Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
***
The spent casing rolls against the marred wood of my old desk, twisting this way and that. No matter how much I stare at it, I can’t wrap my head around it. It needs to be brought to Niall’s attention when I meet him next.
He’s not going to like it. With everything else going on right now, this is the last thing he’ll want to contend with. With the territories as unstable as they are, this alliance with the Russians means everything. There is power in numbers if only for show. The problem with numbers though, is always questioning loyalties. We don’t have the same business practices. But evolving to the times means overlooking such things. They have the Ghost, and we need him, bastard that he is.
These are all things I’m well aware of. I won’t stand to let my grand-da’s death go unpunished. But going to war right now isn’t an option. With the Armenians flocking to the East to get themselves a piece of the pie, all of the factions are up in arms.
The door to my office swings open and Ronan stalks inside. He arches a brow when he spots the bullet on my desk, and I snatch it up and place it in my pocket.
“Right, lad?” I ask.
He tosses a file onto my desk with a scowl.
“Detective James sends his regards.”
The urge to open the file straight away is strong. I smother it down. Ronan’s hovering over me like a bloody prison guard and I could do with a bit of privacy for this.
“What the feck’re ye doing, Crow?”
I reach for my glass of Jameson and take a drink, eyeing him over the rim. His intentions are good. They always are. If there’s a lad I trust in this world without a scrap of doubt, it’s Ronan Fitzpatrick. He followed me here at sixteen, earning his way into the syndicate on his own accord. He’s fought and killed and done anything I’ve ever asked of him. We’re as close to brothers as two men can be.
For this reason alone, I answer his question.
“I’m giving her a job.”
“I don’t trust her,” Ronan says.
“You don’t have to.”
He grunts his disapproval at the same time another knock sounds on the door. This office may as well be a bleeding department store.
“Come in,” I call out.
Mandy pokes her head in and smiles.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Aye, ye are.” Ronan can barely contain his distaste for this woman.
“Nah.” I grin back at him. “What do ye need Mandy?”
Ronan stalks out of the room, and the guilt ebbs away as he leaves. I don’t like keeping things from him, but it’s for his own protection. The less he knows about this, the better. When I turn my attention back to Mandy, the relief is short lived.
“So, what is the calamity this time?” I clip out.
She flinches from the coldness of my voice and then pouts her lips.
“Why does Sasha get more sets than I do? She’s on the schedule…”
“Ye know better than to come to me with this shite,” I cut her off.
Undeterred, she walks around my desk and sits on it, arching her back in an effort to draw my attention to her tits. It might have worked on me before, but I’ll never touch her again.
“You look tense.” Her voice is soft in a way I’m sure she means to be seductive. “I can fix that, Lachlan.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I remark. “Besides, aren’t there any willing pricks out there for you to have a go with tonight?”
She flips her hair over her shoulder and flattens her lips.
“They can’t do it like you can.”
“Yeah?” I grin up at her, playing the game she wants.
She nods and flashes a shy smile. I thought those were real once too.
“Yeah, Lachlan. You know it’s true.”
“Well you would know.” I finish off my whiskey and spin the glass around my finger. “Ye’ve had a ride with the whole lot of them.”
Her brown eyes harden and I look away. Should’ve sacked her a long time ago. But since Sean is so fond of her, I keep her around. A bitter reminder of what happens when you trust a female. If I were to send her packing now, it would only open him up to other distractions. Distractions like Mackenzie. The glass in my fist starts to splinter when I realize I’m crushing it in my grip.
“You act like you can’t even stand to look at me,” Mandy says.
There are tears in her eyes now as false as everything else about her. Loyalty is the only thing that’s true in this life, and if your woman isn’t loyal, there’s no place for her in your bed.
“Have ye only just figured this out?” I ask her flatly.
She reaches out to touch my face and I shove her hand away. “Fuck on out of my office and go to work.”
She snarls under her breath but does as I ask. When the door closes behind her, I pour another round of whiskey.
Fuck her.
Fuck all women, really. Can’t trust them, or anyone for that matter it seems. Even our own goddamn alliance. The thought of marrying a girl I don’t know does my head in. I don’t fancy the idea at all. I’ve seen Viktor’s daughters a time or two, maybe. But I can’t recall them for shite. And no matter which one I choose, she’ll be guaranteed to hate me.
I scrub my hands over my face and my eyes move back to the file in front of me. An unfamiliar twinge springs up in my chest thinking about what’s inside. It could be anxiety, paranoia, suspicion… any number of those things. But it doesn’t feel like it.
With a quick flip, I’m staring at a photo of the blue-eyed girl that’s currently doing my head in. Black hair, pale skin… the song that comes to mind was written just for her. She really is fucking righteous. Just like Rory said. I don’t want him talking about her like that.