My palms are sweating again.
Now I’ve got to wear a damn tuxedo and schmooze with who knows how many people. People who may have nothing to do with the mole. I just want to get back to the real work, because this seems like a colossal waste of time.
I’m the spymaster, not thespy.
“Catching a mole is like forcing a mouse out of the walls and into the house…where you’ve got a shotgun waiting. Finn and Cian will be here with the shotgun.” Shane walks to the door but stops before leaving to meet my and Darren’s stares. “Go to the auction and flush out the mouse. Bring back a prize.”
Chapter 3
Rory
How did they even find this place?
As I enter the main section of the auction venue, I try not to be too awed by this cavernous geode of a venue that could double as the subject of aNational Geographicspecial. Purple-black crystals and gemstones sparkle in the walls and along the ceiling a hundred feet overhead.
Guests in white ties perch on balconies that jut out at irregular intervals around the tiered room. Thick and thin candles line the meandering walkways and tunnels that lead to the various lookout areas above and around the main floor.
The main floor is where the action is: gourmet food stations; wait staff floating around with deconstructed crab cakes in cocktail glasses; the high, standing tables where auction-goers lean and whisper; and on the far side of the floor, a grand stage.
Well-groomed men in expensive suits circulate and mingle. The handful of women in attendance don’t reflect the formal dress code for men and wear skimpy black dresses as they fawn over their companions. Mistresses, or possibly even hookers. Not wives. A beady-eyed announcer stands behind a podium with a knowing smile on his face, scanning the crowd as attendees inspect the various auction items.
“Any sign of him?” I speak low and quick into the microphone hidden in the bow tie around my neck.
After a moment of silence, Darren’s gravelly voice comes through. “Not yet.”
“I’ll check the bathroom, see if I hear anything.”
Darren’s somewhere in the bowels of this place, trying to secure an easy exit for us in the event that we manage to walk out of here with Leo De Luca’s prized possession, whatever it may be. We’re both keeping an eye out for the fuckface in question, but so far, he’s been elusive.
We know he’s here somewhere.
I bank left down a small ramp that leads toward a sign that readsGentlemen. Every time I see that word, I want to laugh. As though any of the men here know anything about being gentle, myself included.
If any one of these assholes here tonight recognized me, I wouldn’t hesitate to dig my thumbs into their eye sockets until their eyeballs popped, the jelly of them oozing out with the blood. And just like that, they’d never see again.
Gentlemen, my ass.
A lanky attendant stationed outside the men’s room pulls the door open for me with a flourish, and I stride into the palatial washroom on the other side, listening for voices.
Nothing.
This mole business has been swirling through my mind ever since we first discovered the leak’s existence. It’s a cancer diagnosis with an uncertain prognosis. Can we cut out the tumor? Or has the sickness metastasized into our organization’s bones? Will we survive, or are we already dead?
No matter which way I slice it, this mole, whoever they are, must be motivated by the promise of power. They must believe that bringing down Shane will topple the rest of the Kings and carve out a hole for them to fill.
They don’t call Shane GallagherOld Bulletprooffor nothing, but maybe the mole’s plan isn’t to kill Shane but to shred his reputation. Getting the ranks to turn their backs on him, to lose confidence in his leadership and his choice in Finn as the next head, would be enough to build a coup on.
Theory after theory, angle after angle boggles around for space in my mind.
If I’m right and the moleissomeone in Shane’s upper echelon, that means the one who’s been betraying us all these months—hell, maybe they’ve been at this foryears—is someone I know well.
At first, I couldn’t understand why Shane wouldn’t want to lead the mole hunt himself. This isn’t the first time the Kings have experienced this type of problem, and Shane was part of uncovering the treachery in the past, or so the story goes.
But Shane’s reason for staying out of this has become clear. As his successor, Finn needs to learn who stands by him and who doesn’t if he wants to have any hope of running the Kings successfully, and a mole hunt will reveal exactly that.
Everyone—Kings, De Lucas, and mobs everywhere in between—is watching Finn, hoping to pre-judge the outcome of this war. They want to evaluate the strength of our family. Finn’s reputation as the future leader of this organization will be born in this turbulent time.
When Cian and Finn aren’t concerned with work, they’re knee-deep in pussy. Did I say pussy? I meantpre-marital bliss. By comparison, Darren and I don’t have shit going on, so naturally, I assumed Shane would call us to the front line first.
