Page 22 of Bad Bishop

Vello inclined his head. “My soldiers are at your disposal.”

“Your sons, too.”

He needed to have real skin in the game. Plus, I didn’t rule out getting Achilles killed for what he did to me.

“Our hands have been clean for far too long.” Achilles’s voice cut through the silence like scissors. “Blood. Power. War. We crave it. Our soldiers, too. It’s time.”

Vello contemplated this for a moment before nodding.

Well, shit. If this was his opening gambit, he really needed this reunion.

“And I want Harlem. North. South. All of it,” I pressed on.

“Keep dreaming, pretty boy.” Achilles flicked his cigarette out the window.

I stood up, knowing I wouldn’t make it past the threshold. They were desperate to clean their hands of the girl. I turned around and headed for the door. Vello’s words stopped me midstride.

“I’ll give you Harlem on one condition,” Vello’s death-drenched voice croaked. “You find Lila’s rapist and take revenge. Discreetly. Show your loyalty to us, prove that this union between the Ferrantes and Callaghans is more than business. If you do this for me, if you find the man and kill him, I will give you Harlem. Not before.”

Expanding the Callaghan territory and dragging the Ferrantes into my war was too sweet a deal to turn down. I wanted to conquer New York, so I could leave Tierney and Fintan something behind. Means to live comfortably after I was gone.

Plus, I never shied away from wet work.

Pivoting, I reached over to his chessboard, using a bishop to knock down every piece around it. “Send me all CCTV footage from the wedding weekend.”

I stalked out of the office without sparing my new bride a glimpse. Chiara was in the hallway, wrestling with the soldiers on the carpet. I sidestepped her. Behind my back, I heard the sound of the glass shattering in Vello’s fist, Achilles ranting in Italian, and Luca barking at his soldiers to unhand his mother.

Only Lila stayed silent.

Not for long.I smirked.

I was very good at making people scream.

1 “You’re trying to protect something after the loss has already occurred”; “too little, too late”.

CHAPTER SIX

LILA

The next time I saw my fiancé was at our wedding. By then, I had fully digested what was happening, and I was ready for a fight.

It was just my luck the Valium my mother crushed and slipped into my pink lemonade wore off when the priest informed my now-husband he may kiss the bride.

I pressed my lips into a firm line, holding my breath. There were eight hundred guests at our wedding. Not one of them raised concerns about the bride being allegedly not of sound mind, and no one objected to this farce.

I hated the Camorra. The Irish. Theworld.

My husband’s eye—shamrock green, with golden speckles swimming inside it—twinkled with malice, reminding me its twin had been excised by my brother, and it was now time to take revenge. Throughme. The black eye patch made his face ruggedly handsome. He looked like a well-scrubbed pirate. One who wouldn’t mind tossing me off the ship.

A possessive hand snatched my waist, and he leaned in, tilting me down to the cheers and claps of our audience. Any hope his disastrous reputation was exaggerated snuffed like a brittle candlewick in the wind. His lips crushed against mine, spreading into a spiteful smile.

“So fucking sweet.” His mouth moved over my own. Even though I couldn’t see it, I couldfeelhis words digging into my skin like the tip of a knife. “I can’t wait to corrupt you.”

A whisper of heat teased my stomach. Something I’d never felt before. It felt like someone spilled syrup inside me.

The guests went wild. Whistling, clapping, and cheering.

My father had insisted the wedding take place on Crimson Key. He wanted to show everyone it was business as usual. Signal nothing bad had happened here. But the fact our wedding took place only two weeks after the emergency meeting with the Callaghans spoke volumes. It was enough to raise suspicion among his soldiers. They were obedient, not stupid.