Chapter 1
Sebastian
Present Day
I roll the small butterfly charm between my fingers, watching the city disappear as we drive away from the airport.
The small reminder of her feels heavier today, perhaps because I’m one step closer to keeping her forever.
I thought I’d be more nervous, but a calm sense of completion has settled in my soul.
“You sure you want to do this? We still have time to call it off,” Nico says.
I turn my head and stare at him. His grip on the steering wheel is so tight that his knuckles blanch, and his jaw holds just as much tension.
“I’m just saying,” he says through gritted teeth.
It’s all he’s been saying for the past few months, especially after we found Arthur’s treachery.
I understand why. Gianna may be my home, but Chicago is his.
Nico’s loyalty may be to me, but he still loves the city, and he’s far more concerned about the Outfit’s Underboss participating in a possible coup than finding my ex-girlfriend.
“And to have wasted the last six years?” I try to appeal to his logical side, not that he’d ever betray me. But his patience is growing thin, as much as mine.
Nico shrugs. “You never tried with anyone else.”
My thumb rubs over the small ridges on the butterfly’s wings. “I never wanted anyone else.”
Even if a lingering doubt circles my mind, I can’t see past her.
If she can lie about her name, what else is she lying about?
It’s not like I don’t see his point, but he doesn’t know her like I do.
No one does, not even herself. Gianna has ideas of what she thinks she believes. I just have to show her the truth.
With a sigh, he drops it, focusing on the road as we head to Jersey.
It’s the same old fight we’ve had since Anna Gianna ziptied me to her dorm bed and disappeared from my life.
At the time I found it amusing, knowing I was going to smack her little ass red once I got free.
But passing days turned into weeks, turned into months, and then years.
It was like she was a ghost. I’d believe she was a figment of my imagination if I didn’t have the photos and videos to prove me wrong.
“Plus, look at the leverage we have over the Italians if it all goes to plan,” I say.
Months ago, we traded information with the Irish that the Italians were disrupting their deliveries.
In exchange, they helped us find Gianna and her brother Matt, who we discovered was the real mastermind of hiding her, not the Famiglia as I thought.
When we looked a little closer into Gianna’s brother, it unraveled more ties of Arthur, Chicago’s Underboss, to a group of Italians.
I assume ones that are not working with Luca, the Famiglia’s Underboss.
The only thing we can’t determine is if Luca’s second is at the heart of it all.
Finding Gio visiting Jersey during the time Matt visits is a hell of a coincidence.
Nico glances at me, still not assured. “Or Gio could not care.” He would know better than most. Nico has been my second in command since we were twelve and I had just moved to Chicago with my father.
We’ve been inseparable since, plotting and planning for the future as a team, a best friend turned brother.
I may not care about Chicago as much as Nico, but Arthur’s disrespect to Christian, the boss of the Outfit, and to his enforcer, my father, will not go unpunished.
I shrug. “There’s only one reason Gio would be searching for his half-siblings. He doesn’t want them to have a claim to his throne.”
“Second in command isn’t much of a throne,” Nico counters. Gio Moretti may become Luca’s Capo one day, and he wouldn’t want any of his father’s bastards jeopardizing that spot.
My lips quirk. “No it’s not. I much prefer being the hand that instills fear.”
Our eyes meet as we think about my father and his unique ways to get the people in the Outfit in line.
Nico clears his throat and focuses back on the road before asking his next question. “Have you thought about what you’ll do if she’s truly moved on and doesn’t want you?”
I ignore the ache in my chest caused by his words and roll my eyes. “She hasn’t.”
He raises his eyebrows, not looking at me. “You’re so sure?”
My mind flashes through the nights we spent together and the way she fit so seamlessly into my life, or at least the parts I’d shown her.
The way we fit together so perfectly as if we were made for each other.
The way her little bottom lip would pout if I didn’t spend the night with her.
Hell, we practically lived together those years in college.
I run a hand through my ashy blond hair, ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach. “She didn’t move on.”
Nico doesn’t look convinced and maybe I’m saying the words to convince myself, but deep in my heart, I know it to be true. If I haven’t moved on, neither has she. We’re as fated as anyone can be.
He doesn’t pester me with any more questions as we head to the hotel that the Irish directed us to. I hope I won't have to remain in New Jersey or Manhattan for long. I prefer to stay in Chicago as much as possible when I’m in the States.
When we park and get out, I keep my face tilted down as we enter through a back entrance and take a service elevator to a closed-off penthouse floor.
Nico finds the key and ushers us back into the room.
I blow out a breath. Now comes the worst part: waiting.
It amuses me endlessly how glamorous some people imagine our life to be, but most of the time, it’s just a lot of waiting.
I unbutton my jacket and settle into a chair as Nico makes us a drink before sitting across from me.
My hand goes back to the tiny butterfly in my pocket, and I can’t comprehend how close I am to having her again.
Nico pulls out his laptop and starts working quietly while I ignore the buzzing of my phone, knowing the Irish wouldn’t be trying to contact me at this time and everything else is of no importance.
