thought it would.
Yes, a part of me loathed Achilles for all he’d put me through, but another part would forever remember him as the boy who gave me my first earth-shattering kiss.
“Tiernan,” Vello greeted, not even sparing me a look. “Sit.”
My brother assumed the seat in front of Vello, planting me on the one next to it.
For once in my life, I found myself shutting up despite myself.
“I respect you, Tiernan.” Vello tossed an unholy amount of what looked like painkillers into his mouth and flushed them down with a tumbler of bourbon.
“You’re a decent husband to my daughter, accomplished in your field, and for the most part, you stay out of my lane.
Your sister, however, is another story. Considering she’s just landed us in a world of pain and possible imprisonment, I cannot allow her to leave this place outside of a body bag. ”
Fear twisted my gut into a tight knot. I’d come here against my will, counting on Tiernan to make things right. My twin brother had always been the smart, quick-witted, calculated one. But what if his calculation was wrong this time? What if these were my last few moments on planet Earth?
I knew Achilles would be happy to do the honor after what I did to him. Judging by the busted-up face, our weekend together cost him much more than the throne.
“The unwarranted hysteria is unbecoming.” Tiernan crossed his legs, leaning forward to flick open Vello’s cigar box and help himself to one.
“No one’s going to prison, and no one’s leaving here in a body bag.
” He allowed a pregnant pause, grabbing a cigar cutter and pinching the tip.
“Unless any of your men touches my sister, in which case, I’ll have no choice but to kill them. ”
Vello narrowed his eyes. My brother continued.
“Tierney gave Rothwell a USB containing next to nothing. She’s not going to the safe house to meet him.
He can do jack shit with out-of-context text messages that may or may not be fabricated.
Rothwell doesn’t have any more case against you than he did yesterday morning. ”
“How do we know she won’t go to him?” Vello flicked his gaze to me, snarling.
“I’ll be her guarantor. I’ll personally escort her to the airport.”
I kept my expression neutral, the heat of Achilles’s unrelenting glare burning a hole through my cheek.
“I don’t trust her not to come back and fuck shit up,” Luca drawled.
“She won’t.” Tiernan puffed on his cigar, stinking up the place just for the provocation of it.
“We’ve reached an understanding. Tierney was rightfully upset after your brother made her his prostitute for the weekend.
” The word seared my skin, branding it. “For this alone, you’re lucky I haven’t started a war.
Anyway, she’s over it now and ready to move on. ”
“Just to set the record straight, your sister threw herself at my feet and begged to be fucked,” Achilles said evenly, his eyes never wavering from mine as he spoke. “Didn’t you, Tierney?”
I slammed my teeth together, swallowing down a venomous remark. Now wasn’t the time to sass back. I needed to get out of here.
“You’ve lost your privilege to talk directly to her,” Tiernan announced to his brother-in-law. Guilt rolled through me. They were so close before our trip to Naples. “For the duration of this conversation, everything you say and do goes through me. Understood?”
Achilles sneered. “You can’t keep saving her forever. Sooner or later, you’ll lower your guard and someone will catch her.”
Tiernan turned to Vello. “We’re wasting time here. She needs to get on a plane before Rothwell gets his hands on her. He’ll try every loophole in the book to drag her into their headquarters and make her sing.”
Vello shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. I can’t let her walk away free. She’s a traitor.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Tiernan uncrossed his legs and put out the cigar in an ashtray.
“If you don’t pardon my sister, I’ll gather up every Irish and Bratva soldier on this continent and conquer every single Camorra territory on the East Coast. Now that Alex and I are in business, I have the means and the manpower. Don’t give me the motivation, too.”
Tiernan and Vello stared down each other. The silence in the room felt loaded like a gun.
“You won’t dare,” Vello hissed out finally.
“Try me.”
Apparently, Vello didn’t want to do that. He blinked first, his gaze skittering toward me, his mouth coiling in open distaste. “I suppose we could make it a lesson.”
