Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I only hoped Liam wasn’t stupid enough to go after him because Una would not hesitate to destroy him. Sasha was her brother in all but blood.
“He killed Patrick for Sergio and then killed Sergio?” Liam asked, eyeing the duffel bag.
“No, I killed Sergio.” Una slipped her hand inside his jacket, removing his gun before moving to take a seat beside Nero. She rested Liam’s gun in her lap. Ready. Always ready.
O’Hara glanced between the three of us. “So, what now? You wish to ally with me against The Outfit?”
“No.” I leaned back in my chair. “We have that covered. The Outfit is no longer a problem.”
Liam leaned back in his seat, his gaze sweeping over me. “Because you married Emilia Donato.”
“Yes. Among other things.” I didn’t want to tell him that Luca and Renzo essentially worked for us now. It gave us too much power, more of a foothold in Chicago, and made us a threat to the mob. I preferred to use threats as a last result. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
Liam focused his narrowed gaze on me. “So you want an alliance with the mob also?”
I shrugged. “Peace. We all just want peace, but yes, strong working relationships benefit everyone.”
He was silent for a long time as he lit a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke past his lips. “I won’t make peace with those Italian cunts.”
I lifted a brow. “And why is that? It would benefit everyone.”
His jaw ticced. “I’d rather make no money than work with them.”
“Because Roberto Donato killed your wife?” I didn’t want to bring it up, but I could understand his hatred toward The Outfit. They’d killed his young wife and left his daughter without a mother. It was unforgivable. I couldn’t imagine losing Emilia, let alone losing my child’s mother.
Liam dropped his head forward, and I could see the weight of the grief he bore.
“Would it help you to know that we killed Roberto Donato?”
“I saw the hand.” He tipped the remainder of his drink back. “Did he at least suffer?”
I didn’t know how to answer that, but Una did.
“You’re a father, O’Hara. Tell me, how would it feel to be shot by your own daughter?” she asked.
His brows furrowed, and he swallowed heavily. “I would never fail my daughter so badly that she would do that.”
She nodded. “Good.”
I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “There’s too much bad blood—”
Nero let out a sigh. “For fuck’s sake. We are The Outfit. We own them now.” Subtle. Real subtle. “Luca and Renzo Donato work under us. So, you can have half of Chicago or none of it. There’s my fucking offer.” Well, he never was one for politics or sympathy.
I held my breath as the two bosses eyed each other up.
“Fine. Roberto and Sergio’s deaths do go some way to paying the blood debt. So, I’ll agree to an alliance. With the Famiglia, who owns The Outfit…” He lifted both brows. If that was what he needed to tell himself, I didn’t care. We didn’t own them, not really. Controlled them, yes. Took a cut, of course. “But I want what they have. A marriage alliance.”
Nero laughed, and Una elbowed him in the ribs.
Liam turned his attention to them. “You married off your consigliere. You can do it again with a Famiglia daughter.”
My jaw clenched at the notion of any kind of arranged marriage, but especially at the idea of selling a woman. It was hypocritical as fuck, but I hated it.
“There are no Famiglia women. I’m sure Jackson would be willing to marry, though.” Nero smirked, and I knew he was amused by the idea of any woman putting up with Jackson.
“We have no women of age, either,” O’Hara said.
“Great.” I slapped my hands on my thighs. “So, we’re agreed that there will be no marriage.”
“A betrothal,” O’Hara said, his gaze fixed on Nero. “I have a daughter, Reagan. She is a baby, but you have a young son, do you not?”
Fuck. Three, two—
“That’s not happening,” Una snapped, her fingers wrapping around the gun in her lap. “My son is not a poker chip for your bullshit mafia games.”
Liam shrugged. “This is how alliances are forged. When children are betrothed, they form friendships, lasting relationships between families. You know this.”
“And if we do not agree?” I asked.
Liam's gaze leveled on me. “Then we will not be enemies, but you know I can’t allow The Outfit to gain more power here in Chicago. The Donatos have a sister married to the consigliere of the Famiglia. That puts them at an advantage.”
Fuck, I just wanted to stop the never-ending war and violence. “Can you give us a minute?” I asked Liam.
He nodded. “I’ll get a drink.”
The second he left the table, Una was pointing a gun in my face. “No.”