Page 101 of Mine
‘Over my dead body.’ I press a kiss to her temple.
Something sparks in Frankie’s eyes. He sees it then. Registers exactly how much she means to me. Exactly how real my feelings for her are.
He circles the kitchen slowly, like a general inspecting the ground before battle. ‘Very well.’ He clears his throat. ‘You two have started a war with the one man I specifically warned you to stay away from. Whether you stole her, or she ran to you, the end result is the same. Rory Kavanagh is in your fucking warehouse, even though I brokered an accord with his father, Michael Kavanagh.’ He glares at me.
‘I do, though I still don’t know why.’ I take a sip of whiskey. ‘You know Kavanagh’s a cunt. A dangerous one too. He’s trafficking women from Eastern Europe. Some of them aren’t even women, they’re fucking teenagers.’
‘Fucking animal,’ Ciaran spits.
A vein throbs at my temple. ‘It’s our responsibility to put an end to it, and to him, or we’re no better than the previous Syndicate.’
Frankie strides slowly across the kitchen and helps himself to a refill. He spins on his heels, then stalks towards us again. ‘I brokered the accord to save your father’s life.’ He pauses. Ciaran’s fingers tighten around his whiskey glass.
‘I already lost one brother,’ Frankie continues. ‘I wasn’t prepared to lose another. He was a sitting fucking duck at Ravenhill. You think you run everything, Dominic. You don’t run Ravenhill. And you can’t control men who’ve got nothing left to lose.’
I had no idea there was a threat to my father’s life. ‘If I’d been in possession of all the facts, I could have fucking tried.’ I frown. ‘Besides, that was a lifetime ago. I say we take out all Kavanagh’s men, and his father and be fucking done with it. I’ll arrange protection in prison for my father. Hell, I’ll get put away myself if I have to. He only has two more years on his sentence.’
Ciaran and Cathal mutter their agreement, but I’m not listening because Aoife flinches in my arms for the first time since we stepped inside. She twists her face to meet my eyes. ‘Overmydead body.’ She tosses my own saying back in my face. ‘I won’t lose you, Dom. Not after everything.’
I watch her throat work as she blinks furiously. Fuck. I promised her that the happiness we found together wouldn’t be snatched from her, and we’ve been home all of five minutes and Frankie drops this bomb on me.
He eyes us thoughtfully, assessing us like an animal assesses its prey.
But I’m not the hunted.
I’m the hunter.
And no one is going to come between me and my wife.
‘I’ll get men inside the prison. Loyal men. We’ll have them inside before news of Kavanagh’s demise breaks. I say we end them.’ I glance at my brothers. They look to Frankie.
‘You want permission to finish Kavanagh,’ he says at last.
‘I don’t need permission.’
‘But you do need to make sure there are no loose ends.’ Frankie turns to Ciaran and Cathal. ‘You two head to Limerick.Take out the rest of Rory’s men. Smooth things over with the O’Dwyers. Leave Micheal to me. He might be old, but he’s not fucking dead, yet.’ His silver eyes glint. ‘I’ll take him out. Rory didn’t inherit his cuntishness from the fucking wind.’
He stops in front of Aoife, his pupils bore into her. She doesn’t falter. ‘You love my nephew?’
She wets her lips, her gaze flicks to mine. ‘More than anything in this world.’
Frankie’s silver eyes flick back to me, and a slow grin splits his lips. ‘You are one lucky cunt.’
‘Believe me.’ I pull Aoife flush against my chest. ‘I know.’
‘Let’s get this done tonight, lads. Cleanly,’ Frankie adds. ‘Publicly enough that people know not to fuck with The Syndicate. Privately enough that none of you fuckers end up in prison.’ He drains his glass, places it on the counter, then strides towards the door. ‘One more thing, Dominic.’
I brace myself.
‘If your marriage doesn’t work out, whether it’s in a year or a month,’ he says calmly, ‘she can’t walk away from this family. She knows too much.’
It’s not a suggestion. It’s another rule.
‘It won’t be an issue.’ Aoife straightens her spine, meeting my uncle’s eye again.
He smiles at her, like he didn’t just instruct me to kill her if she tries to walk away. ‘Like I said.’ His pupils drift to me again. ‘You’re one lucky cunt.’
He stalks out of the room, and Aoife, Ciaran and Cathal exhale collectively. I take her in my arms. ‘You alright?’
