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Ouch.

That one actually lands.

Mostly because I know I’ve been neglecting my role in this little errand.

I should have been on the lookout for trouble. I should have warned Sean about our unexpected visitors.

But I’d been preoccupied out back with a certain redheaded siren.

And she’d turned my head so completely, I’d failed to see what was trundling around the corner.

I don’t show Brody or his goons my frustration, though. I let his comments roll off my back as I take a step closer to them.

All three men tense, but I keep my body lose and relaxed.

“I figured I had time,” I reply. “After all, it’s not like you’re mafia.”

It’s a sore subject with Brody Murtagh.

The fucker thinks that just because he hangs out with a certain crowd, that gives him exclusive status as a mob kid.

Completely fucking delusional.

You don’t choose this life.

It chooses you.

He bares his teeth and snarls at me. “I am fucking mafia.”

“You may roll with the big dogs,” I tell him. “That doesn’t make you one, though. More like the stray kitten they picked up off the roadside.”

“What did you say to me, motherfucker?”

“Brody…” The guy standing at Brody’s right shoulder throws him a cautionary glance.

My confidence deepens.

His two Kinahan stooges are trying to rein him in. Which means they don’t necessarily approve of this interruption. Because of course, no one in their right minds messes with our clan.

“You heard me,” I reply carelessly. “You can’t just buy your way into the fucking mob life. Though the Kinahans have let the bar for entry drop ever lower these days, haven’t they, lads?”

Both of Brody’s goons raise their hackles immediately.

Am I being stupid, goading them like this? Perhaps, considering I am dealing with two hardened mafia men. Brody may be a wannabe, but his two watchdogs are for real.

But what’s life without a little danger?

“I’d watch your mouth, O’Sullivan. You’re not untouchable,” one of the goons threatens.

He’s got yellowing teeth and unfortunate, curly hair that only highlights how ugly he is.

“No one is,” I concede. “Doesn’t mean attacking me is gonna go unnoticed, however. What are you jokers doing following me and my brother around?”

“What makes you think we were following you?” Brody snaps, giving himself away.

I have to try really hard not to laugh.

This guy is so fucking easy to read. He wears his emotions on his face like a fucking map of his thoughts. Makes things fun for me, though.


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