Chapter 15
Massimo
The Irish shipment burned just like we had planned. Nothing went wrong, it was almost like my mother was watching over us to make sure the bastards knew they fucked with the wrong family.
One week, and nothing from the Irish. No retaliation. No whispers. Just silence. But silence in our world is never peace; it’s a loaded gun waiting to fire.
I’ve felt her presence in the house, seen the way she watches me with quiet eyes, waiting for something. But I have nothing to give her. Every breath tastes like punishment. She’s gone, and I wake up remembering why my mother isn’t here.
Today is my mother’s funeral. I wear black, a pair of sunglasses shielding me from the world. Shielding my grief, my rage, my guilt.
I stand apart from the others as the last of the dirt is thrown over her grave. My father, my siblings, my uncles, they all turn away, murmuring their final goodbyes. But I stay where I am.
I wait for them all to be far away before I speak “I’m sorry.
” My voice is low, hoarse. “I should have protected you. Should have seen it coming.” The wind shifts.
The leaves rustle, whispering things I can’t understand.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” I continue, my jaw clenching, “but I promise you, they will pay.” I let out a slow, shaky breath, tilting my head back toward the sky.
“You told me once that life is a game of power, that I’d have to make impossible choices.
” My throat tightens. “You were right.” I remember every single word my mother said to me, now I wonder if the words she spoke were to get me ready for today.
Did she know her time was going to be up sooner than ours and she was preparing me with her words.
I close my eyes for a long moment, breathing in the cold air. A warm hand slides into mine. I don’t have to look to know it’s Maria. I feel her every time she’s close to me.
Her fingers tighten slightly around mine, offering something neither of us can name. I let her hold me. Just for a second.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t been the husband you deserve.” I keep my eyes on my mother’s grave.
“It’s been a hard week for everyone, but no matter what, Massimo, I’m standing next to you, because our time on top of this city is coming.”
The corners of my lips curl into a smile. One week into the family and my wife is already starting to sound like one of us. I turn to her, gently lifting the cross around her neck, which her uncle gave to her the morning of the wedding and smile as I gaze into her beautiful eyes.
“We’re already on top.” Dropping the cross back against her skin, I lean down and give her a small kiss.
We’re in the family restaurant. We closed it for the day not wanting anyone here but family. The music is playing, everyone is telling stories about my mom, some make me smile, some make me miss her.
Maria has been by my side all day, with Jo as they both talk, and Sebastian being Sebastian is trying to get Jo’s attention. Even on a day like today.
He walks over to me shaking his head and sits on the other side. “You would think your mom is looking down at us and would help me with Jo. She always thought we’d end up together, still not seeing it.” He moans, and I laugh.
It was one thing my mother told Sebastian, stop sleeping around and focus on the girl you want. Jo. The man has been in love with her forever, I just don’t understand why he can’t ask her out.
“My mother is probably laughing because you’re being a pussy and won’t just ask her out.” I slap his arm and start laughing when he tells me to fuck off. “Just ask her.”
“Well, if I ask her today, she’s going to think I’m an ass for only thinking about my dick at a time like this. I’ll wait.” He takes a sip of his whiskey, and I laugh and reply.
“Yeah, until you’re an old dick.”
He goes to say something but stops when the doors swing open. What the fuck is he doing here?
Rowan O'Brien walks in and two of his men follow, but I already know who isn’t here. His son Liam.
Rowan sits across from us, his face set in stone. He doesn’t look afraid. Doesn’t seem angry either. He looks like a man trying to stop a war he knows he can’t win.
“This war wasn’t my decision.” His voice is calm, careful. “It wasn’t the Irish's decision.”
I say nothing, waiting. My father does the same.
“My son acted alone. The attack at the wedding was his own doing. He was blinded by vengeance, anger.” His jaw tightens. “And he will be punished for it.”
I arch a brow. “Punished?”
Rowan nods once. “He’ll answer for what he’s done. I don’t want this war. I never did. My son was thinking like a little boy, but he will be punished as a man.”
For a moment, the only sound is the low hum of the restaurant, as everyone is listening to every word he is saying.
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. “You think that changes anything?” My voice is soft, deadly. “You think I care if he acted alone?” Rowan watches me, his expression unreadable. I tilt my head. “He made his choice the second he stepped onto our land with a gun.”
Maria shifts slightly behind me, but I don’t turn. I keep my eyes locked on the man who let his son destroy my wedding, my family.
“You want peace?” I murmur. “Fine.” I pause, letting the silence stretch.
Then, I continue, my voice dark and final.
“But understand this, O'Brien, no Irish sets foot on our territory again. Ever.” I hold his gaze, also giving my dad the chance to say something, but he doesn’t so I continue.
“And your son? One day, be it in ten years, twenty, fifty, I will kill him. My children will know his name, and what he did. If I’m dead, they will kill him, or his children if any Irish sets foot on any part of this town that is ours. ”
Rowan exhales, his expression tightening, but he doesn’t argue. He simply nods once, rising from his chair, and without another word, he walks out.
The moment the doors close behind him, my father speaks, his voice is quiet but firm. “I am proud of you.”
I glance at him, and he watches me for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he leans back in his chair. “Together, we will take every inch of Blackstone Hollow.”
I exhale slowly, feeling the weight of my father’s words, but also the ones my mother said. This life will always bring war, but we control it.
War is not over. It’s only just begun.