Page 2 of Cutting (Doyle Irish Mob #1)

CHAPTER TWO

Present Day - Sean

IT'S BEEN TWO months of quiet on the Patrick front. One would think we could relax. No. It’s not time to relax. It’s time to plan. To act.

And what better way to do that, than meet with our new allies.

Val ended up proving his innocence, and his worth to Keira. True to his word, Killian gave his blessing. With their union, Killian and Luca, the Don of the Italians and Val’s brother, secured our first alliance, and by extension, our second. The Italians already had a signed commitment for an alliance by arranged marriage with the future Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, Ivan.

Ivan Vasiliev was sent here by the United Bratva Brotherhood a few months ago. They believe that Mishkin, the current leader in Chicago, has become unhinged, dangerous, and unpredictable. Ivan was chosen to come and observe him, and if necessary, remove him by any means necessary. Soon, Mishkin will die by Ivan’s hand. Before he does it, he’s working to ensure a relatively peaceful transition of power.

Our joint alliance is a part of that plan. It’s a part of all of our plans. Together we have the money, the man power, and the resources to remove all our enemies. Mishkin, Patrick, and even the Cartel. We just need to do it right. Hence the meeting of the minds.

We want our streets safe for our people. Well, as safe as we can make them. Crime will never be gone, and drugs will always exist, but with our families united we can write the narrative of which drugs hit the streets and which men hold illegal weapons.

Tonight our three families are meeting at a warehouse on the docks. It’s one owned by the Italians. They are the only family currently, completely on stable ground.

In a few months, hopefully we will be too, then we can turn our attention to assisting Ivan and the Russians.

This particular warehouse has been deemed communal/neutral territory for the time being. It’s been scanned by members of all three families for bugs and traps. Even with a truce in place, it’s difficult to let your guard down among other families.

We gather around the table. Bosses and Underbosses take their seats, while the rest of us take our places behind them. My hand automatically goes to rest on my side piece. We aren’t in danger. At least not from the people around the table. Not that it matters. I’ve been on edge for months. Unable to relax. And I’ve been busy. Too damn busy. I can’t remember the last woman I took to bed.

No, that’s a lie.

Tara.

Fuck, she was hot. I broke my rule with her. I gave her more than one night. I gave her the weekend. In my defense, she was hands down the best sex I have had in years, maybe ever. Plus she was completely on board with us being a one-time thing. Shit, she even tried to sneak out on me shortly after we did the deed the first time. She was too good to let go after just one romp in the sheets. I had pushed her back onto the bed and took her again. Then I dragged her into the shower, where I proceeded to take her against the wall.

In the morning, I broke another rule, I ordered breakfast. Fucking breakfast. And I ate it with her. I had to. I needed an excuse to keep her longer. Yet, she still tried to walk away after we finished eating. She had her dress on, heels in hand, kissed me on the cheek, said thank you, and then headed to the door.

Maybe it was ego, but I didn’t want her to be the one to walk away from me. No woman did that to me. I was always the one to leave, or tell them to go. Hell even my regular booty call Jessica, who knew the score, still acted salty and tried to avoid being dismissed. It never worked on me. That’s why I started using the hotel suite. Convenient, impersonal, and I could walk out the door and leave them whenever I was ready.

Damn, I can feel myself getting hard remembering the wild sex with Tara. Was that really three months ago? Fuck. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about getting my dick wet. This meeting is important. I need to focus.

I need another night with Tara.

No. Fuck. I need a night with a woman. Any woman.

Yeah, that’s it. I’m just thinking about her because I haven’t had anyone since her. I’ll rectify that soon.

Right. Now focus.

Killian jumps right into business. “Have we gotten anything more out of Ramirez?”

Surprisingly, Keira was the one to catch him. Val was pissed.

Word had gotten out that Ramirez wanted Keira kidnapped. Trying to get ahead of him, Keira volunteered to be bait and lure Ramirez into our trap. Val had been against the idea. He refused to risk her safety, even if the result was nabbing Ramirez. Keira, being the stubborn ass she is, handcuffed him to their bed, and went anyway.

It worked, but only after she was kidnapped and moved to a second location. We had assumed that would be there plan, and were ready for it. We were only a few minutes behind them. Instead of one of us being the one to free her from Ramirez. We found her drenched in blood, holding a knife to Ramirez’s throat while he knelt at her feet.

Luca’s Underboss, Massimo, smiles as he leans forward. He’s the one leading the interrogation. “Took a while, but he’s singing like a canary now.” He makes eye contact with Killian. “He confirmed Patrick had approached the Cartel first. Ramirez planned to kill him off after he took you and your father out.”

Killian’s expression doesn’t change. He knew that answer was coming. Patrick may be blood, but he isn’t family. Especially after everything he’s done. “Does he know where Patrick may be hiding?”

