Chapter 20 - Liam
Liam
Another week has passed since the manor’s silence felt like peace. Now, it feels like a countdown.
My ribs have graduated from a sharp stab to a dull, throbbing ache. They’ve healed well, thanks to my savior’s steady hands. I’ve spent the last seven days watching her, tracing the curves of her body in the moonlight, memorizing every breath. And guessing her trope wrong every time.
But the rot of the city doesn’t wait for healing.
I’m standing in the shadows of a derelict shipping yard in Red Hook, the scent of salt and diesel thickening in the air. Eamon’s intel was precise. Too precise. He’d given me O’Malley’s location like a gift, a peace offering to prove his loyalty.
“The Manager is hidin’ in the back office of Warehouse 4,” he’d whispered. “Deal with the traitor, Liam. Clean your own house.”
I check the drone feed again. Three guards on the perimeter.
Two more at the loading dock. I slip through the darkness like a ghost, moving up the rusted metal gangways.
One by one, I take them out. A quick snap of the neck here, a blade to the kidney there.
Quiet. Efficient. Just like Eamon taught me. And my father.
I reach the heavy steel doors of Warehouse 4 and kick them open.
Stacks of wooden crates, smelling of cedar and contraband, fill the vast room. In the center, sitting behind an out-of-place desk in this graveyard of commerce, is Finn O’Malley.
He looks like a weasel dressed in a five-thousand-dollar suit.
Sharp, pointed features, watery eyes, and a nervous twitch in his left cheek that he tries to hide with a smug grin.
He was my father’s favorite bone-breaker.
And for the last year, I’ve left him to rot on the sidelines while I sanitized the Family soul.
“Good to see you alive, Liam,” Finn says in a reedy whine that grates on my nerves. He doesn’t move. He stands there, hands folded casually behind his back.
“It will be better to see you dead, Finn,” I growl, my piece leveled at his chest. I don’t give him a chance to reach for a weapon.
Finn just grins, tilting his head. He strolls back and forth before the desk, a subtle mock.
“I suppose I owe you an explanation.” A familiar malice glints in his eye. “You’ve become…difficult, Liam. All your clean’ business and ‘evolution.’ You’ve forgotten who we are. You’ve forgotten the weight of the crown. And its reputation.”
“I haven’t forgotten a damn thing,” I snap, stepping closer into the light. “I’ve just decided to stop feeding the parasites.”
Finn laughs dryly. “Parasites? We’re the foundation!
We’re the blood that keeps this empire running!
” He stabs a finger at me. “And don’t pretend you’re innocent, lining the coffers of the companies sending this environment to hell in a hand basket.
Acting all righteous just cause you give millions to Greenpeace. ”
“Their coffers are already bursting with or without my help. I’m just reaping the profits. And better the enemy I know.” I double down, glaring at him, cocking my pistol. “And it’s a hell of a lot better than getting kids hooked on drugs and trading in human flesh.”
Finn smiles wryly. “Aye, Donovan. From what I’ve learned, you’ve found some human flesh to keep for yourself, haven’t ye? Pretty little florist with strawberry blonde hair and a hero complex. Elexia…Carter, is it?”
Fuck. He knows.
My finger tightens on the trigger. A predatory snarl claws at my throat. “Mention her name again, and I’ll peel the skin from your bones while you’re still breathing.”
Finn’s grin widens. He deals me a mock salute. “The most amusing part of all this is that he didn’t think you’d take the bait. He thought you were too smart, too suspicious. But I knew you would.”
I freeze, heart slamming against my ribs. “What bait?”
“This.” Finn gestures o the empty office. “Me. Eamon’s intel. It was all a theatrical performance, Liam. A way to get the King away from his castle. And his Queen.”
Lexie.
I don’t wait. I lunge at him, my fist connecting with his jaw with a satisfying crack. I don’t use my gun. I want to feel him break. Driven by blinding terror, I rain down a hellfire of blows on him.
Finn collapses against the desk, coughing up a mouthful of red, but he’s still laughing.
“Foolish, reckless, too trusting boy,” he wheezes, eyeing me through blood-matted lashes.
“Eamon and I…we’ve been working together for months now, planning everything.
But once he found out about your wee lass, we knew a quick death wasn’t in the cards anymore.
After all, no one could have predicted this.
I never thought you’d actually do it, Liam.
Congratulations. You finally found her.”
His expression darkens, a cruel edge sharpening his voice. “Such a pity you won’t be keeping her.”
The world stops. My heart screams her name. Lexie.
“Where is she?” I roar, slamming him against the wall.
“Safe in her bed, I suppose.” He smells of copper and rot. “And don’t you worry, Donovan. You’ll get your chance to see her again. Right before we make her watch you die. How does it feel, knowing you won’t be there to save her as she saved you?”
Before I can wrap my head around the words, a high-pitched beep echoes through the warehouse.
I loosen my grip, and Finn scrambles away, opening a back door.
With a maniacal grin, he says, “I’d start running if I were you, Boss.
He said I could have O’Connell’s manor…But I think I’ll take the insurance payout instead. ”
A wall of sound and heat explodes. It starts at the back of the warehouse, a chain reaction of C4 rippling through the crates. I dive through a shattered window, the fire hot at my back, and plummet into the cold, black water of the East River.
I hit the surface and sink into the silent depths. I kick my way back up, breath sawing through my lungs as the warehouse turns into a funeral pyre.
But I don’t care about O’Malley. I don’t care about the explosion.
All I can think about is the manor. Lexie.
I drag myself onto the pier, ignoring the scream of my chest, then sprint for my car. I drive like a madman, breaking land speed records to get back to the Hamptons, and when I finally skid onto the driveway of O’Connell’s manor, my blood freezes.
The heavy iron gates are torn from their hinges. Two of Conor’s security team lie motionless near the fountain, their tactical gear shredded by gunfire. The front doors hang open, the interior lights flickering.
I rush inside, gun drawn. “LEXIE! LEXIE!”
Silence.
I find Conor in the foyer, slumped against the base of a marble statue. He’s clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers from a jagged bullet wound. He stares at me with eyes full of a guilt that breaks me.
“Liam…” His voice cracks. “I…I tried. We all did. But they infiltrated before we even knew they were there.”
I drop to my knees, my hands shaking. “Where is she, Conor? Where did they take her?”
“A gray van,” he groans, his head lolling back against the marble. “Eamon…he was here. He took her, Liam. He said…he said he was taking her to his ‘guest room.’”
Fuck. They’re headed back to my penthouse in the city.
I let out a sound that isn’t human—a raw, guttural howl of agony and rage. I leave Conor for the oncoming medics and sprint for the armory.
First, I grab my tactical vest, snapping it into place. I load my magazines with mechanical precision, but nothing fills my vision apart from her.
Castrate and dismember.
I made a vow. And by the time the sun rises over this cursed city, I’m going to make sure every man who touched her—every man who even looked at her—wishes they had never made me remember who I used to be.
They took my Goddess.
And tonight? I am God and the Devil.