He’d been studying his two sons, trying to gauge who showed more authority and leadership.
“The Irish have been trying to venture out of Hell’s Kitchen for years, and they need us content and unbothered. Politics, after all, is the art of the possible. You’re another story, though.” Achilles snatched a waitress who strutted in his periphery, cementing her into his lap with a slap to her ass. “Tiernan would love nothing more than to add your skull to his collection.”
“We all have dreams and aspirations,” I drawled. “Underestimating your enemy is a great recipe for getting killed.”
Luca scanned me ruefully. “They’re a sizable organization. And they have connections. The daughter, Tierney, is friends with First Lady Francesca Keaton.”
“How does that give them an edge?” I pleated my brow.
“Tierney’s the type of social butterfly that makes shit happen, and Keaton is a sitting president. You could be blacklisted out of most places if she decides to be petty.”
“He won’t be blacklisted,” the brawny errand boy who gave Luca and Achilles the documents the other day said simply. Filippo was sitting next to Achilles, but he did not play. “They’ll try to kill him. It’ll give them street cred.”
“Agreed.” Achilles jerked his chin. “Offing a rich, powerful guy? Fucking jackpot. The news would be all over it.”
“I have security up the wazoo.” I gestured to the two bodyguards manning the door, who were standing very close to the Ferrantes’ own security detail. “Doubt they have the stamina to jump through all the hoops necessary to reach me.”
“And you don’t care much either way,” Vello observed in his thick Italian accent.
“No,” I agreed.
Life was a temporary inconvenience. Though I enjoyed good food, good liquor, and good pussy, I didn’t fear death.
“But you have a future wife to think about now,” Vello pointed out. “She’ll need security too.”
“My future wife has nothing to do with this.”
Luca shook his head. “Once she becomes your family, she is fair game. You need to make sure she is secured twenty-four seven. We can assign Filippo as her bodyguard. He’s our best.”
A better man would relieve Gia of her commitment.
Let her go.
Set her free.
Too bad I wasn’t that man.
Nonetheless, I could think of plenty of ideas I liked more than pairing her up with a six-five Italian stud. For instance, ripping out my own testicles and using them as a shower cap.
“No, thank you.”
“I’m gay,” Filippo said, reading my thoughts. “She’ll be safe with me.”
“I never pegged her to be dumb enough or you suicidal enough to cross that line.” I offered him a mocking smile. “Fine.” I tossed an impatient hand. “I’ll have her guarded by Filippo and your men. I want them around my building, around my apartment, around her room,insideher room. I want them every-fucking-where she goes. Understood?”
They exchanged wry looks.
“Are you catching feelings, Blackthorn?” Luca asked.
“Au contraire.” I snarled. “I know how much she loathes the idea of marrying me. Death would be a punishment too light for what she did to me.”
Achilles tugged the waitress’s top down, examining her bare tits as you would a piece of raw steak before tossing it onto the grill. “I’d ask what she did, but life’s too short to pretend to give a shit.” He pushed the woman off his lap, waving her away. She didn’t make the cut.
“Do you have the Callaghans’ ear?” I asked.
“And their other bodily parts, if we wish to own them.” Achilles smirked.
“I want you to relay this message to them.” I leaned forward. “I am a man of infinite darkness and no shadow. If they so much as breathe in my wife’s direction, forget touch,breathe, Hell’s Kitchen will earn its name. Their businesses will be demolished, their women raped and slaughtered, their children sold off to the highest fucking bidder. It’ll make the Battle of Towton look like child’s play. I will take no prisoners. There’s no red line I wouldn’t cross. They better remember that.”
