Page 51 of Thorns of Deceit

“Iamliving,” I said evenly.

“Is helping your brother-in-law with the Omertà really benefiting us?” I ignored his question. He was out, and he was staying out. Unfortunately, he didn’t take the hint and pressed on. “So, what kind of business are you handling for that charming brute Margaret married?”

I stubbed out my cigarette and rose, straightening my cuffs. “None of your business.”

He chuckled, but I saw the flicker of irritation. “Still blaming me for Raven?”

“Don’t.” My voice came out low and sharp, slicing through the air like a blade.

“You have to put that matter to rest,” he replied softly, almost like he pitied me.

“Yeah, I do,” I said. “Much like you need to put your nose out of the business. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that it was your eagerness to make a profit that killed her.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than the storm pressing against the windows. His smile faltered just a fraction. I caught it. Good.

“It was an accident,” he protested weakly.

“Maybe, but I can’t help but believe that if you hadn’t visited her mother and threatened her that morning, Raven wouldn’t have lingered there. She would have dragged her mother out of there and brought her to me so I could provide for her.”

“You think I wanted that?” he asked in a quieter voice. “She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“No,” I said evenly. “She was with her mother, probably terrified for their safety—because you couldn’t keep your greed in check with the Lyons family.”

Jack sighed, turning his gaze to the skyline. “That Duncan Lyons is a crazy motherfucker.”

“He is,” I snapped. “And you led him right to them. My wife trusted me to protect her. Protect them. And I failed.”

“I did what was necessary for our organization,” he said finally.

For a moment, silence reigned. I could feel the rage simmering just beneath my skin. It was the same rage that had owned me for the past five years.

I took a step closer to him. “And now I’ll do what’s best, and you in the business and the organization won’t be it.”

I saw the twitch in his jaw. “Be careful, nephew. We need to stick together, now more than ever.”

I laughed, bitter and hollow as I moved past him, grabbing my coat.

My pulse was hammering, but I kept my voice even when I said, “I’ve got business to handle. And, Jack?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Next time you come here uninvited, I won’t be so polite.”

I left before he could respond.

The elevator doors shut, sealing him in with his ghosts.

And as the metal descended, I caught my reflection in the mirror. Cold eyes. Sharp suit. No trace of the man Raven liked and possibly could have even loved in the future.

Just another Callahan. Just another monster she’d hate if she were alive.

The bass had reached me before I even opened the doors. It was a deep, slow tune, like a heartbeat I’d been trying to forget.

The red neon sign bled across the wet pavement, flickering like a wound that wouldn’t close. I stood there for a second too long, letting the rain sting my face, trying to convince myself this was just business. But it never was. Not here. Not in this place where everything started.

Velvet Desire had become my brothers’ empire, but it was my own personal hell. I hated coming here, but I pushed through the doors anyway.

The ghost of my wife immediately hit me. Her black hair swung in the hallways that led to the stage while her heels lay discarded in the hallway as she ran toward freedom.