I doubted he could teach me anything worth learning but kept my mouth shut. My brother was putting a lot on the line for me and not for the first time.
“What’d you have in mind?” Tiernan asked.
“She should take the knee and kiss the ring.” Vello pushed up from his seat, using his cane. “Swear loyalty to the Camorra before she leaves.”
I barked out a sarcastic laugh.
To my shock, Tiernan nodded. “That’s fair.”
My head whipped to him. “What?”
“Do as he says.” Tiernan stood.
Vello rounded his desk, leaning against it in front of me. “On your knees,” he snapped.
“Like father, like son, huh?” I sneered. “No.”
“I see you chose violence today,” Enzo said mildly. “Maybe reconsider? Your head’s too pretty to roll on my floor.”
“I choose violence every day.” I hitched a careless shoulder up. “And I’d rather die than cower to this asshole over here.”
“Tierney,” my brother snapped. “Get it over with.”
The silence cascaded along my skin like knuckles a second from delivering pain. I looked between every pair of lifeless eyes in the room. They were really going to make me do this.
Pushing a scream down my throat, I forced myself to slide down my seat until I was eye level with Vello’s crotch. Every inch of me trembled with anger and humiliation. I couldn’t breathe I was so furious.
“Kiss the ring, Miss Callaghan, and all will be forgiven.” He extended his hand toward my face. He had a pinky ring—worn out, with something in faded Italian engraved on it.
My knees scraped the lush carpet, and memories from the gulag poured into the front of my mind. My ears buzzed as mounting pressure rose inside my head.
Bend the knee.
Open that mouth.
Take out my cock.
Yes, that’s right, Irish slut. All of it.
The cold bronze of the ring bumped against my lips, urging me on. The noise in my head intensified, and the small girl that lived inside it—the one I left behind in Russia—let out a shrieking scream.
I opened my mouth and bit off his finger, clean with the damn ring.
“Puttana di merda!” Vello held his wrist with a yelp, jerking his hand back. He staggered to the floor, slithering in pain, a venomous snake who’d just gotten a taste of his own medicine. His finger was hanging loosely from his hand. I spat his blood on his face and pushed to my feet.
I stumbled backward, heaving, my back crashing against my brother’s chest. He shoved me behind his back, his pistol already drawn and aiming at his brothers-in-law.
“Move.” Luca pointed his gun at my brother, his eyes telegraphing fire. “That’s twice she blew her chance at redemption. Get out of my fucking way, or I’m taking you with her.”
“Go ahead.” Tiernan didn’t budge. It actually surprised me, and I swallowed back tears.
I knew my twin brother was madly in love with his wife.
He adored his new life with their son and had even formed a brotherhood with the Ferrantes.
His loyalty rendered me speechless. “Make your godson an orphan.”
Enzo helped Vello to his feet, tossing his father’s arm over his shoulder as he escorted him outside to be medically treated. My heart was in my throat. The taste of Vello’s blood sat heavy on my tongue.
“She’s a traitor,” Luca said.
“She’s my sister,” Tiernan reminded him.
Achilles stood in the corner of the room. His rage was quiet and dignified. His gun was cocked but aimed at the floor. “Let her go,” he told his brother.
“What are you talking about?” Luca threw him a scowl. “She’s sending you to prison.”
“Let. Her. Go.” Every word was rasped lethally, quietly, and with deathly determination. Slowly, Achilles turned to his brother, fixing the barrel of the gun on his head. He clicked the safety off.
“You won’t.” Luca snarled.
“In a heartbeat.” Achilles’s voice dripped malevolence.
“Fuck.” Luca lowered his gun, exhaling sharply. “Dad’s gonna kill you.”
“I’ll deal with him.” Achilles turned his attention to Tiernan, still holding Luca at gunpoint.
“Callaghan, get your cunt of a sister out of here before my charitable mood sours. Deposit her at the airport and make sure she goes far, far away. And you”—his gaze landed on me—“next time I see you, I’ll kill you. Make sure I don’t see you ever again.”