Chapter 13 #2
“Jesus Christ, is your pussy gold plated or some shit?” the Coyote murmurs in my ear, and I have to resist the urge to shove him the hell away from me.
“Either the institution stands, or it doesn’t,” I say, and tension snaps through the table. The group behind us shifts on their feet, preparing to dive into the fight that we’re edging our way closer to.
“The second thing, Wolf?” the Boar asks, clearly wanting to steer the conversation away from bloodshed and war within our own ranks.
I bend and retrieve the velvet bags I have stuffed in the tongue of one of my combat boots. I stand to place the pile in the center of the table. Ten bags, ten diamonds.
“You all know what I’m asking for.”
The table all stare at the diamonds with ravenous hunger and I nod.
“Good. Now we can move on.”
I’m forced to sit through an hour’s worth of arguing about the skin trade and no resolution is found, just as I suspected.
The Crow refuses to back down and at one point I think the Jackal starts to plan exactly how he’s going to dismember him when the chance arises.
Again, it works in my favor because the rest of the table sees it too.
The Jackal is unstable.
His time of being harmonious among us is counting down.
When the Jackal finally calls the meeting over no one stands to leave. He flicks his wrist at one of his men and the elevator starts up. The Twelve all slowly collect their diamonds and stash them away as we wait.
I take a deep breath.
This part is going to be immensely satisfying, but it’s also the part I’m most worried about Harley seeing. I have thirty seconds of regret for not warning him, for not wanting him to argue with me about the price of his safety, before Liam and Domhnall O’Cronin walk into the meeting room.
Neither of them notice Harley amongst the group of men, they both only have eyes for me as I stand. I’m so glad Illi got me the jacket as I place my palms on the table in front of me and lean forward to address the fucking scumbag mobsters.
“Thank you for joining us, Liam,” I say in a dark tone, hatred and disgust clearly present. Domhnall twitches at my complete dismissal of him and I mentally high-five myself for it.
Liam’s lip curls. “Not like we had much fuckin’ choice, ey? What’s all this about? You’ve already stolen my heir, what more could you want from me?”
I ignore the disrespect he’s showing me and smirk at him.
“Oh, I didn’t steal him. He sought me out.
He decided that he wanted real loyalty, not the bullshit your family dishes out.
But that’s all beside the point. I’ve brought you here to inform you that your family is done.
The Twelve are finished with the lot of you.
You’ll need to pack up and find a new state to live in.
I hear Alabama is nice this time of year, try running your ‘empire’ there. ”
Liam’s face grows slack as he stares at me, and then his eyes frantically dart around the table at the others. When no one speaks up to correct me, his face slowly turns purple.
“Our family has lived and worked here for generations, you can’t just fuckin’ freeze us out!”
Again, no one moves or speaks, exactly as I’ve instructed. I’m the one with power over the O’Cronin family now. My smirk only gets wider.
“I could be persuaded to let you stay. Maybe even keep your businesses running with us.”
Domhnall finally spots Harley and he freezes, his body locking up completely at the sight of his hulking, enraged, practically-naked nephew standing beside the Butcher, who I’m sure looks positively psychotic with the tats, the grin, and arsenal of weapons strapped to him.
Both of them clad in my color; both of them belonging to me.
Liam rolls his shoulders back, contempt deepening the curl in his lip. “What do I have to do to persuade you? If you want the boy that much then fuckin’ keep him. If he’s sold himself to you then he’s as weak as his fuckin’ da.”
Fuck.
I hear Harley’s first step and my breath catches in my throat.
Then silence, thank fuck. I lean forward again and stare Liam straight in the eye, unblinking.
“I want my money. I want the inheritance your grandson is due that you’re hiding from him. I want every cent of it, transferred to my accounts, with interest. I’m guessing it’s been making you a nice return? Well, that money is mine.”
Domhnall has lost the ability to school his features, and he’s openly glaring at me now. I arch an eyebrow at him and Illi takes a step forward. “Watch yourself, mobster. Only a stupid man would provoke the Wolf and I’m fucking itching to split you open for her.”
I sit back down, smoothing my hands down the jacket as if it’s a silk gown and I’m Avery Beaumont, all classy and shit.
“I thought about buying a judge to retrieve the money. Easy, quick, simple. But I wanted the satisfaction of watching you realize that your little power moves didn’t work.
That money is mine and you’re going to hand it over to me.
