Page 18 of Savage Promises
“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 theirkyreonce you’ve taken care of it.”
Griffin puts a hand on my arm. “That’smycall, 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 willnotbe fucked with.” I refuse to hidemyanger. “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.
Griffinisin 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. WhatI’mcapable of. You wantedme? Thisis who your daughter will be marrying.”
