Page 27 of Dublin Charmer (Emerald Isle Mafia #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Nyx

T he SUV pulls to a stop, and Donal yanks the blackout bag off my head, pulling a patch of my hair with it. I blink while my eyes adjust and stare up at the massive warehouse directly in front of us.

Rain pelts the vehicle as we sit idling. After a moment, the tall double doors split down the middle and the driver pulls the vehicle right into the main bay of the warehouse.

“Out,” Donal orders, his scarred face impassive.

I scan the vast interior of the warehouse, its walls and shelving racks looming overhead like a steel mountain rising on three sides.

Men in dark jackets hustle around, unloading trucks despite the weather.

Skids of unmarked boxes are hoisted up by forklifts and moved from one end to another with practiced efficiency.

My heart skips. Could this be where they’re keeping Gio? It’s hard to tell with only the one viewpoint I’ve ever seen, but his cage is definitely housed in a sectioned off part of a warehouse.

Donal’s grip on my arm tightens as I slow my pace, trying to look around. “Keep moving.”

“What is all this?” I ask, nodding toward the activity.

He doesn’t answer, just shoves me forward toward a set of wide metal stairs leading up to a row of offices suspended against the back wall. The offices have glass windows looking out over the warehouse floor, perfect for supervision.

Perfect for the asshole king to look down on his subjects.

If Gio is here, I won’t find him unless I get away from Donal. My fingers twitch with the urge to text Finn, but my phone was confiscated the moment I got into the SUV.

“Move,” Donal growls, pushing me up the stairs.

I stumble on the wet metal, catching myself on the railing. “I’m moving, asshole.”

At the top, Donal steers me toward the middle office and shoves me inside. The door clangs shut behind me.

Billy Gravely sits at a metal desk, phone pressed to his ear. His expensive suit looks out of place against the industrial backdrop. He holds up one finger without looking at me.

“If the storm is as bad as they’re predicting, it’ll give us the cover we need,” he says into the phone. “Aye, everyone you can round up. Let me know when it’s done.”

He hangs up and finally meets my gaze. His eyes are cold, calculating—different from the usual faux-friendly mask he wears.

“Nyx,” he says, the name sounding wrong on his lips. “Have a seat.”

I remain standing. “What the hell? Donal grabbed me at the diner and threw me in a truck like a fucking caveman. He took my phone. He took my laptop. He made me wear a bag over my head. What the fuck is going on, Billy?”

Gravely leans back in his chair, the leather creaking in protest. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself. What exactly is going on?” He taps his fingers on the desk. “I used to consider ye my good luck charm. My ace in the hole against the enemy.”

“And nothing’s changed. I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

“Have ye, now?” He stands, circling the desk.

“Because lately, everything you help me with turns to shit. The Christmas attack? Disaster. The surveillance on the Quinn systems? Compromised. And just how did the youngest McGuire brats not only get away, but get picked up by Quinn men and taken to Northside?”

My face remains neutral even as my pulse quickens.

“Your men had all the intel for the Christmas attack. Their failure was not on me. I admit I wasn’t expecting Finn to run such tight security, but I told you I can break it, and I will.

As for the McGuire boys, you called me to watch the warehouse and pave the way for your men, so that’s what I did. ”

“And yet...” He stops directly in front of me. “I’m left wondering if you’re not motivated to help me anymore Or worse, actively sabotaging me.”

“I wouldn’t risk that. My brother?—”

“Is the only reason yer still breathing,” he finishes, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I don’t think yer stupid enough to fuck me over and risk his safety, but my patience has limits, bitch.”

The insult sends ice through my veins.

A sharp knock interrupts us.

“What?” Billy barks.

A man cracks the door. “You’re needed downstairs, boss. The shipment from Belfast has arrived early.”

Billy’s jaw tightens. “Fine.” He turns to me. “Don’t move. We’re not finished.”

He stalks out, and I hear the distinct click of a lock engaging.

The moment he’s gone, I spring into action, searching the office. There’s a desk phone, but there’s no dial tone when I lift the receiver. No computer. No fax machine. No nothing.