Massimo grunts. I think that means yes. Instead of him verbally answering, it’s Elena who does. She’s the only female at the table. She’s Luca wife, oldest daughter of the recently retired Don, and a world class hacker. She’s got dirt on everyone. Me included. Though my dirty laundry isn’t anything like some of the others. Mine is all typical mafia shit. It would only be bad if it fell into the hands of the Feds. Which she would never do. She is loyal to our cause.

Hell, she’s the one who started the campaign to end the Skin Trade before we were even aware it had started in our city.

“Ramirez gave us his last known location. When we searched it, we came up empty.” Confesses Elena. “Well, empty at first look.”

Luca chuckles, grabs his wife’s hand and kisses her palm. She blushes for a moment before pulling it back and moving it to pull out her laptop. She types for a few moments then turns to face the wall behind Ivan. Curious, we all turn as well.

To my surprise, a ten foot tall image of a grainy camera feed is lit up on the wall. Looking back around the table, I can see that everyone else is surprised as well. Everyone except Luca. Even Massimo looks surprised for a moment before he laughs and shakes his head. “How the fuck do you keep surprising us? I searched the damn place myself for rouge devices.”

My eyes go to the rafters, looking for where the projector is. Like I said, I trust the people at this table, but Massimo’s statement rings true for me too. I searched this place and found no projector. Elena pulls out a pen from her bag. It’s not a real pen though. It’s a laser pointer. She uses it to point to a tiny round orb on one of the steel beams above us. It looks just like the bolts around it. Damn, she’s good. Unless you stare up and take notice of the specific spacing of each bolt, you wouldn’t know it was out of place.

I can’t help but chuckle and smile at Elena. “Clever.”

She smiles in return. “Hide and seek has always been my favorite game.”

Luca suddenly goes serious. “No hiding. No running!” He barks at her.

That gets everyone at the table laughing. It’s no secret that Elena didn’t want to marry Luca at first. She didn’t want to marry anyone. Nor did she want to stay in the city.

It’s a long story, but essentially, Elena didn’t grow up in the life. Her father, Bosco, hadn’t even known she existed until a few months ago.

Due to a bounty on her and her mother’s head, Elena had been running all her life, she didn’t know any better. Every day was about survival. Luca, on the other hand, had known for years that he was going to marry the Don’s daughter. He just thought it was going to be Milan, Bosco’s younger daughter.

Then Elena came into the picture, turning everything upside down as she did. As the heir, her husband would take over as Don, and Bosco wanted that to be Luca.

Finding Elena was a welcome surprise for Luca, and the sappy bastard fell quick. It was love at first site. Or maybe it was love at first kick to the balls.

Sick fuck. All the Italians are. They are obsessive bastards with their women. Aside from Luca and Elena, there is also Massimo and Livianna who met when he drugged her, kidnapped her, and locked her in a basement cell thinking she might be a spy. Then there is Val and Keira. After performing life saving surgery on him, he locked her in his compound then chained her to his bed for days after her stunt with Ramirez.

Elena calms Luca, and reassures him she’s not running from him by climbing into his lap. He wraps his arms around her waist and presses his face to her neck. My first instinct is to cringe at their interactions, but a small, very minuscule part, that I refuse to recognize beyond this moment, is jealous.

Turning our attention back to the image on the wall, Elena proceeds to walk us through finding a receipt for a bodega in the location Ramirez gave them. From there, Elena hacked the security system at the store. Using the date and time on the receipt she was able to scroll back in the footage to confirm it was from Patrick.

The images on the wall scroll through as Elena describes the puzzle she pieced together by following his movements after the bodega, through ATM, traffic, and even doorbell cameras. I’m a smart man, but even I can feel myself getting lost at her explanation. And a headache from the quick flashing images.

Finally the scrolling stops on a still photo of the front door of a familiar pub. A very familiar pub. It’s one of ours. One of the ones I oversee. The manager, Noah, is a trusted friend. Was trusted. Whatever Elena says next may very well determine how long Noah has left to live.

“Patrick has been seen entering through the back door of this location twice a week for at least the last six months. It’s never the same time of day, or even day of the week. There is no discernible pattern that I have been able to find.” States Elena.

“Any idea who he is meeting with?” Asks Ivan.

She looks to Killian, then Grady and finally me. “Not yet. Your cameras there are on a closed system. I would need access to the building in order to get in and search.”

“No need.” I reply. “I’ll be making a visit there this week.”

Killian must read the murderous look in my eye, before speaking. “We need Noah untouched for now. We can’t let on that we know about the visits. We need them to continue to meet until we can figure out what he is up to.”

