Page 42 of Revenge
“You do that.” Angus follows Cillian to the door. “What did he want?” I ask Oliver.
“Who knows what his true intentions were. He wanted to look around. Look at the operation.”
“What game is he playing?” I mutter to myself.
“I suspect playing spy for our father. But I have a feeling it’s more than that. He has his own agenda.” Oliver answers, even though I wasn’t asking him. Does he know something I don’t?
“Double security. I want a bug sweep daily. No one who isn’t authorized is to be here.” I head for my office.
“How are you doing?” he asks, following me.
“I want to be left alone,” I say, closing the door in his face behind me.
It’s been a few hours of working. Cillian’s visit unsettled me. He wanted something, and I don’t believe the visit was at my father’s request. This feels personal. Between him and my father, I swear I’m getting ulcers. I push my chair back, ready to call it a day.
Leaving my office, I’m welcomed by double the men than when I came in. These men are my brothers, recruited to stand by me. Oliver is speaking to Angus.
“I’ll be in the apartment,” I say as I reach them.
“Do you want company?” Oliver asks.
“Call if you need me. I want to be left to my own thoughts.”
“I understand. I’ll call you if anything happens.”
I nod and start walking.
Outside, I get in my car, ready to find control. Without a destination in mind, I drive. There’s something about the open road—it’s quiet, almost peaceful. Nothing troubles me there.
Out of nowhere, a black SUV pulls beside me. I know what’s coming. I’ve done it countless times myself. The first bullet strikes the glass, but it slows and doesn’t pierce the window. One of Oliver’s latest ideas was to put bulletproof glass in all our vehicles. At the time, I deemed it unnecessary.
“I don’t see the point.”
“It’s not your job to see the point. It’s mine. Besides, it’s already done. After the incident with Ava, I didn’t want to take any chances.” I nod in agreement.
I’ve never been more grateful for my brother. I begin to maneuver as more bullets fly. Another SUV pulls up on my other side. They’re trying to pin me between them, but I won’t go down without a fight. I increase my speed, and both SUVs try to match me. I abruptly swerve at one of them and hit the brakes, making the SUV on my right lose control. I try to see inside, but the windows are too tinted. With momentum, I hit the gas and gain distance. I look in the mirror, and the second SUV does not follow me. As much as I want to turn back and empty my clip, I’m not stupid. I’m outnumbered. On the next street, I double back to Eros and dial Oliver.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Are you still at the club?”
“Yes. Why? What’s going on?”
“Someone just tried to kill me. I’m doubling back. Lockdown Eros.” I end the call.
In all my years, I’ve never experienced multiple attacks back-to-back. I’ve accumulated many enemies, more than most people. I’ve been ruthless and have a body count that would get me a lethal injection in some states. But this shit is something else entirely. I’m being attacked from all angles, through my business and personal life. I thought this was about the Manarch name, but it isn’t. This is about me. There’s no doubt in my mind that someone wants me dead. My money’s on Cillian, but I won’t rule out my father. He might want me dead too.
Outside Eros, a dozen men are scattered on the sidewalk, at the entrance, and in the parking lot. I pull up and turn off the engine. My car has seen better days. I throw the keys to the nearest person as Oliver approaches me.
“What the fuck? Are you good?” he asks, running his hand through his hair.
I enter, only stopping when I get to the bar. I grab a bottle and pour.
“Talk,” Oliver barks.
“What do you want me to say?” I take a shot and pour another.
“Who attacked you? What happened?”
