Two weeks later
It’s just the two of us in Declan’s office, sitting on opposite sides of his desk with whiskeys in our hands.
It’s the night of his first day back from his honeymoon in Greece. He’s tan and relaxed, leaning back in his chair in a white dress shirt and black slacks, looking like what he is.
A man who has everything he’s ever wanted.
If I looked in a mirror, what I’d see would be the opposite of that.
He doesn’t bother with small talk. Neither of us has ever been good at it. He simply opens with, “I’m promoting you to second-in-command.”
When he sees my shocked expression, he says, “Did you think I’d fire you?”
“For ruining your wedding? Aye.”
“Don’t be dramatic. You didn’t ruin anything. All you did was put on a wee show.”
“Is that your wife’s attitude, too?”
His expression sours. “It would be grand if anyone around here would pretend it’s my opinion that matters for once.”
I glance down at the glass in my hand. I’m gripping it so tightly, my knuckles are white.
I haven’t been able to get the night of the wedding out of my mind. It plays on a loop inside my head, taunting me.
That bloody Russian bastard. I should’ve shot him in the bathroom when I had the chance.
Now he’s family. Fucking family.
What a nightmare.
Through clenched teeth, I say, “They’ve gone back to Russia?”
He hesitates. “Aye. And you’d be well advised to forget all about it.”
An impossibility, but I bite my tongue.
“Spider. Look at me.”
I glance up.
He says, “You’re a good man. Loyal and brave. The situation is less than ideal, but it’s what we’ve got to deal with.”
“How can you be so calm about this? He wanted to kill you!”
“Aye. Can’t really blame him though, can I? If he killed my brother, I’d want to kill him, too.”
I say bitterly, “How very magnanimous.”
“Get your head back on business, mate. I need you focused. We’ve got a bloody shit show to deal with. Between Kage and the Italians alone, I’ll lose my ever-loving mind.”
“What’s going on with Kage? Considering he attended your wedding, I assumed you two had made an accord.”
He rises and walks to the window, folding his arms over his chest and staring out into the evening sky. “I owe him a marker. He called it in.”
I frown in confusion. “He called in a marker for an invitation to your wedding?”
Declan’s laugh is dark. “No, that was simply politics.”
I make a sound of understanding. “Your wife and his.”
“Aye.”
“So what does he want for the marker?”
“For me to kill one of his men.”
Brutal, but it doesn’t surprise me. The Russians are animals. They’d eat their own young if they were hungry enough. “For?”
“Disloyalty.”
“Why doesn’t he kill the lad himself?”
“Because it’s a man I promised my wife I would never harm.” He turns and gazes at me. “Which makes it excellent sport for Kage.”
When I say, “Stavros,” Declan nods.
“Oy. If Sloane finds out…”
“I’ll lose my balls. I have to admit, the son of a bitch knows how to play dirty.”
“What will you do?”
He turns to the window again. A faint smile lifts the corners of his mouth. “What I always do when the only two options are shite. Create a third.”
He doesn’t explain that, and I don’t ask. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.
“What’s going on with the Italians?”
He sighs heavily, passing a hand over his face. “They’re bloody mad, that lot. Do you know they still have arranged marriages?”
“They can’t want you to marry one of their lasses now!”
“No, not me, obviously. But Caruso’s got it in his head to marry his daughter into the Mob.”
Gianni Caruso is the head of one of the Five Families. Since the capo of the Cosa Nostra was killed a while back, the Sicilians have been jockeying each other for position. No one has come out on top yet.
“Why us?”
He says drily, “Because we’re so handsome and charming.”
“Or because we have something they want.”
“Exactly.”
“Do they have anything we want?”
“Aye. Territory. Distribution. Trade routes. Cash. We had a tentative accord when Diego was in charge, but it dissolved when his memory did. But it hardly matters, considering I don’t have any male family members to sell into slavery.”
My mind starts to turn. I say slowly, “What if you did?”
Declan looks at me sharply.
“Second-in-command is about as close to a son or brother as you have.”
When he understands what I’m suggesting, he says flatly, “You’ve lost your bloody mind.”
“You said you wanted me focused. Nothing like new pussy to get your mind off the old.”
He lifts his brows. “Now you’re scaring me. Also, watch your mouth, mate. Riley’s my sister-in-law.”
“Do you have a picture of Caruso’s daughter?”
“Spider! Knock it off!”
I down the rest of my whiskey, set the glass on his desk, and stand. “Show me her picture.”
“You can’t be bloody serious!”
“Look at my face. Does it look serious to you?”
“This isn’t like adopting a puppy. You can’t take it back if it doesn’t work out. This is a bloody lifelong commitment we’re talking about!”
“You just made one. Why can’t I?”
He roars, “Because you’re not in love!”
“This wouldn’t be about love. It would be about business. And frankly—I mean this with no disrespect to you or your wife—from what I can tell, a business arrangement with no feelings involved would be a helluva lot easier.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Just show me a picture of the lass.”
He walks over to his desk, flattens his hands on the top, and leans over it, glaring at me.
“You don’t understand. You could never walk away. If she gets fat or grows warts or has the laugh of a hyena, you’d be tied to her for the rest of your life. If she slept with every bloody man she saw, you’d be tied to her. Forever! Her family would kill you if you tried to leave. And I couldn’t stop it, because you’d have agreed to it beforehand!”
I hold his infuriated gaze and say calmly, “Just show me a bloody picture. If the lass is fat and has warts, I won’t mention it again.”
He stares at me for a few moments longer, then curses and drops into his chair. Muttering oaths under his breath, he opens his laptop, clicks around for a while, then sits back and silently stares at the screen.
“So? Warts?”
He looks at me then back at the screen. “No warts.”
“Fat?”
“Not exactly.” He turns the laptop so the screen is facing me.
I’m looking at a picture of a young woman with long dark hair, dark eyes, and a sweet, heart-shaped face. She looks all of twenty and innocent as a doe.
I say gruffly, “Not exactly is right.”
Declan groans. “Jesus Christ.”
“Set it up.”
“You’re fucking insane.”
“Set it up, boss. Talk to Caruso. See if he’ll bite.”
I turn and walk toward the door, listening to Declan piss and moan behind me but knowing he’ll consider it once I’m gone.
Kings have to move the pawns at their disposal. It’s just what kings do.
As for the pawns, well, they might not have a king’s power, but they can still make themselves useful.
And, if given the right opportunity, they can have a little fun while they’re at it.
Being the good guy hasn’t gotten me anything so far except heartache.
It’s time to be bad and break something innocent.