If you don’t, I will consider your refusal a declaration of war.
I’ll destroy every last O’Cronin in the state. ”
Liam does one last sweep of the table and then gives me a look that would boil the blood of a lesser man.
Good thing I’m neither a man, nor less than the deadly, calm Wolf.
I nod at him like he’s agreed with me. “If it’s not in my account by Friday, I’ll be finding you, Liam.
I’ll be coming for you all. Maybe I’ll start with your new heir, what’s his name again?
Aodhan? Maybe I’ll come see if he wants to join me as well. I’ll bring Illi to help sway him.”
Domhnall blanches at his son’s name, and I smirk. Hook, line, and sinker; they know they’re fucked.
Liam spits out from his clenched teeth, “Deal.”
The meeting room empties soon after the mobsters storm out. Illi and Harley step up immediately to join me and I avoid looking Harley in the eye. I don’t want to see his reaction to my confrontation with his family while the Jackal is staring holes into us from the other side of the table.
The Crow takes his time getting up, and I know he’s pushing every damn one of the Jackal’s buttons he can when he gestures to the elevator and says, “Ladies first. I look forward to seeing you at the next meeting, Wolf.”
I incline my head at him respectfully, and when I turn around to face Harley, he makes eye contact with the Jackal over my shoulder.
I grab his hand gently, both to warn him and to tell him I’m fine, and he squeezes mine back.
Illi snorts and crosses his arms next to him, obviously pissed off at the Jackal’s actions and ready to throw down with him for Harley in a second.
I’m so relieved they’ve found some sort of truce that I don’t notice what the fuck Harley is doing as he maintains eye contact and—
And, fuck me with a cactus, he unzips the jacket, pushing it off my shoulders while running his hands all over me with such fucking possession my knees threaten to give out.
I look up to find him smirking at the Jackal and then he kisses me like he’s trying to fuck my mouth, my face cradled in his big hands.
Fuuuuuuuck.
Illi cackles and nudges Harley with an elbow. “Grab your girl. I need a drink and a fucking smoke after that. Let’s go find the rest of our little motley crew.”
Harley breaks away from my lips with another smirk, this one at me, then he just grabs my ass and hauls me into his arms, walking us over to the elevator.
“Did you just spend ten fucking diamonds on me?” he mutters against my neck, and of course that’s his priority, even with the psycho behind us making eye contact with me.
There’s nothing but bloodshed and slaughter in the Jackal’s eyes but I hold them, steady and calm.
Harley steps into the cage and the door shuts.
“Did you just taunt the Jackal about being mine?” I retort, still a little gobsmacked at the gall of this guy.
“Fuck yes, I did. Fuck him, babe, you’ve just told them all about what he’s doing. Besides, if he doesn’t let you go, we’ll just get the Butcher to throw a meat cleaver at his head. I’m sure he’d love that.”
Illi cackles and runs a finger down said cleaver lovingly.
I laugh and wriggle out of Harley’s arms to stand between them.
I feel lighter, like I’ve taken the last step away from the Jackal and now I’m standing on my own two feet.
It’s fucking terrifying to feel so alone without his protection, and for a second it knocks the breath out of my lungs.
Then Illi cracks some jokes and Harley grunts out a chuckle at them, and I remember the family I’m carefully building is worth the risk.
Illi leads the way back over to the bar area where we find a fucking wasted Blaise, Avery holding a drink and staring down at her phone with a very inebriated look of her own, and a very antsy, and sober, Ash.
When I point to Blaise with an eyebrow lift, Ash rolls his eyes and points toward the other end of the bar, where there’s a growing crowd of salivating Mounty girls, watching him like they want to eat him alive.
Illi laughs when he sees them and wiggles his fingers at them, easily dispersing the crowd with one action.
I’m too hyped up to drink, but I need something to take the edge of my adrenaline off.
Ash watches me closely, then tugs on my hand and tilts his head toward the dance floor.
Harley nods at him for me, and I turn to gesture to Illi to get him to watch Blaise and Avery.
Avery smirks at me with a little evil grin and lifts her cocktail at me in a salute.
Okay, so getting liquor into Avery is key to getting away with the guys turning me into the meat in a hot guy sandwich without a peep. Good to know.
As we move through the crowd, Harley presses me into Ash’s back. The second story is safer, but still teeming with sweaty, intoxicated, writhing Mounties, and without the black lights touching my skin none of them know exactly who it is walking amongst them.