by Dee, Cara
“Judging by your smirk, I’m guessing yes,” Eric chuckled. “Is it the Bisset brothers?”
“Aye.” I clapped him on the shoulder and turned to the others. Kellan, Liam, Emilia, Luna, Lachlan, and Mack. “The car is to be delivered to the registered engine bay at the event, so it’s safe to say it’s bait.”
“Bait for what?” Luna asked, confused.
“For customers,” I answered. “Bait is a high-end car you’ve obtained legally, usually a rare edition or a concept car, and you put it on display at smaller events to attract buyers who aren’t interested in making legal purchases.” I jerked my chin at Liam. “We’ve had Liam’s Chrysler on display at a few events when we’ve had cars to sell.”
He was the only one in the family who owned a concept car that he had the papers for, and it wasn’t a very beautiful cage, but it got the job done. It attracted sellers from the Middle East and Asia at every show.
“That was before you shot up two of my Gallardos,” he muttered bitterly.
I couldn’t blame him for struggling to get past that bit.
“Can you prove you owned them?” Kellan asked with a grin.
I suppressed my chuckle. That was a harsh burn, and Liam’s glare was impressive.
“Anyway.” I twirled a finger to get back on track. “We know Gio legally owns three concept cars, and considering Infiniti will be at the event, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say he’s bringing his Infiniti Essence.” He undoubtedly owned more than three concept cars in total, but for this gig, we only cared about the legally purchased ones.
“That’s such a beautiful car,” Mack murmured wistfully. “Can we steal it?”
I shook my head. “It’s too hot. Everyone in the field knows he owns it.”
“Can I ask something?” Emilia pushed off the wall and folded her arms over her chest. I did my best never to linger on her too long. “If we have the address of Gio’s warehouse, why are we discussing an auto show?”
“The more knowledge we have of the inside before we enter, the better,” I responded. “That car will be our ticket in.” Next, I addressed Eric. “We’ll need a remotely controlled device, kinda like your drone, to attach to the car. As small as possible.”
He leaned back in his seat, pensive. “If there are motion sensors inside the warehouse, we might wanna go with something that can move underneath them.”
I nodded, figuring an actual drone was out of the question. The span between the blades would be too big.
He shrugged. “I mean, I can attach a camera and a grip to a freaking toy car, no problem, but it won’t be strong enough to accomplish much on the inside. It wouldn’t be able to reach any keypads or alarms on the wall.”
I waved that off. “Focus on getting us a set of eyes in there. I just need to know what kind of security system we’re dealing with.” Since I’d gotten out of prison, I’d invested close to three mil in having the best technology and being up-to-date with what was used today. Eric was obviously our resident genius, but overriding alarm systems and locks was my forte.
He was a close second in the same field but shone the brightest when he had the freedom to develop his own software and construct his own devices.
We used to joke about it. The only territories we didn’t go near were Las Vegas and anything military. Everything else was up for grabs.
“We have a series of problems that result in us actually having to attend the event,” I said, moving on. I made sure I had everyone’s attention. “One, the drivers aren’t given their routes until they head off, which means we can’t intercept the truck on the way like we did in Cerveteri. Two, the security on-site will be too tight for us to pull anything before or after the show. Three…Gio is most likely gonna be there.”
Eric pulled up the address of the event on one of the screens, then flipped various angles of the building to three other screens.
“What we know about this show is that it’s an annual event for primarily Asian, Middle Eastern, and European money. Old money. Big money.” I glanced around at the guys and stuck my hands into my pockets. “Most of these fuckers travel with their own security detail, and entering the event will take time. So will leaving it. We can expect searches and constant surveillance.”
“Not to mention, Gio will recognize any of us,” Liam added.
I inclined my head. “I’m not worried about that. First of all, he can’t do anything there, and he doesn’t have an edge anymore. Second of all, if anything—considering what we have planned in Philly for next week—I reckon it’ll just rattle him further. He doesn’t know where we are or what our plans are for him.”
