Her shoulders bunched skyward at the surprise attack as all the air left her lungs in an audible whoosh. The bullshit laughing came to a screeching halt. My father took in the scene with rapt interest, the twitch of his left eye the only tell-tale sign of his displeasure. He stepped back out of the way, giving me a wide birth of which to handle my guest.
I tightened my grip, not caring that first fuck about the amount of pain I caused.
She belonged to me.
“Listen to me carefully, Otelia,” I gritted through clenched teeth next to her ear. “Get the fuck in that room, keep your stupid mouth shut, and change out of those clothes.”
By this point, her fingers were clawing at my hand in an effort to loosen my grip. It was useless—she didn’t have the strength to stop me. My father turned away from the scene. His stance was stiff and disapproving as he walked towards the other side of the room. I’d deal with him soon enough, after I was done doling out my orders.
“Wash my dried cum off the inside of your thighs before I collect you for the evening, woman. You don’t deserve to have my seed painted on your body.”
I gave her a hard shove towards the bedroom door. Her back was facing me until the very last second, then she turned and pinned me with her eyes. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, and she mouthed why before disappearing out of sight. I felt a heaviness inside my chest that wasn’t there a minute ago when I’d damn near choked the life out of her. The momentary loss of control was back in its rightful place, along with any guilt that tried to surface. Once she was locked safely inside, I took the time to gather my wits before facing off with my father.
“What are you doing here? This really isn’t a very good time for a friendly visit.” I grabbed a glass from the credenza and poured myself a stiff drink.
“You don’t return my calls, been ghosting me for the past two days. What did you expect?”
“Yeah, well, that should’ve given you a hint that I was fucking busy and didn’t have time to bullshit around with you. I’m not one of your soldiers. You don’t run me.”
He moved so fast I barely had time to brace. One minute, he was standing by the window, the next, he was in my face bearing down. Bloodless. Hostile.
“You. Forget. Yourself. Darragh,” he snarled, so close I could feel his chest vibrating. “I’m not some little girl you can scare by running off at the mouth, boyo.” His voice dropped lower, teasing a hint of his Irish brogue he learned to disguise. “I brought you in this world, not afraid to take you out of it. Understand?”
He punctuated every word, waiting for an answer.
I held my tongue.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He straightened his suit jacket, stepped back, retrieved his glass of brandy, and retook his seat. “Listening to your mother weep as they fished your decomposed body out of a steep ravine is not something I relish doing, Darragh. She’s a good woman, deserves better than to have to bury her beautiful baby boy.”
I could count the number of times on one hand I’d witnessed my father lose his shit with one of his sons. I’d overstepped my bounds with the leader of our organization. Father or not, it was well within his power to order a hit on my life if he so desired. Would he do it? In that moment, I couldn’t be sure. For as much as I knew he loved me, he was also a man of principle. That meant he could never show weakness in the face of adversity, not even for his blood. I knew the standards of which we lived by better than anyone, and I cursed myself for acting so impolite.
I was better than that.
I had to be.
“Why are you here, Father?” I asked respectfully.
“Where should I start?” He motioned for me to take the seat opposite him. “The men I sent down from Boston dropping like flies? Or perhaps the two mil you withdrew from the accounts to cover your bet against the jap in tonight’s fight?” My eyebrows shot to the top of my head.
How the fuck did he....
“Now that I’m here, though, I must say, the little blond chickee? Definitely piqued my interest.”
“She’s nothing.” I waived a hand dismissively. “Just business.”
“Business, huh? Since when did kidnapping a beautiful woman become part of our business, Darragh? Its messy and very high risk, you know that.”
“I’m on top of it, Father. Nothing to concern yourself with, okay? Don’t know why you wasted the trip. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me? Your boy disobeyed my direct order, so I dealt with him accordingly. I’ll remember to send a bouquet of flowers to his mother.”
“Darragh,” he harrumphed, shaking his head. “That’s not how a MacCabe is supposed to behave. We have a hierarchy in place for a reason, so people don’t get a wild hair up their asses and decide to go rogue. Killing is bad for business unless absolutely necessary and should never be done on a whim. Have you learned nothing from me, son?”
“My business is tight. Believe that if nothing else,” I fired back. “Separate from yours but equal. I haven’t forgotten the rules, sir. I just modified them to fit the narrative.”
Fucking hell.
A lecture was the last thing I needed hours before the big event. I grew tired of sitting in what I perceived was the proverbial hot seat and walked over to where I’d left my MacBook. The feed inside Otelia’s room was empty, which meant she must’ve been in the bathroom getting ready as I’d told her to. That twinge of guilt was back with a vengeance, clawing its way up the back of my throat. The shit I did to her was fucked all the way up. She didn’t deserve to be manhandled, not after what we’d shared during our trip to the fight club.
I could still feel her trembling beneath my tongue as she came. The taste of her sweet pussy on my lips, the way she opened up and fully gave herself to me, even her snarky-ass attitude had me caught up in the moment. I haven’t had to jack my dick since I accidentally walked in on my older brother, Fionn, while he was fucking one of the maid’s daughters. Twice now, I’d had to take matters into my own hands, and it was all because of her.
“Darragh!” My father snapped. “Pay the fuck attention.”
I stepped away from the computer screen. My semi-hard cock was grateful for the reprieve.
“Ferdi will be back in a day or two to watch your back. Until then, I’m leaving more men at your disposal. Don’t shoot them, don’t beat the shit outta them, and for Christ sakes, try and remember you’re a MacCabe, not some out-of-control adolescent looking to play who has the bigger cock.”
How the fuck could I ever forget that?
“What’s Ferdi doing in Cartagena, anyway?” I queried.
“Personal errand,” he hedged, tightlipped. “Need to get going. All set for tonight?”
He placed his glass of half-drunk whisky down on the table and rose to meet me near the foyer. I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure why he’d come, but I was happy we had the opportunity to spend time together, even if he threatened to kill me. Connor MacCabe was a force to be reckoned with, an innovator, and the one man I aspired to be like one day.
“Everything’s under control, Father. Thanks for hopping on a plane all the way from Boston. Tell Mother I will call her in a few days.”