The windows looking out to the warehouse floor don’t open, and the ones looking outside are too thick to break without something substantial to smash them with.

I press my face against the glass, looking down to the asphalt below. Not a good plan. If I managed to break the glass and hike myself over the window ledge, I’d break my legs from the fall.

Shifting to the other side of the room, I scan the warehouse below for any sign of Gio. There’s a smaller room at the far end with a guard posted outside. Could he be in there?

I try the door again. Locked tight.

I’m trapped.

And somewhere in this building, my brother might be too.

I pace the small office, my mind racing. Finn must know I’m missing by now. Will he think I betrayed him? Or will he come looking?

Either way, I need to find a way out of here before Billy returns. Because the look in his eyes told me everything I need to know.

My usefulness for Billy Gravely has reached its end.

Finn

Rain beats against my windshield as Gallagher pulls up to the coordinates Sean sent.

The constant thwump, thwump sound out the wiper’s struggle against the downpour, but I can make out the details of the warehouse.

It’s a squat, corrugated metal structure sitting alone at the end of a gravel access road.

No signs, no markings. Just the kind of place you’d hide someone you don’t want found.

We park behind a line of motorcycles and trucks already gathered at the adjacent building, an abandoned machine shop with its roof half-collapsed.

Inside that building, the Dublin Devils are preparing for war.

The smell of gun oil and leather fills the air as thirty men check weapons and adjust tactical vests.

Sean nods when he sees me. “Welcome to the Pleasure Dome.”

“Any sign of her?” I ask, voice tight.

“No. And my guys have had eyes on the place since they followed the guard here. No one has arrived since, so unless they got here first, she’s with Gravely somewhere else.”

“But if our theory is right, her brother’s in there.”

Sean hands me a bulletproof vest. “You sure you’re up for this?”

I strap the vest on. “I’m fine.”

Kieran approaches, his russet hair tied back, face grim. “We’ve got three teams. I’m taking the east entrance, Gallagher’s got the west. You stick with Sean.”

Gallagher pulls a hair tie from the pocket of his leather Devils cut and captures his long black hair. “Hold until my team breaches. Then you guys are good to engage once all hell breaks loose.”

The men around us are checking magazines, chambering rounds. These aren’t just MC members—they’re Sean’s elite. Men who’ve been with the Devils for years. Men who know how to fight.

I check my Browning 19mm, the weight familiar in my hand. I’m no stranger to guns—all Quinn boys learn to shoot before they learn to drive—but my battleground has always been behind screens, not in firefights.

“Remember,” I say, addressing the group, “we’re here for Gio Farina. He’s being held prisoner in a cage somewhere inside. Everything else is secondary.”

“What about Gravely?” someone asks.

“We don’t think he’s here, but if you get a chance to take the fucker down, don’t waste it.”

“It’s open season on him anytime, anywhere,” Sean adds, his voice like ice.

Rain continues to pour as we move into position. The warehouse sits dark and silent, a single light burning above the main entrance. Two guards huddle under the overhang, sharing a cigarette.

Gallagher’s voice comes through the earpiece. “West doors being breached in three... two... one...”

There’s a surreal moment of utter silence and anticipation, and then the world erupts.

As expected, the first shots come from Gallagher’s team taking out the guards at the front. Before the bodies hit the ground, we’re moving, sprinting through the rain toward the building.

I follow Sean through a side door, gun raised. The warehouse interior is cavernous, filled with shipping containers and pallets. Lights flicker on as someone hits the switches, and suddenly we’re exposed.

Gunfire erupts from behind a stack of crates. I dive behind a forklift as bullets ping off metal around me. Sean returns fire, his movements calm and precise.

“Find the cells!” he shouts at me. “We’ll handle this!”

I nod, staying low as I move toward the back of the warehouse. The noises of the gunfight intensify behind me: shouts, curses, the deafening crack of automatic weapons.

A man steps out from behind a column, raising his weapon.

I fire twice, catching him in the chest. He drops, and I keep moving, trying not to think about what I just did.

The back of the warehouse is divided into smaller rooms. I check each one, finding nothing but supplies and equipment.

No cells. No Gio.

“Finn, three o’clock!” someone shouts to my left.

