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“He’s calling me over there, Cher.” I try to act cool and am surely failing.

“Go.” She nudges me, but whispers in my ear, “Remember, do not say a word about Miller.”

The way the guard licks his lips, watching me saunter to his table, it looks like I’ll be calling out this guy’s name tonight after all...

CHAPTER TWO

Griffin Quinlan – Astoria, New York – Present Day

January – Age 37

“Who the hell are you?” I bark at the man in a three-piece, expensive-looking suit as he dares to open the low-slung iron gate in front of my family mansion in Astoria.

It’s not locked. Never needed to be. Enough people in this neighborhood know who we are. We don’t have bodyguards. Wearethe guards. We are the investigation, protection, and killing arm for the O’Rourkes, the Irish Mob in this small city.

Anyone dumb enough to break into my home leaves in a body bag.

“Kai Powers, Esquire,” the man finally responds, his voice absent of any accent.

Nearly everyone around here speaks with an Irish brogue like me, and not hearing one raises my hackles.

Enemy.

A lawyer no less.

“What the fuck do you want?” I push on the heavy iron storm door, beads of ice clinging to it from the early January chill. “Did I say you can come onto my property?”

“You’ll want to invite me inside, Mr. Quinlan.” Kai holds a briefcase against his chest.

As if I’ll invite some fucking stranger into the house.

Shane is the first person I call. He’s the security specialist in the family and currently the right-hand man to the O’Rourke’s hacker, Balor.

“Aye,” Shane answers on the first ring since I rarely call this early.

On New Year’s Day, no less.