I don’t keep track of how much time passes before Cillian and Cormac slip into the room, breathing hard and covered in blood.
It looks more ghastly on Cillian, the reddish-brown harsh on his pale skin.
The sides of his head are shaved to expose tattooed skin.
As a Black man with a deep copper coloring, the blood is barely visible on Cormac, but his dark eyes hold adrenaline I’ve only ever seen after killing another.
My hand stills halfway to my mouth, taking in their condition and wondering if I made a mistake meeting the Irish without more security.
Nico stands at once, hand on his gun. “What the fuck?”
Cillian gives him a cheshire grin. “Blood make you nervous?”
“You make me nervous, you fucking psychopath. I’ve heard the rumors,” Nico says, sitting back down slowly.
Cillian and Cormac are the reapers of the Daghda brotherhood, a mercenary group within the Irish Mafia.
If there’s anyone the Irish need to make disappear, it happens at the hands of these two.
Cormac’s gaze falls on me and I raise an eyebrow while asking, “Run into some kind of problem?”
He shrugs, glancing back at Cillian as if just realizing how they appear. “We had to take care of something beforehand. Mind if we shower?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. I’d prefer to have this discussion without the taint of death in the room. There’s an ensuite in both rooms. Take your pick.”
Even though I’m not an official Made Man of the Outfit, I can’t help but take offense a little that Rian O’Callaghan didn’t meet me directly.
Truthfully though, I don’t blame him considering his wife gave birth to their first child not long ago, but sending the two deadliest of the Daghda brotherhood is certainly a choice.
Downing the rest of my drink, I look back at Nico, gauging how he feels about it. Judging by his frown, he doesn’t like it. He finds me watching him and he swallows. “Are you kidnapping her? Have the plans changed?”
I shake my head. “No, they’re just getting me past Luca’s cameras so I can remain in Manhattan unseen until I make my first move.”
His eyes drift down to the blood that has dripped onto the floor. “Do you ever regret not swearing in?”
I’m surprised by the question. Out of all of the things I expected to come from his mouth, that wasn’t one of them.
“I’m not sure,” I answer him honestly. Being my father’s heir without loyalty to the Outfit has granted me a lot of freedom while closing plenty of doors.
“I often wonder if we would even be alive,” Nico says.
An amused smile pulls at my lips and my hand goes to my pocket, rolling the butterfly between my fingers again. “We wouldn’t have attended college, that’s for sure.”
“And you wouldn’t have met Anna.”
It seems impossible to imagine a life where I didn’t know her. I let out a weary sigh. “Technically Anna doesn’t exist. Her name is Gianna.”
Nico shrugs and then hesitantly adds,“I doubt the girl faked her entire personality.”
I know he’s reluctant to admit that, and unfortunately we won’t know for sure until I see her. The deadly duo walk back in before I can respond, tossing a bag toward the door, which I assume is full of bloodied clothes they need to get rid of.
Cillian slouches into the chair across from me while Cormac leans against the wall with crossed arms.
“Declan says he only needs about two hours' notice before you plan to head into the city,” Cillian says, peering longingly at my glass of whiskey.
Sliding the glass closer to him, Nico tops it off and Cillian grins, shooting it back in one gulp.
“It’s so nice to have conversations with men who just get it, you know? The welcome burn after a fresh kill,” he continues with a taunting grin.
I pick at a dust speck on my sleeve and shrug. “I prefer a single shot straight between the eyes. Quick, clean, and I move on with my day.”
Cillian frowns. “From The Butcher’s son? That’s surprising.”
My teeth clench at the nickname, and I force the irritation down as Nico clears his throat.
“Let’s not linger more than necessary. You have a number for the call?”
Cormac stands taller and tosses a burner phone on the table. “It’s the only one programmed.”
Nico grabs it and confirms what he said with a nod.
“That it then?” I say, hoping to get them out of the room sooner rather than later. The Irish and I have a cordial relationship, but their quick tempers can burn bridges faster than you can jump off them.
Cillian sighs. “Actually, there’s one more thing. Remember the girl we asked you to get into that escort company?”
“Hmm. I passed her information along, but I never met her,” I say, my eyebrows dipping in confusion.
He nods. “Yeah, I know, but no one has heard from her in months. We saw a single photo of her on Luca’s arm, but she hasn’t been able to communicate with us…” He trails off, his jaw tightening as he swallows roughly.
Nico glances between him and Cormac. “You want us to see if we can make contact?”
Cormac shifts on his feet, his gaze not straying from a tense Cillian. “Yes. Rian expressed that we’d be in your debt… if you can.”
I’m stunned, considering this last job was supposed to make us even in our continual back and forth. “I’ll see what I can do.”
They both grunt out a “thanks” before grabbing their bag and slipping out of the room without further discussion. Nico watches them warily until the door clicks shut.
“You think it’s wise? Getting involved in whatever they’re doing with Luca?”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Probably not, but I’ll do anything to fuck with Luca.”