Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
"Cazzo. You're saying he had her tied up?"
"Not last night," I admit. "But yeah, often enough to leave permanent scars on her wrists."
"Mafankulo." If there's one thing Rafe and I have always agreed on, it's that motherfuckers who abuse women don't have a place in this world. They aren't pawns or bartering chips. We're meant to protect and provide, not to terrorize and victimize. Especially not a principessa. Irish blood may run in her veins instead of Italian, but she was still born into this life. In his eyes, that makes her princess enough.
"This isn't your fight, Rafe. It's mine. I put the mask on to keep you and the family out of it."
"Yeah, well, you should have checked for cameras in her fucking room," he mutters. "They know exactly who took her. Cillian is demanding a sit-down."
"He had cameras in her room?" I growl, my blood boiling. Cazzo. She had no privacy? No escape? Every new thing I learn about Cillian Brennan simply adds one more item to the list of reasons he's going to die by my hand.
"You know that's not our problem," Rafe says quietly. "We stay out of Irish business, and they stay out of ours."
"Yeah, well, you may want to rethink that," I snap, losing my temper with him for the first time in a long time. "The only reason he's in Chicago is because of you. They sent him to take what they haven't been able to get any other way."
"What are you talking about?"
"They wanted a piece of Chicago, and they sent him to pry it from your grasp," I say. "Our plan to have them deal with him? Doesn't fucking matter. According to Finley, his people in Boston know he's skimming off the top and working deals behind their backs. They don't care because he's built a base of power in Chicago. He's become a threat. To you. They're willing to tolerate a lot for that prize."
Rafe mutters a curse.
"So from where I'm sitting, it looks like he has to die either way, Rafe. You can send the family after me for going off-script; that's fine. You do what you have to do. But I'm going to do what I have to do, too."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"It means I'm going to hunt him down like a fucking dog and end his miserable life. And then I'm going to pick his sons off one by one until the weakest remains. If he agrees to my terms, I'll let him live. If he doesn't, he'll die too. But I'm not giving Finley back to Cillian. Hell will freeze over before I send her back to anyone in that house," I growl, meaning every word. "And if our family gets in my way or tries to stop me, I'll do whatever it takes to protect her."
"You'd choose her over your family? Over your oaths?"
"Yes. And you'd choose Amalia the same way. We both know you would." We both know he did. When it was him, he handed her every shred of evidence she needed to bury him and every single one of us and then sat and waited for the world to burn down around us. The only reason it didn't is because she chose him too.
"Cristo, Domani. It didn't have to come to this."
"It did," I say.
"You could have come to me!"
"Had I come to you, would you have helped her? Or would you have sent her back to try to avoid a war?"
He doesn't say anything. He can't.
"My shit can't be your shit when you have the whole goddamn organization to consider, Rafe," I say quietly. "You would have done what you had to do. And I did what I had to do."
"Goddammit, Domani," he growls, his voice rough with emotion I've never heard from him before. This is killing him. I know it is. But I made my choice. It's Finley. And Rafe has no choice but to make his. I don't fault him for it. I can't. If I were in his shoes, I'd make the same goddamn one. That's the price of being the capo. That's what it means to lead.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
"Don't send Coda," I say. "I don't care who else you send after me, but don't send him."
Rafe sighs…and then disconnects.
I drop my phone on the desk, scrubbing my hands down my face.
That was exactly as hard as I thought it'd be. But I wouldn't do it differently.
My choice was made before I ever carried Finley out of her room. It was her. It'll always be her.
Chapter Seven
Finley
"Wake up, sleepyhead." I smile, running my fingers through Domani's hair. He looks peaceful in his sleep, less like a warrior and more like a slumbering giant. There's a softness to him that's absent when he's awake. I can almost imagine him as a boy. Almost. But there's nothing boyish left in this man.