I kicked aside a corpse and waded through the overturned chairs toward Oisin.
The old man watched me with tired eyes, and he tilted his chin up in my direction as I approached. Cassie’s dad knelt with his hands behind his head, as if that would do him any good.
“So it’s come to this then,” Oisin rasped. “Killing a bunch of people just to get to me. Crude.”
“Effective.” I raised my gun and aimed at Oisin’s head. “A mirror of what you did to my father.”
“Ah, except in that case, only your father died. And here, I see several enormous problems pooling blood. You caught me, but at what cost?”
“Everything,” I whispered.
This was the moment I waited for.
Finally, Oisin was mine.
The wreckage of the world lay at my feet, and once this night was through, the real war would begin. There was no way I’d walk from this unscathed.
I’d torn apart the underworld, all to get what I wanted, and we’d all deal with the fallout.
But it was finished.
Everything else, that was an afterthought. I could deal with it. I’d pay the price, grovel if I had to, give up territory and power and money.
I’d survive, and Oisin wouldn’t.
“Where do you go from here?” Oisin asked. “You’re so much like your old man. Do you know why I killed him?”
I sucked in a breath. I hated being compared to that bastard. “He was pushing your people aside. You thought I’d be an easier target.”
“I killed him because he was a ruthless fuck. He was dangerous and someone had to make sure he couldn’t keep murdering to get what he wanted. I thought you might be a better, more able leader, but I was wrong. You’re just as cold as he was and I’m afraid I’ve created a monster.”
I shoved the still-hot gun against Oisin’s skull. He clenched his jaw and pulled back, eyes wide with fear.
“You don’t know me at all,” I said, leaning down into the old man’s face. “My father didn’t care about anything except himself.”
“And you do?” Oisin seemed genuinely curious.
“For a very long time, I didn’t. I thought about power and death and nothing else.” I glanced at Eamon, then back to Oisin. “Until I met my wife.”
“Ah, interesting. So you do care about the girl.”
“I love her. And when this is over, I’m going to put the world back together, because she deserves it.”
“I wish you luck.”
I pulled the trigger. Oisin’s blood and brains splattered out against his chair.
And it was done.
Finally, after all this—
I got my revenge. A rush of excitement rolled through my veins. I felt elated, dizzy, incredible—but it quickly dissipated, leaving me alone, deflated, and angry.
Was this all I worked for?
One dead old man that was halfway there without my help and a massacre that I’d pay for with my own blood.
I earned this kill. I orchestrated this, brought in my witnesses, made my move.
I succeeded. I dominated my foes.
So why didn’t I feel better?
I looked back and saw Cassie running toward me.
40
Cassie
Oisin slumped back, dead and gone.
I ran out from behind the altar. “Cassie!” Erick called out, but I ignored him.
Roman turned. His gun hung loosely in his hand. His eyes were fierce and burned at me like he wanted to stride across the room and take me then and there. I reached his side and grbbeda his free hand between both of mine, squeezing the fingers.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded once. “I think so.”
I chewed on my lip. “You did it.”
“I did. Oisin’s dead.”
“Does it fix anything?”
He let out a long breath. “No, it doesn’t.” Then he turned to my father and raised the gun.
“Wait.” I pushed his arm back down.
My father stared at me with utter fear in his expression. I’d never seen him look like that before and I wanted to savor it, but something in those pathetic eyes twisted a knife in my guts.
He was a vain, weak, selfish, power-hungry piece of garbage—
But after what happened here, we were going to need allies.
I stepped up to my dad and looked down at him.
“Do you want to stay alive?”
He nodded. “Yes. I do.”
“Will you swear loyalty to Roman?”
His eyes darted over to my husband. “Yes. I will.”
“Can you take control of the MacKenna family?”
“I believe so.” He hesitated, mentally calculating. “With Roman’s backing.”
I turned to Roman. He gazed at me with a curious expression—part rapture, part obsession. “What do you think?” I asked.
“I think he’d be useful. But are you sure? I can end him here and now. We don’t need him.”
“I’m sure.” I studied my father. He wasn’t the titan I remembered, not even close. He was diminished and weakened and broken—like I used to be. “You won’t forget this. You’re alive because I say you’re alive. But the second you’re not useful anymore, I’ll change my mind. Do you understand?”