I turn as a man rises from behind a barrel, his shotgun aimed at my head. Before I can react, his chest explodes in red mist. Kieran stands twenty feet away, his rifle still raised.

“Thanks,” I manage, dipping my chin.

He nods. “Keep moving. We’ve got this covered.”

I continue my search, heart hammering. Where would they keep prisoners? From what Nyx showed me on the security feed she hacked, it’s got to be on the main floor here somewhere.

I reach a narrow hallway and catch sight of a man racing through the door at the end. My vision of the interior is cut off as the door swings shut and he disappears beyond.

On a run, I kick the closed door near the handle. The jamb shatters and the cheap slab crashes open.

Inside is the small, caged cell Nyx and I were watching last night. And inside the cell is a young man chained to a flimsy cot. His face is bruised, his clothes filthy, but there’s no mistaking him for anyone other than—Giovanni Farina.

The guard, Ely Ansler, spins toward me, raising his pistol. I fire first, catching him in the shoulder. He’s thrown off balance and stumbles back but doesn’t drop his weapon. I fire again, and this time he falls. His gun clatters to the floor and slides beneath a metal shelf.

“Gio?” I approach cautiously. “I’m Finn Quinn. Your sister sent me.”

His eyes widen. “Emilia? She’s here?”

I holster my gun and examine the lock on the cell. The keys are hanging from the lock. Whether the guard was going to execute him, try to escape with him, or try to use him as a shield, we’ll never know.

“No. She met with Gravely about an hour ago and we lost track of her. We were already working on getting you out of here, so she made me promise I would free you, no matter what happens to her.”

“Fuck that. She’s no less important.”

I open the door to his cage and find the key to unlock his chains. “I told her exactly the same thing. Can you walk?”

“I think so.” He stands shakily, leaning against the chain of the cage for support. “How did you find me?”

“Your sister’s a marvel.”

“ Si , she is.”

“She’s been forced to help Gravely, who is our enemy, so we made a deal. We promised to find you and free you, and she’ll help us take down Billy Gravely.”

“That sounds like Emilia,” he says with a weak smile. “Always stirring up trouble and making impossible deals.”

I support him as we head back toward the hallway. The gunfire has died down, which means either we’ve won, or we’ve lost. Based on the Dublin Devils I’ve seen in action, I’m betting on the former.

When we reach the main warehouse floor, the fighting is over. Bodies lie scattered among the crates and containers. A scan of their faces tells me they are Gravely’s men, thankfully. The Devils are moving through the space, checking for survivors.

Sean approaches, blood spattered across his face. “You found him.”

I nod. “This is Giovanni Farina. Gio, this is my brother Sean.”

Sean studies him. “Gravely and Nyx?”

“Not here.”

Sean’s jaw tightens. “All right. Kieran, escort my brother and Gio to my SUV. Get them back to the compound so Doc Kelvin can check him out. I’ll catch a ride with Gallagher. The rest of you, search this place top to bottom. Anything valuable, we take. Anything else, we burn.”

“Wait,” Gio says, his voice strained. “There’s no way Emilia wouldn’t be here if she knew you were coming for me. If she’s not here, she’s in danger. Gravely’s been getting suspicious. He thinks she’s working against him.”

My blood runs cold. “Do you have any idea where he’d take her?”

“I don’t. They didn’t talk around me. Sorry, I have no idea.”

I hate this. I hate feeling so helpless when I know she’s out there with Gravely and needs a rescue.

“All right, we’ll take you back to the compound and get you checked out.

While we’re there, I’ll look on your sister’s laptop…

no, she took that with her. Fucking hell. Well, we’ll think of something.”

I turn to Sean. “Let me know if you find anything that might help.”

“I will. In the meantime, let’s make sure Gravely knows we were here.” He raises his voice. “Gallagher! Bring the gasoline. When we’re done, I want this place visible from space.”

Before the men begin dousing the warehouse in fuel, I help Gio outside. The rain is being annoyingly persistent, the midday sun nowhere to be seen.

“We’ll find her,” I tell him, while also trying to convince myself. “If I have to search every fucking building south of the river… we’ll find her.”