Chapter 3
N othing good comes from phone calls after midnight, let alone a call from the head of the Irish Mafia at nearly two in the morning. When that involves Jonathan, who’s notorious for keeping his cool regardless of the situation, nearly shouting down the phone - I’m immediately on red alert.
“Owen, get your ass up here immediately, and for the love of God, put a shirt on. It’s a family matter.”
Before I can formulate a sentence, he hangs up on me. The mention of “family matter” puzzles me since Jonathan has no family—unless he counts mine, given my dad is his underboss and they’re practically brothers. But if it were about my dad, surely he’d have just said so.
Confused, I pull on a clean T-shirt and joggers, check the safety on my gun, and grab my wallet, phone and keys. I rush down the hall to the private lift that’ll take me to his penthouse. I was having a fanfuckingtastic dream about the hottest girl I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing finally letting me worship her the way she deserves before he woke me so it takes me a second to process the fact that the drop-dead gorgeous blonde sitting on his sofa is none other than Cora Montgomery.
The woman who has been the star in every dream and fantasy I’ve had since I first saw her ten years ago .
The woman I swore I’d never drag into this fucked-up world that is my life.
The last time I saw her, she was damn near catatonic, thanks to her grief, but even then, I thought she was the most breathtaking thing I’d ever seen. I was so tempted to scrap my plan to protect her, finding the idea of disappearing from her life when she needed stability and comfort the most almost unimaginable. Yet, the looming threat of an all-out war from the clan was too loud to ignore.
So I fell back into the shadows, working my way up the ladder from runner to soldier to enforcer. One day, I’ll take over Dad’s role as underboss, but for now, working as an enforcer and hacking shit for Jonathan on the side is enough. Meanwhile, I stalked her social media accounts and soaked up any titbits of information Abigail would share with me. I even bought her mum’s house via an anonymous bid so that one day, it would be there for her, untouched, exactly as her Mum left it.
Last I heard, she was working her sweet ass off as a bartender, finally single.
“Cora?” I call out, pausing beside the sofa. Noticing the cut on her forehead, I quickly add, “What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to kick some ass?” I try to lighten the mood with a joke as I sit beside her.
“What are you doing here?” Fuck, her smile could light up the world. Having it aimed at me after not seeing her since we left school nearly five years ago feels like Christmas came early. So much has changed, but my feelings haven’t, and I doubt they ever will. Not that I want them to.
“That’s why I called you up here,” Jonathan says, tilting his head for me to join him in his office. With one last look of shared confusion, I reluctantly leave Cora to join him.
“I’ve had the Finlay brothers watching over her for the last few months after Angus made it clear at the last Table meeting he wouldn’t listen to reason. I need you to work with the brothers to find out who attacked her tonight. By any means necessary. I also need you to spread the word that she’s my daughter and is to be treated as such. If anyone so much as looks at her the wrong way, I’ll be dealing with them. Personally .”
“Daughter?” The man has been like an uncle to me; he’s been there for every holiday since I was born, and yet I never heard so much as a whisper that he had a child out there.
“If you think your privileged position gives you the right to that story before her, then you’re sorely mistaken. Yes, daughter. Now get to work.” With that, he leaves me standing there, my jaw nearly hitting the floor, my mind racing with a million thoughts. As much as I want to chase after him and demand answers, I don’t for two reasons. First, I know better than to challenge him directly. Second, someone needs to track down and deal with the bastard who dared hurt my Cora. Immediately.
I crack my knuckles before walking over to the computer in his office. I need to call one of the Finlay brothers to get information to make this a tad easier.
“What’s up, Owen?” Aidan picks up on the second ring. That, coupled with the casualness of his tone, makes me grind my teeth.
“ What’s up? You punks let Cora get attacked while on guard duty. Mind explaining that to me? Or how about you give me a rundown of what happened and where, so I can find the fucker who did this.”
“Take a breath, Owen. She’s fine. Barely a bump or two, and she was on her own with her attacker for a few seconds before Cole, the speedy fucker that he is, got from the car down the alley. It was in Shaftesbury Avenue, near O’Neill’s. The closest shop was a cafe named Olivias. Also, Liam is suspicious that someone’s been tailing us tail her, but we haven’t been able to get a clean visual on any plates.” When Jonathan finds out, he’s going to lose his shit.
“What kind of bodyguards are you shitheads if someone else is following her and you don’t even know !” I yell, before hanging up on him.
I try to remind myself that Jonathan vetted them. That they are our most trusted, high-ranking soldiers. Cole, at eighteen, is our youngest member, but even he passed everything Jonathan’s thrown at him with flying colours, and I helped train the fucker.
They are perfectly capable of this job, they have to be , there is no way he’d risk her safety. But seeing she was so close to being seriously hurt makes me want to murder dead things.
Several deep breaths later, I re-focus on the screen and load up the CCTV footage from the cafe and a few other businesses on or near Shaftesbury Avenue to see what went down, but unfortunately, her attacker was smart enough to wear all black.
Unfortunately for him , I follow his path on the cameras as he runs away, and two streets away, he makes a crucial mistake. As he pulls off his balaclava, his hoodie and shirt lift just enough for me to catch a glimpse of something crucial when I zoom in. On his right side, just above his hip, is a blurry but still identifiable Celtic cross tattoo. The exact design that I’ve only ever seen on the Clan.
It’s a rite of passage for them, similar to how all Four Points members get a four-leaf clover tattooed on them once they’re initiated. If the Scottish wanted a war, then they’re fucking getting one.
If not from Jonathan, then from me.
Because there is no world where someone touches my Cora and lives to tell the tale.
Fuck that bullshit.