Page 22 of Lovely Venom

“And? Where do I sign to make it mine?” I motion for a pen and catch Valdrin covering a laugh with his big hands.

Noel sneers at Valdrin, who steps back. “Not so fast. You need to earn this money.”

Panic swims in my veins. “How?”

Noel smiles. “I need someone dead.”

My heart skips a beat. “By me?”

“Yes, you.” Noel leans forward. “Have you ever killed someone?”

“No.” I consider the number of people I shot at or stabbed on an op, but they wanted me dead.

No one died by my hand.

“You are of Levin’s blood. It should come naturally,” Noel says. “Taking out the enemy.”

“Yourenemy,” I point out.

“Quinlan Empire isourenemy,” Valdrin clarifies, standing behind Noel.

I wrinkle my nose. The name doesn’t register. “Who?”

“Irish Mob. Lower East Side,” Noel says through gritted teeth, disdain dripping in his tone.

I forgot Valdrin mentioned the Irish. A lot of truths, details, and confessions got shoved down my throat today.

Irish. Lower East Side. Something clicks. “Do they work for Troi Keller?”

Valdrin smiles. “You’ve been focused on the Colombians a little obsessively, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” I snap. “It was my job. And I didn’t murder any of them.”

Holy shit, can I do this?

Crap.

A rush of excitement floods my veins. The side of me that I had to hold back is welcome here. Now I understand why the thirst for vengeance lives in my soul and the driveto take down an enemy keeps me up at night.

I push away the guilt of how I wanted to pull the trigger so often. Those cartels and other mafia scumbags have million-dollar lawyers and abuse our justice system. It’s why I had a hard time with the agency, following rules, and having to shrug off getting clipped at the knees after stupid technicalities wrecked our cases.

Usually from my recklessness.

Irish Mob...

“You want to kill Troi Keller?” I ask to get out of my head.

“Troi Keller died nearly two years ago,” Valdrin gently informs me. “A former hitman named Griffin Quinlan, who was related to Troi’s wife, was named the heir. He now rules that territory.”

“What about the Greeks? Keller and the Zervas brothers are at war.”

“Not anymore,” Valdrin keeps filling me in, because I don’t think Noel has the patience. “Griffin Quinlan married Ares Zervas’s sister, Ava. They are at peace and aligned.”

“And growing in power,” Noel says resentfully. “Your father and I were hoping to widen the crack after Troi died without a solid heir. But we were too late.”

“You want to kill Griffin Quinlan? Theheadof the Irish Mob?” I scoff. “Are you insane? You don’t killa don. Every other don will retaliate. Out of principle.”

Noel smiles. “You understand our laws.”