Page 35

THIRTY-ONE

emmanuel

It’s been three days since Ava died and today was the day we laid her to rest. I wasn’t surprised by the turnout of people who were in attendance, but what did surprise me was Freddie didn’t turn up.

That man is in pain. He’s fucking hurting and I get it.

If anything happened to Clodagh, I’d lose my shit.

But not going to her funeral, that’s something I’m not sure I could ever live with. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.

“How’s Callie?” Jer asks Denis. Ava was her best friend. They had been friends since they were kids.

Denis sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. "She's devastated. Barely eating, hardly sleeping. Ava was like a sister to her."

"Any word from Freddie?" Maverick asks, his voice low.

Stephen shakes his head. "Nothing. He's gone completely off the grid. I'm worried about him."

"He'll turn up," Jer says, though he doesn't sound entirely convinced. "Right now, we need to focus on finding out who's behind this."

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "What do we know so far?"

Maverick pulls out a folder, spreading some papers on the coffee table. "Not much. The bullet casings from both Ava and Hustler's murders match, confirming it's the same shooter. The Ace of Hearts calling card was left at both scenes."

"And the connection to the Syndicate?" I prompt.

Jer nods grimly. "It's there, but it's tenuous. We've got what Michael told us. He was working with those Harrington bastards. But we have no known Syndicate members entering the country over the past month. We have no idea who the fuck took out Ava or Hustler."

"What about Ava's time in Boston?" Stephen asks. "Any leads there?"

Denis shakes his head. "Callie doesn't know much. Ava was pretty tight-lipped about her new guy. All we know is that he was somehow connected to the business world there."

I frown, something not sitting right with me. "It's too clean," I mutter. "Professional hits, no traces left behind, a calling card that's meant to taunt us... This isn't just about revenge or territory. This is personal."

The room falls silent as everyone processes my words.

"You're right," Maverick says finally. "This feels like someone's playing a game with us. But why? What's the endgame here?"

I shake my head. That’s just it, we’re missing the crucial piece of information. Once again, we have no fucking idea what the hell is going on.

Denis’ cell rings and I watch as his body tightens. “Makenna, what’s happened?”

I watch as his eyes narrow and he inhales sharply. “I’m putting you on speakerphone. Repeat what you just told me.”

“Last night, Stefan was taken out. He saw something and pushed me to the ground. He took a bullet to the chest. Fuckers left a calling card. Want to have a guess what was left?”

“A bloodied Ace of Hearts,” Jer snarls. “Are you okay?”

“Grand,” she replies, her words sharp and barely controlled. “But my husband is beyond furious and he travelled to Boston this morning. He, along with Romero and Finn, were ready to take out the entire Syndicate.”

“Why didn’t they?” I ask. If someone tried to take out Clodagh, they’d be six feet under.

“Well, when Dante and the others arrived, there was uproar. You see, we weren’t the only ones targeted. Beatrice Mariano took a bullet between the eyes while she was standing on her doorstep. The Syndicate is ready to tear the world down.”

“Tell them to fucking join the club,” Denis growls. “Did they have the calling card?”

“Yes,” Makenna replies. “And, gentlemen, the Mariano family are ready for war. They want whoever did this and they want to go at them.”

Yeah, I don’t see that fucking happening. Whoever the hell this bastard is, they’ve targeted too many of our families. They want to go at him? Join the motherfucking queue.

"Fuck," Maverick growls, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This is getting out of hand. We've got bodies dropping left and right and no fucking clue who's behind it."

I nod grimly in agreement. "Makenna, tell Hayden and the others to sit tight. We need to coordinate on this, not go off half-cocked."

"Easier said than done," Makenna replies, her voice tight. "These men are out for blood. But I'll do my best to keep them in check."

"Good," Jer says. "We'll be in touch soon with a plan. For now, everyone needs to stay alert and watch their backs."

After we hang up, the room falls into a tense silence.

"So what now?" Stephen asks, voicing what we're all thinking.

Jer sighs heavily. "We keep digging. Someone has to know something.

Denis, get Melissa on it—have her dig deeper into Ava's time in Boston.

Stephen, reach out to your contacts in law enforcement, see if they've heard any chatter.

