Page 8 of Savage Promises (Quinlan Empire #2)

Shane

I ’m summoned to Griffin’s townhouse. Just me. Rhys has Garrett tied up in his trunk again. A form of confinement my psycho cousin has taken a shine to.

Griffin brings me into the parlor where a fire crackles, shadows dancing along the mahogany-paneled walls. Rain drums lightly against the tall windows. The storm outside is a dangerous echo of the one brewing in my chest.

My brother pours two glasses of whiskey into crystal tumblers and hands one to me without a word.

The glass feels heavy in my hand, heavier than it should. Like everything since Richard’s offer. “Thank you. I think.”

Griffin watches me closely, leaning against the fireplace. “You’re welcome. Are you going to say something?”

I roll the glass between my palms. “I’m thinking.”

Griffin snorts. “You’re brooding. There’s a difference.”

“Glad you noticed,” I say to be a brat.

“Unless we kill Garrett and Richard, they will continue to be a thorn in our side.”

“You married the enemy. Are Ava’s brothers no longer a thorn in yours?”

“The Zervases were never our enemies, Shane. They were Troi Keller’s enemy.”

We inherited our syndicate through our mother, the lone descendent of the Sullivan family who reigned before Troi Keller.

With no heirs to inherit his house, Troi’s lawyer Kai Powers found Griffin and declared he was the heir.

But Griffin had to marry the head of the Greek Mafia’s sister to make peace with her psycho brothers, Ares, Atlas, and Ambrose Zervas.

“I hear Richard told you it was Da’s wish that we unite with the Donnellys,” Griffin says point blank.

I scoff. “And I wanted to kick him in the teeth for suggesting something so ludicrous that...” I watch in horror as Griffin turns to take something off the mantle. “Griff, no.”

He removes an item from a leather-bound box, a box we called Da’s secrets. It sat on the bookshelf in his office for as long as I could remember. Now Griffin has it.

“We all got these as you know.” He holds up an envelope. “This is mine.”

We were already running Lower Manhattan when Da passed. He knew the power Griffin had.

He offers the letter to me. I open and scan it, bypassing anything personal Da would have said to Griffin. Bile creeps into my throat seeing the name Donnelly.

“Fuck, it’s true. Da wanted us to unite with them. Why?”

Griffin’s voice gets low. “Irish power. Pure , Irish power.”

My eyes raise to him. “Was Da disappointed you married a Greek princess?”

He shakes his head. “He understood I needed to stop the war so we could have a successful reign. But going forward...”

“He wants us with Irish women.” I dump my head into my hands.

“I do, too.” Griffin takes a stand. “What does Garrett know about the Albanians? What the hell kind of deal am I making for your soul, Shane?”

I shudder at the implication that marrying Neve Donnelly will suck the soul from my body, but pull it together enough to explain to Griffin what Connor and I think might be in the Albanian armory.

Scrubbing a hand down the back of his neck, Griffin mutters, “That armory location is also a golden get-out-of-jail free ticket with the Feds should we ever get into hot water.”

“I will never let us get into trouble like that,” I insist.

“Life is just too unpredictable right now, Shane.” Griffin sits next to me and cups my shoulder. “I did my duty for the empire. Now it’s your turn.”

“At the expense of my...” I’m unable to finish.

“Your heart? Do you have one, brother?” Griffin sits back.

“Not for Neve Donnelly.”

Griffin furrows his eyebrows and speaks so low, it’s barely a whisper. “You know Lennox is engaged to someone else, right?”

My jaw tightens so hard it might crack. I grip the whiskey tumbler and stand up, throwing it into the fireplace. “Fuck. Who? ”

How did I not know that?

“Rafael Marchant.”

“Marchant?” I scoff. “The wine dynasty? When?”

Christ, no. She’s mine!

“When he gets his inheritance next year.”

“That’s why old man Donnelly didn’t suggest Lennox.” Saying her name rips my heart out.

“Richard was so desperate to save Garrett he thinks the deal with us requires a virginal sacrifice,” Griffin says, shaking his head.

I close my eyes and mutter, “A virgin.” Like that’s what I want in my bed.

I want to throw up.

“It is the way of this life we chose, Shane.” Griffin leans forward. “I saw how you used to look at Lennox growing up. I was right there, brother. Are you okay that she’ll be your sister-in-law?”

“I already should be handed a fucking Academy Award after I was told to stay away from her. Have I not acted like I don’t care about her? What’s another fifty years of misery?” I walked away from Lennox and shut down my heart.

But this, this is a fresh cut on an old wound.

Griffin’s face falls. “Lennox left for school and you never mentioned her.”

