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Betrayals, backstabbing, and unnecessary murders.

That’s Tristan’s shit. Not mine.

As far as I’m concerned, the Kinahans and the Murtaghs can drown in their own shit and take Tristan down with them.

In fact, I wish they would.

I try to block Tristan and his crooked cop buddy out, but snippets of their conversation still carry to me. They’re not exactly trying to keep their voices down, either.

“A full-scale attack… How many dead?”

“… didn’t resist… They’ve been taken…”

“Fuck… Ronan O’Sullivan… and his bitch, too?”

“Where have they been taken?”

“The Cavern.”

“Fuck. This changes things.”

“It changes everything.”

My back hits the cold wall and I slide to the ground, ignoring the cement block in the corner that’s supposed to be a bed. I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them.

Things are always changing in the mafia world. Shit is always hitting the fan. This time is undoubtedly no different.

So I tune them out as an old melody pops into my head. It takes me a second to place it.

And when I do, the words come to me, too.

“The pale moon was rising above the green mountain…” I hum under my breath.

They’re still fixated on some mafia gossip. It must be good, because Tristan is practically foaming at the bit.

I continue my song. “…The sun was declining beneath the blue sea...”

His friend glances at me and then says something else. Tristan’s expression changes instantly. He pales slightly as though he’s just been informed that he has three months to live.

“What?” he barks.

“Yeah,” his friend replies.

He adds something else, but I’m busy singing.

“…When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain...”

“Are you sure?” Tristan demands, his dark eyes zeroing in on me as though I’ve personally offended him by existing at all.

“A hundred percent.” His friend confirms whatever bad news he’s just delivered. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

Tristan nods, but there’s a look in his eye. Calculating. Foreboding. Murderous.

“..That stands in beautiful vale of Tralee...”

The song I sang Cillian that night on the rooftop.

The same song he sang right back to me.


Tags: Nicole Fox Kovalyov Bratva Erotic