Joel and the other guys back home had something special planned for Gio. I only wished I could see his face when it happened.
Kellan spoke up. “Wouldn’t it be a good idea to set that in motion the day before New Year’s? Maybe even the day of. That way, Gio will believe we’re still stateside.”
He already believed that, but I nodded anyway. It was a good call. “I’ll let Joel and Uncle T know.” I looked to Liam next. “You wanna be the lucky son of a bitch who gets to attend the show?”
“I was gonna suggest meself anyway,” he chuckled. “I’d like to pick me own crew.”
I gestured a go-ahead. “Eric and I will travel with you, but we’ll be a couple miles outside the city center. You can pick three guys—one will attend with you as your personal security, and two on standby to get you in and out. The rest of you—or almost,” I said, turning to the others, “will go to Amsterdam with Pat. He comes back from Barcelona with the Dubliners tonight, and he’ll be ready to roll out at noon.”
“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to us,” Lachlan murmured slyly.
I’d feel bad for them if I didn’t know they’d rather get some action than sit around and drink eggnog. At this point, I wouldn’t mind going with them. Living with Emilia these days was sheer agony. If it weren’t for the pregnancy, I wasn’t sure I’d still be breathing. I could touch her stomach and sit with her whenever I wanted, but that only made shit worse. And the thing was, she’d lost a lot of her hostility. She engaged in conversation again and showed interest in random things about me, and all of this made me miss her more than words could describe.
Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Pat, Conn, and Colm would join the rest of us for a Christmas brunch here, and then one crew would be off to Amsterdam, some had plans elsewhere, and I would be here with virtually no support. Pop, the twins, Emilia, Autumn, Eric, and Sarah.
“Hold on,” Luna said, frustrated. “I thought we were doing Amsterdam after New Year’s.”
“You gotta roll with the punches, dollface,” Mack drawled.
I twisted my mouth.
The guys weren’t going easy on the girls, as they shouldn’t.
Luna’s jaw ticked with tension, but she didn’t say anything.
“We can’t move Paris,” I explained. “Gio identifying us at the event will have some kind of ramifications, and an educated guess is that he’ll tighten his security in some places. So we gotta strike Amsterdam before then.”
The crew going there would have a few days of recon work, more than we’d already done in previous trips, and then hit Gio’s club when they found a good opportunity. By then, we’d be in Paris already.
“And you don’t think Gio will suspect you?” Luna hitched her bitch brow. “Someone robs his club or whatever, and a day later, O’Sheas show up at the auto show where he is.”
Had she not been listening at all?
“I assume that’s what the Russian guys are for…?” Emilia glanced at me in question, and I nodded with a dip of my chin. “Right. They’ll stage it so Gio will think it’s someone else.”
Yeah, we’d discussed this in great detail yesterday. Last week, I’d sent Lachlan and Sullivan to Amsterdam, and they’d observed some low-men from a known Russian outfit. My men would leave evidence behind, but it wouldn’t belong to us.
“Oh.” Luna leaned back against the wall ne
arest the door and chewed on her lip.
I sighed and looked at Liam. “Pick your crew, mate. Then I wanna speak in private to those going to Amsterdam.”
Liam cleared his throat and folded up the sleeves of his button-down. “I reckon Conn and Colm will be good. They know their way around Paris.” They definitely did. They’d done a lot of gigs there over the years. “As my plus-one, I won’t go with security.”
I felt my forehead crease. Why wouldn’t he—
“A decoy is better,” he stated firmly. “Someone to draw the attention away from me.”
Okay, sure, but who—
His gaze landed on… “Emilia’s going with me.”
And my chest seized up.
Painfully.
I fought with all my power to slip a blank expression on my face. You could hear a fucking pin drop, and everyone was watching me. And Liam. And Emilia. Back and forth, back and forth. I trusted Liam as much as I could trust anyone. I trusted his ability and his decisions, but… Jesus fucking Christ.
