“It’s no problem,” Cain replies, “we’re keeping some of the girls. We’ll find them places to stay and put them to work in the clubs where they’ll be safe.”
“Excellent,” Dante replies and his voice is tight. I can see him processing the information and working out therightpath to take. If it were me, I’d want to kill every lying Irish bastard just for what they did toCara,never mind anything else. The urge settles heavily into my bones. I can’t though. We have to play this smart.
“I want to talk to Owen,” Dante decides, locking eyes with me, “then I’ll decide what the fuck we do with this shit.” He heads for the doorway, but Cain holds up his hand.
“There’s one more thing,” he says and he turns to me, “Conor also revealed that the Russian they were dealing with, the one leading the charge against all of us, goes by the name Grigoriy Lenkov. Sound familiar?”
“Ah,” My jaw tenses like a board snapping together, and my teeth clack sharply. The Russian brigadier that paid me that lovely visit to my coffee shop to threaten me about the wedding. Is he the mastermind behind all of this?
His name shoots to the top of my kill list, and I thank Cain with a nod before following Dante down the stairs and out of the building. My focus drifts slightly in the fog of anger that drapes down, almost smothering my ability to think.
“Talk to me,” Dante says as he stops by the car.
That bastard had not only interrupted my quiet mornings at my favorite coffee shop, but he’d also been behind the plans to destroy my clubs, wreck my home and steal Cara from me.
Does he know he’s directly targeting me, or is he justthatunlucky?
And he’s still out there, walking free with no clue to the hellfire I’m about to rain down on him.
“I—,” I seethe, but anger chokes me, and I stop a few feet away. “Callahanliedto us.” The words come easier after a deep breath. “He was preparing for war with us, then came crawling to us with some bullshit excuse when things started to crumble. I’mbeyondpissed! And Grigoriy’s managed to attack every single one of the few things I hold dear. I want to kill him myself.”
“You will,” Dante nods once, “but we have to be careful.”
“Careful?” I snap, then I catch myself. Dante shouldn’t take the brunt of my anger.
“We still need the Irish. Regardless of what Callahan has done, Sienna is right. We still need their numbers. We need their strength. We have to deal with this delicately. Once we’ve sorted that, we’ll tackle the Russians.”
The urge to demand that we should tackle thisnowrises like venom in my throat, butI know he’s right. One traitorous family at a time. It doesn’t stop me from slamming the door when I climb into the car, though.
As we pull away from that wretched whorehouse, the new information weaves around my mind like a snake while Dante texts Owen asking him to meet us at one of our warehouses, preferring to be on our turf when we confront him.
I think back to after the hospital when Cara learned the truth. She swore Callahan had told her everything and that the guns were for protection, nothing more. And it’s clear Callahan has worked to keep a lot of people in the dark, so I believe her.
Owen is already at the docks with two of his men by the time we pull up, and greets us both with a tight nod.
“Gentlemen,” he says, “I was surprised to get your message.”
“Things are changing,” Dante replies, closing his suit jacket with a single button and coming to a stop in front of Owen. The acrid scent of oil and saltwater from the nearby river assaults my nose as I stop just behind Dante, taking in the two guards that flank Owen. It lingers in my mind that they may be traitors too. Owen’s dark gaze lands on me, and he frowns.
“Aye, I heard you paid Callahan a visit,” he states dryly.
I don’t reply.
Dante clears his throat. “Your rats are fleeing a sinking ship, Owen. Looking around, there’s not much left to bargain with.”
There’s a beat of silence. I wonder if Owen will deny it and try to double down. Is he part of the fleeing loyalty? Or is he in the dark? My left arm drifts subtly over my hidden gun, just in case.
“I know,” Owen replies finally. “I paid my own visit to Callahan after I heard what happened to Cara. Thank you, by the way.” His gaze returns to me, “for rescuing her.”
I give a curt nod.
“Callahan has been slipping for some time. He sold us big dreams.”
“Dreams of war with me?” Dante asks shortly. Owen’s brow lifts a fraction before he sighs.
“Aye. War was in the cards when you were a rising power. At the time, it seemed like a smart move. We’d had our troubles in the past, but your rivalry with one another kept you at bay. Callahan saw your marriage to Sienna as a threat and wanted us toprepare,” Owen sighs deeply, and I’m struck suddenly by how old and troubled he looks.
“The weapons we received were on credit and, with respect, when you took a lickin’ from the Snake, Callahan wanted to use the opportunity to get us on top. But we didn’t have enough equity to leverage the payments and, well, you can see that went arseways!” Owen’s shoulders subtly drop a fraction like a weight has been lifted with the confession, and he raises a hand to run fingers through his hair. “I’ve been tryna weed out the weak, kick the weasels to the curb before it buckles our racket. We need this, despite everything. You and I both know that without each other, we’re wide open to any Russian chancer.”