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It’s six AM when I get up, feeling tired and sluggish. I run through my morning routine, preparing myself for the day ahead.

Nine months and no more attacks from the Italians. All of my father's men now report to me, looking toward the youngest O’Connor son to lead the family. The truth is, I never wanted this, and they can see it written on my face.

Why would I want it after three men in my family have already been killed for this position?

I had to rebuild our cocaine distribution first. We were fucked when half our shipment was stolen. Cocaine costs money and that money had to be paid back to the Columbians whether we had the product or not. That loss nearly killed me, but I don’t go down too easily. After nine months and hard work, we’re back on track.

I reserve mourning for the evenings, once I’m alone in my bed. If I’m lucky I’ll fall asleep before I can really think about it. I try to fill my days with running around the city, meeting men, conducting business. And if that’s not enough I’ll spend an hour or two at the gym until my muscles ache. If I’m worn out enough, sleep will come easily. I need all the help I can get lately.

Gemma comes to my mind frequently, but I push the thoughts away. I can’t think about the pretty dark haired girl right now. I have to pull my family and my business from ruin.

Ruin that was brought on by her family.

I can’t let my mind wander down this path of thought for too long, or else I’ll get angry. My anger for her never lasts long though, I wish it did. I wish I could hate her, but at the end of the day, I just don’t.

I brought this on myself, I know that love doesn’t last. That love is just a tactic for people to manipulate you, and damn did she get me good.

Still, I don’t hate her.

I could never hate her.

I dress myself in soft denim and a white v-neck, throwing a black bomber jacket and boots on before leaving the house. Mom is still holed up in her bedroom and Chay is fiddling in the kitchen when I leave.

I have to run my businesses. The bar, the casino, and now the illegal side. I hate working out of the casino, instead I promoted another man, Patrick, and hired a new manager to run most of the legal side. The combination has served me well.

I much prefer to be tucked away in my shitty office atop my bar. It smells like stale smoke and whiskey, just the way I like it.

I slump into my seat when I get there, Sean follows me in and takes the seat across from me. It’s weird, I think. Months ago Sean and I stood in the back, our opinions meaningless to the group. Now we run all of Boston.

Sean rubs his clear jawline with his hand, thinking. This is his tell, he wants to say something to me but can’t figure out the best way to phrase it.

“Spit it out.” I tell him, opening up the laptop on my desk and pulling up my spreadsheet. We have an accountant, but I like to run through the numbers myself. The action is soothing for some reason or another.

“Still not wanting to retaliate?” Sean asks.

The question is a sore topic of discussion for us. One I’ve been avoiding for as long as possible. Not retaliating is seen as a weakness, I don’t need Sean to tell me that.

Retaliating means causing more harm to Gemma.

“No,” I tell him sternly, focusing instead on the spreadsheet.

He leans forward, propping both elbows on his knees and looking at me steadily. “Liam, ya know we need to do something.”

“We don’t.” I counter. It’s not a good counter, because Sean’s not wrong. The truth is, I don’t want to for selfish reasons, for a woman, and there's no good way to say that to my men. My men, who are seeking vengeance.

Sean heaves a heavy sigh and sits back in his chair.

“We don’t need any more heat on us.” I add. “We have enough problems.”

“Sure, sure.” Sean says, but I know it’s only to appease me.

I don’t want to continue this fucking war, I want to make us stronger, but I know that’s impossible as long as this vendetta hangs over our heads.

I have t

o do something.

“I SET UP A MEETING with this girl.” Rhea hands me the file. We’ve picked two women from our list of way too many. We don’t have much, but hopefully enough to help them with legal fees and finding lawyers.


Tags: Natalia Lourose Crime