The gobshite was testing me. If I said no outright, like I wanted—and he knew it—not only would I get shit from Emilia, I would have to justify it to the guys. Because we’d voted, and the majority accepted the girls as part of this operation. And that meant treating them equally; the girls were, for lack of a better term, one of the guys.
I made eye contact with Emilia, who stared back expectantly. Almost daring me to say no.
You’re fucking pregnant, you crazy woman!
“Fair enough.” With those words leaving my mouth, my heart threatened to pound its way out of my chest.
“Okay, then!” Liam clapped his hands together. “Emilia, you’re with me. Let’s go talk downstairs. Boss, I assume you wanna see us after you’re done with the Amsterdam crew?”
“Yeah, you can say that.” I smiled.
“Oh, that’s the I’m-gonna-kill-you smile.” Kellan was too amused. “I wish I could stay.”
It took me a while to get my shit together, but by the time the guys left and Liam and Emilia returned to the office, I felt marginally better.
Eric ducked out before Liam closed the door.
I clenched and unclenched my fists, wishing I could pop open the window and light a smoke. When push came to shove, I was in charge. The time was just sensitive. The men were observing me more, making sure I had what it took to take over the entire syndicate. I couldn’t afford any outbursts.
“You two better have a stellar fucking plan for me to go along with this,” I said irritably. “Liam, you will have no backup in there if you take Emilia.”
“Hey!” She got defensive.
“No, you shut the fuck up,” I told her. “The second you come in here, you leave your emotions and attachments at the door. Are we clear, Emilia?”
If looks could kill… Though, she was pretty quick to compose herself.
“We’re clear.” Sounded like the words tasted foul to her. Good.
Liam was next, the asshole. He stood there, waiting, hands behind his back.
“You,” I said. “Don’t ever pull that shit on me again, cousin. To the others, it can look like you’re tryna undermine me, and I wouldn’t hesitate a single goddamn second to knock you on your ass. Understood?”
“That’s fair.” He inclined his head. “You ready to listen now?”
I leaned back to half sit on the desk, and I folded my arms over my chest.
He took a breath. “You know a decoy is better, Finn. More than that, Gio won’t know what to do when he sees her. I ain’t sayin’ he’ll be distracted to the point where he won’t acknowledge my attendance, but he sure as fuck will struggle to figure out what the hell we’re up to.”
I wished I could say he was wrong.
I slid my gaze to Emilia, and I didn’t wrap my words in a nice big bow for her. I gave her the truth. “This is how you become a pawn. Are you okay with that? Because for years now, we haven’t known how this was gonna unfold.” I spoke the words I’d had on a loop in my mind. “You were always a card neither of us knew how to play.”
She raised her chin. “I’m not the card anymore, Finn. I’m one of the players.”
Fuck me.
Still didn’t like it when she called me Finn, but fuck me, that was a good response.
I looked at Liam again. “Fill me in on this genius plan of yours.”
“Fii-iinn.”
I grunted sleepily and threw an arm over my face.
Autumn giggled. “Finn, it’s Christmas now. You said Christmas started when Nessa and Alec got here.”
How had an hour passed so quickly? It felt like the guys had left for Amsterdam ten minutes ago.
Brunch had been a loud, mentally exhausting affair. And to think, I usually lived for that shit. But not now. Not these days. As soon as Pat and his crew had left, Eric and I had followed orders in the kitchen. We’d peeled more potatoes than we could count, we’d chopped vegetables and cracked eggs, and then Emilia and Autumn had told us to get out. Emilia had probably seen the state I was in. Killer headache, shitty mood. So I’d figured I’d do the one thing that gave me a break from that motherfucking pain: sleep.
To dispel my doubt about the time, the alarm on my phone went off.
I yawned and sat up on the couch, then turned off the alarm and glanced around me. Autumn jumped up on the couch and all but sat on my lap. She wore the biggest smile—and a cute red dress. Red bows in her hair.
I quirked a tired grin and tugged on one of her pigtails. “You’re all dressed up, blue eyes.”