“Of course.” I relent. Trying to calm the murderous rage within. “I’ll have Callum come with me. While I discuss normal business with Noah, I’ll have Callum make a copy of the security footage. Once I go through it, I’ll report back with findings.”

Killian and everyone else nods in agreement. Then he turns back to Elena. “Any update on Kiernan’s situation?”

We found out, not long ago, that Kiernan’s new identity wasn’t as fool proof as we thought. While researching her father, and the workings of the families in Chicago, Elena found a lead on Kiernan. One we hadn’t known existed. After learning who Killian was to Keira, and Keira to Val, who Elena now sees as a brother, she agreed to work on hiding Kiernan better and removing any existing evidence of his previous identity.

“Not much.” Answers Keira. “I’ve removed all digital footprints that link his old identity to his new one. Then backtracked and filled in blanks in his fake background. It’s as secure as I can make it. However, I cannot guarantee no one else was able to find the trail of breadcrumbs before I erased them. Ronan’s agreed to watch out for him and his family for the next few months. Making sure no one is sniffing around for him in Topeka.”

We’ve never met Ronan, only heard of him in passing from the Italians. I’m not sure what his actual job is, but best I can deduce is that he is an ex-military gun for hire that lives off the grid. He’s a ghost. Years ago, his path crossed with Elena and her mom while they were running. He watched over them, and when she was old enough, began training Elena to take care of herself. He’s had a soft spot for her ever since.

“Please pass along my thanks to Ronan.” Requests Killian.

I can see that this answer doesn’t settle him. We’ve avoided talk of Kiernan over the years. It was painful for Killian to send his brother away. Even if it was the best thing for him. As a twin he confessed it was like losing a limb.

“Have you given any thought to who you will marry now?” Asks Luca.

Killian shakes his head. “No. Things are too unsettled at the moment. I’m keeping my eyes and ears open for a good candidate in case an unexpected opportunity arises.”

Massimo turns to Grady. “You on the lookout as well?”

Grady runs a hand down his face. Marriage and kids are a sore topic for Grady. He’s gotten better about the subject in recent months.

Our inner circle is acutely aware of Grady’s hang-ups. The answer is painful. Grady is torn between old memories and new responsibilities. As Killian’s Underboss, marriage is unavoidable. Killian has made it clear, we each need to bite the bullet, get married, and have an heir.

Grady was originally angry about the the decree. As time passed he became reluctant. Now, he is firmly set at indifferent.

I’m still set in reluctant. If I avoid the commitment long enough for Killian, Grady, and Callum to all marry and pop out a few kids, maybe they will back off and allow me to stay single.

He clears his throat. “As with Killian, I am prepared to do my duty to the family, but not until Patrick is handled.”

Grady is a private man, so those at the table may not already know his past, well except for Elena, I wouldn’t risk betting against her knowledge.

Grady was married once. High school sweethearts. They were married young, but were together for nearly 10 years before she passed.

Cancer took her quickly.

There is a nasty rumor that he killed her when she couldn't give him a child.

That is just a rumor. Not that he has ever disputed the claim. It adds to the fear men have of him. If he could murder the woman he loved, what could he do to someone who crossed him?

Grady married her knowing she might not be able to have children. Severe endometriosis. They did all they could, sought out countless specialists, even looked into IVF until the cancer was found.

He has admitted he never wants to marry again. Doesn’t want to risk falling in love with another person. Doesn’t want to watch as another woman grows his child, when the woman he loved first couldn’t. Doesn’t want to risk caring for someone else that might be torn from him.

I don’t blame him. I have my own fears. Not that they can compare in any way to Grady’s. Mine are selfish. I don’t want to be tied to one woman. I like variety in bed. I like being able to spend nights at the club and not feel bad about not being home to read bedtime stories. I like not having to think of another person’s needs. Let alone two or three once kids get added to the mix.

If I want to go somewhere, I can grab my keys and go. I don’t need to check in with the wife, or spend twenty minutes packing a diaper bag then another ten trying to wrangle the kid into the car.

Are there positives to being married?

Absolutely.

I’ve seen what my parents have. I’ve felt the flash of jealousy when witnessing private moments between them. The unbreakable bond. The friendship. The trust. The years of inside jokes and secrets. The love.

What they have is co-dependent. Probably at an unhealthy level, but they happy as fuck.

Shaking my head, I force my wandering mind to focus on Ivan as he circles our conversation back to bloody business.

“Mishkin is becoming more and more unstable. He's being sneakier. Making decisions without consultation.” Ivan pauses and huffs out a breath. “I may need to consider moving up the time-line. I will do what I can to hold off until absolutely necessary. We don’t need to be fighting a war on two fronts.”

Murmurs of agreement spread around the room.

For the next few hours we coordinate our efforts to ending the skin trade and capturing Patrick.