“Da made it pretty clear, we weren’t to marry anyone named Donnelly.” I pace the room, feeling rage ready to overtake me.

“That was then. This is now.” Griffin waves the envelope. “Look, I know this sits wrong with you because of your unresolved feelings for Lennox.”

I meet his gaze with a sharp steely one of my own.

“Enough with Lennox.” Why talk about the woman I can’t fucking have?

I don’t want to see her, smell her, taste her, or remember that she exists.

“You think tying myself to the Donnellys fixes everything? Like that doesn’t make us vulnerable to more of Richard’s manipulation? ”

“No.” Griffin doesn’t flinch. “Not when his daughter has our name. And is at our mercy.”

“I’d never hurt a woman. Especially Neve. She’s young and innocent.” My stomach knots tighter, however, at the idea of marrying an eighteen-year-old.

Silence stretches out, and only the sound of rain fills my ears.

“No big wedding. No fucking show,” I whisper.

“All we care about is that Richard witnesses us take his princess. That’s the part of the knife we twist.” Griffin runs a hand through his shaggy hair. “And the word will spread to those who dare to think they can cross us.”

“I’m not sleeping with Lennox’s sister.” The thought alone sickens me. “I can’t. ”

Griffin leans back on the sofa and laughs. “Don’t you recall I said the same thing about Ava? Now I have two sons sleeping peacefully upstairs, and I’ve never been happier.”

“It’s not the same. Ava was your past. You got a do-over.” I kick an ottoman over.

Griffin’s voice drops lower, more dangerous. “This is a game of survival now, Shane. Heck, by you marrying Neve, you’ll bear the first pure-blood children of the empire. You could make me kneel to you .”

“That’s not going to happen, Griff. We’re one. We’ve always been one,” I say our family motto, my pulse a steady drum against my jugular.

Griffin smiles, rubbing his knuckles. “The more this sinks in, the more it feels right. Marrying Neve isn’t just a union, it’s Donnelly’s ultimate surrender. To us. A symbol that they will never rise above us.”

Griffin stands up and wraps his arms around me in a bear hug.

“Jesus, Griff,” I say, standing stiff in his embrace.

“I love you, and I trust you. You’ll make this work.” He steps back, giving me space, but his final words linger like smoke. “This isn’t just a move, Shane. It’s checkmate. The only question is, are you willing to play?”

TEN MINUTES LATER, we drive to Astoria. And I mean all of us. Griffin, his two guards, Connor, Trace, Rhys, Blade, Jett, and a caravan of eight empire guards like it’s a fucking presidential motorcade.

Show of force, indeed.

Richard Donnelly’s crappy little house, a few doors down from my childhood home, hasn’t changed. Rhys drags Garrett up the front steps. He’s barely conscious, blood staining his collar, but he’s alive.

The door opens before we can knock. Richard stands there, his face a mask of barely controlled rage. “Give me my son!”

Connor shoves Garrett forward. “Just know, we can come back for him any time.”

Richard’s eyes narrow, but he steps aside to let us in.

It’s the house that time forgot. Not a damn thing has changed.

The stone fireplace looks unused, but the mantle holds family photos.

Richard and Kay’s wedding photo and then a few of a younger Garrett, but many of Neve in some athletic setting.

Golden award statues and blue ribbons lie strewn around, too, like it’s a fucking shrine.

To Neve. With one sole picture of Lennox: her high school graduation photo.

My chest tightens.

Richard breaks into my thoughts. “Let’s talk in my office.”

“Rhys, stay with Garrett,” Griffin orders.

“Aye, cousin.” He roughly sits Garrett down on the sofa, a gun pointed at his head.

Richard seems to bristle at his son being left in the hands of a Quinlan assassin. But he doesn’t have much of a choice.

We follow old man Donnelly down a dimly lit paneled hallway. More family photos hang on the wall in a random order. I don’t look at them, not wanting to see any more reminders of Lennox.

The office is small and messy as hell. Richard immediately starts pouring whiskeys. Griffin takes one. I refuse. Connor waits for one and shakes his head when he’s not offered. I drove myself here in my Corvette and plan to drive myself the fuck out of here as soon as I can.

I consider coming back later to kill Richard. Only, these fucking capos have suicide pacts. Our reign is new. We’re still getting a handle on things.

Richard sits at an old chipped desk and leans back in his cracked leather chair with ease. Inconsistent with the corner he’s drawn himself into. He swirls the pungent amber liquid in his glass, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling mixture of charm and menace.

“You know there’s nothing more precious to a father than his daughter?” he begins, his voice smooth with the unmistakable edge of authority. “We’re both old blood. Old money in this city.”