Page 97 of Dublin Charmer

“This isn’t Tag’s dirty work,” Sean replies. “I fought to be the one to win this honor—of ending you—you sorry piece of shit. This is for everything you and Mattie did to Piper. For betraying her family. For just being a festering disease in our fucking city.”

Gravely’s eyes dart around, looking for an escape that doesn’t exist. “What do you want? An apology? It’s the nature of the business. It’s what we do.”

“It’s not whatwedo,” Sean says simply.

Gravely changes tactics, desperation creeping into his voice. “Fine, let’s reinstate the truce and run this city together. No more fighting. We’ll honor our territories and split it down the middle.”

Sean laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You still don’t get it, do you? This war has never been about territory.”

“Then what?” Gravely snarls.

“Family and protecting innocents and honor among criminals,” Sean answers. “None of which you understand.”

Sean raises his gun.

Beside me, Nyx’s hand finds mine, squeezing tight. “Finn, cut the CCTV.”

With my free hand, I execute the command to disable all surveillance and video feeds within a half-mile radius.

“We’re dark,” I say. “No evidence. No witnesses. Just justice.”

We watch the body cam live stream as Sean steps closer to Gravely. “Burn in hell, asshole.”

Three shots echo through our headsets, and Gravely crumples to the ground.

“Bastard down,” Sean reports, his voice steady. “The world is a better place.”

A collective exhale seems to pass through the comms. The tension that’s been building for weeks—months, even—suddenly releases.

“Everyone good?” Tag asks.

My brothers check in. All safe.

The McGuire brothers too.

Even Vega and his men have been secured and sent on their way.

Nyx leans back in her chair, her eyes meeting mine. There’s relief there, but something else too. A shadow.

“What’s the look? It’s over. We did it.”

She nods, but her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Si, we did.”

Like a blow to my sternum, it hits me, and I understand her melancholy. This victory means our time is coming to an end. Gio will want to leave now that the threat is eliminated.

The thought sits like lead in my stomach.

“Standard clean-up protocol,” Tag says. “Gallagher, your team has the honors. Devils, we thank you, as always. Brothers, rendezvous at the compound in one hour.”

I start the process of erasing our digital footprint. Beside me, Nyx does the same, methodically removing any trace of our presence in the systems we’ve infiltrated.

“Dock cameras?” she asks.

“I’ve got them looped,” I confirm. “By the time everyone gets in tomorrow, the cleanup crew will be long gone, and no one will be any the wiser.”

We work in comfortable synchronicity, our hands occasionally brushing as we reach for the same keyboard or toggle the same switch. Each touch feels precious now, numbered.

“You know,” I say casually, trying to keep my voice light, “we make a good team.”