Which is why, covered in blood, I walk to where Alek stands, smoking his cigar.
He has a way of being involved without even lifting a finger. But the difference between him and those before him is that he gives people a choice. If I choose to walk away, he would accept my choice.
But we both know that’s not happening.
“Looks like you got your wish after all,” he states calmly. “You got your war, and you won. But I never doubted you wouldn’t. You—”
But I am done listening to him talk, and I make that clear when I punch him straight in the face.
“D’ya ever shut up?” I sigh, shaking out my fist because the fucker has a hard head. “Y’ve got yerself a deal. And this time, no crossin’ yer fingers, ya hear?”
Alek smirks, cupping his bleeding nose. “Shall we shake on it?”
Extending my bloody palm, I look at Alek because the choice is his, and when he accepts the offering, I smirk. “Dead on.”
The devil within adjusts his crown as he sits on his throne because finally…he has come home.
“Are ya sure a ten-year wedding anniversary gift is tin or aluminum?” Shay asks his uncle Ethan because this sounds like a load of shite.
“Aye,” Ethan replies, quickly wrapping the small box with gold wrapping paper. “Its strength is supposed to symbolize the marriage that stood the test of time…or something naff like that. That’s what Eva told me, anyway.”
Shay snorts in laughter. “I’m pretty sure Dad is goin’ to boke.”
Ethan finishes wrapping the gift in total agreement with Shay. It’s absolutely probable that Puck Kelly is going to call them out for being two big softies, but it’s not every day you celebrate a milestone such as this.
In their world, being alive for ten years is a rarity, but Puck did what no one else could.
The moment he shook hands with Aleksei Popov, the world changed forevermore. He took control of Belfast and Dublin and returned them to their former glory. The fight for power was no more, as no one dared to challenge Punky.
They knew the consequences if they did.
Some have tried, but all have failed because the rightful king sits on the throne. He protects the people, as well as the countries, because he honors the fallen; and there are many.
Before Punky, Belfast was a mess. It was a mess Punky never wanted to clean up. But life has a funny way of steering you in the right direction, even when you veer off course. Punky thought he never had a choice, but the choice was always his.
He thought he wanted to walk away from this world, but the world wouldn’t let him. It never gave up, even when he did.
Punky’s army consists of loyal men and women who would never stray. He looks after them. And they look after him and his family. But most importantly, they look after the kingdom, which they all fight to protect.
Every king needs his queen, and Camilla Kelly has forever been Punky’s queen. She sits by his throne, forever loyal, forever his Babydoll.
Shay has two brothers and one sister, and although his real mum, Aoife, was killed, Cami never once made him feel like anything but her own. He takes the role of big brother very seriously.
“Shay!” shrieks Maya, running toward him as he walks down the corridor.
He bends low to pick her up. “Bout ye, wee dote? Where’s the fire?”
“Benjamin is being a dickhead. He stole my Barbie doll.”
“Maya!” Shay scolds, attempting to hide his smile because hearing a five-year-old curse is fucking hilarious. “What did I tell ya about swearin’? Especially ’bout yer brother.”
She pouts, knowing Shay doesn’t stand a chance. She has him wrapped around her little finger. “Can ya come play outside with me?”
“Maybe later. I’ve got to see Da.”
“Are ya gettin’ the punks again?”
Shay’s mouth falls open before he chuckles. “Who told ya I did that?”
Maya rolls her eyes. “No one told me. But I seen ya practicin’ in the mirror.”
“Practicin’ what?”
Maya puts her fingers together, mimicking a gun, and lowers her voice. “Do ya feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
Shay turns a blistering shade of red while Ethan covers his snort behind his hand. “I don’t know what yer talkin’ ’bout. Go play with yer brothers. And be nice.”
He lowers her to the floor, where she takes off into a spirited skip. That wee doll is exactly like her mum.
Ethan doesn’t say a word—for now. But that will change once they’re out tonight meeting with their supplier. Ethan intends to ask Shay to see the Dirty Harry impression for himself.
Even though Punky is the king of this town, Ethan, Cian, and Shay are his right-hand men. Shay is sixteen years old, and although his father wishes he would wait, he knows the choice is Shay’s to make.
Shay is the spit of his dad—in looks as well as character, so Punky knows there is no changing Shay’s mind.
Shay and Ethan knock on Punky’s office door before entering. Alek stands when they enter.
This aul’ fucker is a handsome devil, but Shay’s attention is instantly diverted to his daughter, Irina. She is beyond beautiful. But he doesn’t stare for too long because he knows she will cut out his eyeballs. She scares him more than her Russian drug lord father.
“It’s been a pleasure. As always.” Alek stands, buttoning his jacket.
Irina kisses both of Punky’s cheeks. “Thank you for offering me your home as a place to stay while I study abroad.”
Her smooth Russian accent hits Shay low, but he remains composed as he knows Alek is watching and isn’t afraid to castrate him for looking at his daughter.
“Maybe this isn’t—”
“Papa,” Irina interrupts, rolling her eyes.
She’s the only person who could do either of those things to the infamous Aleksei Popov.
She doesn’t address Shay as she passes him by, but she makes sure her arm skims his, a silent, flirty exchange for his eyes only. He’s a goner.
Alek isn’t as subtle, however. With Irina out of the room, he peers at Shay and states very calmly, “Don’t even think about it.”
Shay smirks, taking great pleasure in riling the aul’ lad up. “Oh, I already have.”
Alek smiles, but with so many teeth on display, it’s fair to say Alek is anything but smiling on the inside.
Once he’s gone, Cian, who sits on the couch, shakes his head. “Y’ll give the poor bastard a heart attack.”
Shay shrugs, untroubled.
“What do ya have there?” Punky has always had an air of authority about him, but he’s simply grown into the man he was always destined to become.
He did what he promised—he avenged his mum, and by doing so, he not only saved himself, he saved his kingdom as well.
He buried his father in an unmarked grave because that’s all he deserved. Even though Sean Kelly saved Punky in the end, that didn’t change what he had done. Did he regret shooting his father in cold blood?
No, he did not.
Sean’s death was Punky’s rebirth. It came full circle. Cara’s death wasn’t in vain. None of the deaths were as the men honor the fallen every single day by fighting and keeping their memory alive.