Page 9 of Savage Promises (Quinlan Empire #2)
“Unless you want your old blood spilled on this carpet, make Garrett tell us where the Albanian armory is,” Griffin says, his eyes blades of anger. He sits down across from Richard and drags me into the seat next to him.
“They’ve been stealing from everyone, there’s quite a bounty there, I’m sure,” I add. “Weapons that keep old money safe.”
“You’ll get that information on your wedding day, Shane,” Richard says, looking right at me. “In three months, when Neve turns eighteen.”
Griffin, Connor, and I exchange glances. I swear the room just got colder. The offer of an alliance that will keep our legacy pure is being forged in ice instead of warm blood.
Griffin looks at me. Waiting for my reaction. He knows I don’t want this. I don’t want to marry Neve.
“Are you protecting Garrett or Neve?” I ask.
“Both. They’re both my children.” Richard shakes his head bitterly, like he’s acknowledging how Garrett’s foolishness cost him credibility in the ranks.
I cramp my fingers into fists, pissed that he doesn’t mention Lennox. Maybe it’s best if she’s not part of this. If Richard gets addicted to power, he might kill Rafael Marchant and try to hand Lennox over to someone else next.
“Do we have a deal?” Richard sits forward, tenting his fingers. “It’s what your father wanted, Griffin.”
My brother voices his steely threat. “We want that Albanian armory information before sunrise.”
“You get it as soon as Shane and Neve are married.” Richard wants insurance that I’ll go through with the wedding.
But we have to wait three months until Neve turns eighteen. Which I appreciate. I’m not marrying a fucking seventeen-year-old. And despite what the hell anyone thinks my marriage to her will be like, I’m not fucking an eighteen-year-old either.
“Shane?” Griffin turns to me, wanting to make it seem like I’m agreeing and not being ordered around like an underling. Even when I am.
“Aye.” I can’t fucking believe this is happening.
Richard raises his glass in a toast. “Here’s to making the right choice, Griffin. And you as well, Shane.”
I glance at Connor, whose expression is hidden in the wake of being called an animal and not good enough to marry Neve. But he is raw, brutal, and primal. Fuck, Richard had me pegged all along as a better symbol of the combined power. With his daughter as my wife.
Richard’s unsaid promise screams that if I’m married to Neve, he and Garrett will clean up their fucking act. Richard knows what Garrett did would have gotten anyone else a death sentence.
My gaze locks on Richard. This isn’t loyalty. This is a game of survival. I don’t trust him. Deep down, I know one thing: Donnelly isn’t just offering an alliance. He’s offering a tightrope where his grimy hands hold the end—an end he thinks he can overturn at any time.
And bring Quinlan Empire crashing to the ground.
Richard continues with a raised glass. “And so, the empire unites. No more bad blood between us.”
“You think what you got here is an empire?” Connor waves his hands around.
“Our name still means something,” Richard bites out.
The emperor has no clothes , for sure.
“Bring Garrett in here,” Griffin says, and looks like he wants to be home with his wife.
I need to finish this. I want the fuck out of here, too.
Poorly dressed, battered, and bruised, Garrett is led in by Rhys. “Dad,” he mutters.
“It’s okay, son. I’ve made it all go away.”
I bristle because we’ve been given little choice. “Garrett, did you meet with any other Albanians except the ones we killed?” I ask him point blank.
Garrett pinches the bridge of his sore nose, whimpering in pain. “No.”
“We’re going to blame this on the Italians.” I turn to Rhys. “Find two low-level guys, bring them to where we killed the Albanians, and kill them, too. Stage it as a random shootout. A deal gone bad. I’ll use that phone I swiped to message their kyre once you’ve taken care of it.”
Griffin puts a hand on my arm. “That’s my call, Shane.”
“Do you disagree?”
“No.” Griffin smiles at me, agreeing like I knew he would. “That will start a war between the Albanians and the Italians.”
“And keep them occupied and out of our damn business,” I add.
“Distracted,” Connor growls.
“And in need of more weapons.” I calculate everything in my head. “Their armory will soon be stocked even more.”
“And in three months, you’ll have that location.” Richard eyes his son. “Not one day before. ”
I stand up, breaking into the father-son eye contact.
“Donnelly, both of you, listen up. I’m only going to say this once. I will not be fucked with.” I refuse to hide my anger. “This is personal. You’re forcing me into a marriage deal, but I will handle every aspect of it.”
Griffin studies me with what I believe is awe, while Richard watches me with cold eyes.
“What happens to Garrett until the wedding?” Richard asks Griffin and not me. A dig, but I’m not fragile.
Griffin is in charge.
“He stays in our safehouse. Under lock and key.” My brother means chains but doesn’t voice it. “You want the delay, that delay will keep your son locked up.”
“Dad!” Garrett protests.
“Shut up,” his father hisses, probably hating how he looks like he’s not in control of his family.
Richard Donnelly wants me to marry Neve because he thinks Connor is too rough, too untamed. I want to keep her father as unsettled as possible. I reach into my coat and remove a throwing knife from the inside pocket.
Before anyone takes another breath, I pitch the blade right at Richard’s head.
“Fuck,” he ducks, hitting the floor, his chair skittering into the wall.
The knife sits lodged in the center of a painting behind him. Just a hair above where his head was. Exactly where I planned.
Richard sits up and looks at the knife sticking out of the canvas. “How dare you! This is a priceless—”
“Send me the bill.” I stand up. “That blade was never going to kill you. It was meant to introduce you to who I really am. What I’m capable of. You wanted me? This is who your daughter will be marrying.”
I walk behind the desk and yank the knife from the wall. Twirling it in my fingers, I turn to sit back down, but the golden eyes staring at me from the office doorway stop my heart.