“Because it’s Christmas now!”
I chuckled through another yawn. I must’ve slept heavily, ’cause changes had been made in the living room without my noticing. Emilia had prepared for our evening. Almost no space was left under the tree. Some of the bigger presents were stacked next to it. All our stockings hung on the mantel. The dining room table was set for dinner. Soft Christmas music played on the stereo, and the candles all over cast the room in a golden glow.
Emilia’s laughter filtered in from the kitchen, where it was followed by Alec’s animated storytelling about something and Nessa’s giggled add-ons.
The wistfulness and plain sorrow hit me squarely in the chest.
It was Christmas, and yet I felt ready to attend a goddamn funeral.
Fuck, how I missed her.
“Where’s your uncle?” I asked.
Autumn shrugged and smoothed down her dress. “I dunno. He left with Shan. I think maybe to the store?”
All right, then. What I wanted to do was stalk into the room I used to share with Emilia, take a hot shower, then hide under the covers and stay there until the holidays were over. Instead, I forced myself off the couch. I straightened my clothes. I went out on the balcony for a quick smoke. Then I soaked up the affection Autumn was in the mood to give me, maybe because the sweetheart could sense how I felt, and I gave her a piggyback ride into the kitchen.
Emilia and Sarah were busy cooking.
“Hi, Finn.” Nessa beamed at the sight of me, and I welcomed her into my arms for a tight hug.
“How are you, doll?” I kissed the top of her head as Autumn climbed off my back.
“I’m good. Are you sick?”
I snorted. “You’re a teenager now. You can’t be so honest anymore. Just tell me I look great.”
She laughed and made room for Alec.
“Good to have you back, cub.” I threw an arm around his shoulder and ruffled his hair.
“Aye, for all the five minutes we get to stay.” He smirked.
His voice was deepening. It kinda made me sad. My little cousins weren’t so little anymore.
“Emilia said I had to ask you if I can have a beer,” he said.
“Oh, she did, huh?” I chuckled. Actually, a beer sounded good to me. “You can have one, so choose wisely when you’re gonna pretend to enjoy it.”
“Hey, I like beer,” he insisted. “I drink it all the time in Killarney.”
“Yeah?�
� Well, then. I opened the fridge and grabbed a single bottle. “Consider this stay in London your detox, then.”
He dropped his jaw.
Emilia snickered and brushed her hand along my side as she squeezed by to get something from the fridge.
“We don’t want you to develop a problem,” I told Alec and opened my bottle.
“That’s not what I meant!” he exclaimed. “Emilia, tell him that’s not what I meant.”
“It sounds to me like you drink too much.” She played along. “Listen to Finnegan. He makes the rules.”
Sure. Rule number one, don’t leave me.
Alec huffed and stalked out of the kitchen.
Autumn lured Nessa away for some girl time.
I took a swig of my beer and sat down on one of the stools. The kitchen island was filled with bowls, cutting boards, finished side dishes, some halfway done, snacks, and condiments.
“Anything I can do?” I asked.
Whatever the girls had cooking on the stove smelled fantastic. There was something in the oven too. It looked like prime rib.
“Yeah, you can get some energy in you.” Emilia poured me a glass of orange juice and set a clementine and a bowl of cashews in front of me.
Despite the uncomfortable feeling of my heart twisting, her genuine care caused a warm sensation to spread in my chest.
“I meant what I can do to help. I know the smell of cooking has bothered you.”
“Funny how that comes and goes.” Her eyes gleamed with amusement before she returned to preparing the salad. “No, I just need you to have the energy to force two stubborn twins to Midnight Mass later.”
I smiled and shook my head.
Father O’Malley couldn’t be right. I’d talked to him on the phone yesterday, and he’d advised me to open my eyes. “Look at her, son. Does she act like a woman on the run from her family, or is she more invested than ever?” He said a future divorce wasn’t a topic worth discussing, because there wouldn’t be one. But he only said that because he was a priest. Right?