Maverick, you and I will go through every piece of intel we have on the Syndicate, see if we can find any connections we might have missed. "

"What about me?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

Jer's eyes meet mine. "You stay close to the women. Keep them safe. And be ready—when we find whoever's behind this, we'll need your skills."

I nod, a grim determination settling over me. Whoever is doing this, they've made a grave mistake. They've threatened my family, my soon-to-be wife, my unborn child. And for that, they'll pay dearly.

As I head upstairs to check on Clodagh, I can't shake the feeling that we're missing something crucial. Something that's right in front of us, but we just can't see it yet. And I pray to whatever God might be listening that we figure it out before anyone else gets hurt.

She’s sitting on the bed, staring out the window, when I enter the room. She looks so fucking lost, so frightened. I fucking hate this shit.

"Hey, baby," I say softly, sitting beside her and pulling her into my arms. Fuck, this is where she belongs. Right where she belongs. "How are you holding up?"

She leans into me. It never fails to humble me how much faith she has in me. We started off rocky, but since the age of sixteen, she’s had faith in me. She knows I’d never let any harm come to her. I fucking love that. "I'm okay. Just... scared, I guess. And sad for Ava's family. For Freddie."

I nod. I get it. It’s such a fucking shit situation, but we’re going to fucking figure it out. I press a kiss to her temple. "I know, baby. We're going to find out who did this. I promise you that."

She looks up at me, her eyes filled with love. "Did you find out anything new?"

I grit my teeth and take a deep breath. Do I want to tell her about what happened in America? No, she’s under enough stress as it is. “Nothing yet. We’re hoping we’ll uncover something soon.”

She releases a ragged breath and nods against my chest. As Clodagh rests against my chest, I gently stroke her hair, trying to offer what comfort I can. I hate seeing her like this—scared and uncertain. It goes against every protective instinct I have.

"I wish there was more I could do," Clodagh says softly. "I feel so helpless just sitting here while everyone else is working to solve this."

I press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're doing plenty, baby. You're keeping our little one safe. That's the most important job right now."

She nods, her hand coming to rest on her still-flat stomach. "I know. I just... I hate feeling like a burden."

"Hey," I say firmly, tilting her chin up to look at me. "You are not a burden. You're my everything, Clodagh. You and our baby. Keeping you safe isn't a chore; it's my purpose."

Tears well up in her eyes and she buries her face in my chest. I hold her close, wishing I could take away all her fears and worries.

After a while, Clodagh's breathing evens out and I realize she's fallen asleep. Carefully, I lay her down on the bed and pull the covers over her. I press a soft kiss to her forehead before quietly leaving the room.

As I head back downstairs, my mind is racing. We need to solve this, and fast. Not just for our sake, but for the sake of all our families. For Clodagh and our unborn child.

I rejoin the others in the living room, all of whom look ready for war. Good, we’re going to need them like this. The second we have the details of whoever’s behind this, the sooner I can end them and make sure our women are safe.

“Anything?” I ask, my voice rough.

"Nothing concrete yet," Jer replies, frustration evident in his voice. "But we've got people working every angle. Something's got to break soon."

Maverick nods in agreement. "Melissa's digging deeper into Ava's time in Boston. If there's anything to find, she'll uncover it."

"And my contacts in law enforcement are on high alert," Stephen adds. "They'll let us know if they hear even a whisper about this."

I run a hand through my hair. Christ, this is so fucking frustrating. "We need to move faster. Every minute we waste is another minute this bastard has to plan their next move."

"We're doing everything we can," Denis says, his voice tight with anger. "But whoever this is, they're good. They've managed to hit targets on both sides of the Atlantic without leaving a trace."

"Which means they have resources," Jer muses. "And connections. This isn't some small-time operation."

My mind races as I try to piece together the puzzle. "What if... what if it's not the Syndicate at all? What if someone's using them as a smokescreen?"

The room falls silent as everyone considers this possibility.

"It's possible," Maverick says slowly. "But who would have that kind of reach? That level of skill?"

I shake my head. “I don’t know, but it has to be someone who has a grudge against us and the Syndicate.”

Nothing is making sense. We’re back at square one with no fucking answers. Fuck. This shit just gets worse as each day passes.

It’s a waiting game, waiting for information, waiting for them to make a mistake, all the while waiting for them to take out their next target.