“Lombardi,” Cillian repeats with complete disdain. “Draco Lombardi?”
“Drago.”
“Same thing,” he says dismissively. “Giorgio Lombardi’s little shit spawn?”
“That’s the one.”
“Isn’t he an idiot?”
That forces a laugh out of me. “Exactly. Which is why this one fucking hurts,” I grimace. “I let him slip right through my fingers.”
“I told you, you should have dealt with him years ago.”
“I know,” I say grudgingly.
“Small threats can grow into big ones.”
I grit my teeth. “I know.”
“You should have killed him the same day you killed his fucking father.”
“I fucking know, Cillian,” I growl. “Don’t go all Da on me.”
“Low fucking blow.”
“Had to be said.”
We still joke about our father. But only because the precedent has been set. We both know that to be a great don means mimicking Ronan O’Sullivan as closely as we can.
“So what happened?”
“Little shit tried to hit one of my warehouses,” I explain. “He showed up with a tiny fucking crew and rigged a bomb to the main entrance. Phoenix was with me.”
“Ah, young Phoenix. Artem told me you were mentoring the kid for a few weeks.”
It used to bother me that Cillian spoke to Artem more than he spoke to me. But I get it now. Sometimes, family isn’t just about sharing blood. Sometimes, it’s about choosing each other even when there’s nothing compelling you to.
When Cillian had been forced into exile from Ireland, Artem was there for him. That loyalty went both ways. It has never wavered. Another reason why the Bratva and the O’Sullivan Clan are so fucking powerful today. Both mafia families have been strengthened by an alliance that goes far deeper than shared financial gain.
It’s built on brotherhood.
“He’s a good kid,” I say. “Quiet and broody, just like his father.”
“He’s more like Esme than Artem,” Cillian says.
“No,” I disagree. “He’s still figuring out who he’s like. I’m not even sure he knows.”
“He’s not the reason things didn’t go according to plan, is he?” Cillian asks cautiously, as though the thought’s just occurring to him.
“No,” I sigh. “This one’s all on me. I waited until he left, dismantled the bomb, and then took off after him.”
“With Phoenix?”
I suppress a frustrated groan. “Alone.”
“Jesus, Kian.”
“Like you said before, Lombardi’s a fucking idiot. I didn’t think I needed backup. And I wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t been for…”