Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
“Yes?” I drawled.
“Tatum,” Achilles said.
I followed two swans with my gaze as they sliced through a nearby lake, just on the edge of my property.
“I fucking know my own name. Anything else you got?”
Achilles’s laugh filled my ear. It sounded eerily like a nail rolling over a blackboard. “I have a piece of news I think would make you very happy.”
“Doubt it.”
Only one thing made me happy, and it was currently in the house, cooing over Calla Litvin’s incredibly boring story about a pie she burned yesterday.
“Tiernan Callaghan.”
The name alone made my skin crawl. He was the first and only man I did not finish off completely after he crossed me. And not from lack of desire. We both had too much on the line.
I could play with my own life but never Gia’s. Never our baby’s.
“What about him?”
“He fucked up again.” Achilles sounded significantly less dead inside, uplifted by the news. “Our last promise to leave him alive has officially expired.”
“What’d the bastard do?”
“Killed a Las Vegas pakhan right under our noses. In our territory.” There was a pause. “And dumped his body at our doorstep.” Another pregnant silence. “Most of it anyway.”
“Is that so?” I crouched down and moved an ancient stone, revealing the pack of cigarettes I kept hidden there. I only smoked once every few weeks. Gia didn’t like it but learned to live with it. I was still, at my core, a man accustomed to and enamored with darkness. I lit myself a cigarette, blowing out smoke. “And what are you telling me this for? You know damn fucking well I’m not participating in this war. I would never jeopardize my wife’s safety.”
“We’re not asking you to, but there’s something else…” He trailed off.
“I’m listening.”
“If we were to retaliate, we might need an ironclad alibi.”
God bless burner phones. Fucker didn’t even miss a beat when he asked this.
“You don’t think he’ll snitch?” I had no respect whatsoever for that cunt, but even I knew he wouldn’t breathe a word if the Ferrantes rearranged his facial features.
“Not him,” Achilles tsked. “His sister, I’m not so sure about.”
I was quiet for a moment.
“Sure. You were all at my estate at the time. I’ll have my guy forge CCTV footage,” I said. “Just as long as there’s no blowback coming for my family.” I wasn’t going to actively kill Tiernan, but I was happy to give his fate a much-needed push. I inhaled my cigarette, smirking. “So you’ve got a death warrant with his name on it?”
“Vello wants him alive, but just barely,” Achilles groused with annoyance. “I’m going to pluck a few body parts, though.”
“Good. Give him a DIY circumcision, and be generous about it.”
Achilles laughed.
“Won’t it mess with your ability to choose the mouthy sister a husband?”
“Nah, I have big plans for her.”
“I’d ask what they were, but I truly don’t care. Oh, and, Achilles?”
“Yeah?”
“If this backfires in any way and makes its way to my doorstep, I am going to personally kill you, your brothers, your entire family, and the Callaghans combined. Make it clean, you hear me? I don’t want my wife to be saddled with any more bodyguards.”
“Loud and clear, lover boy.”
I killed the call and tossed the still-lit cigarette into the mud, making my way back into the house. I assumed my place next to my wife, who made a face that let me know she could smell the cigarette on me. Nonetheless, she placed a reassuring hand on my back.
“Gia and I were just talking designs for the nursery,” Cal informed me.
“Oh yeah?” I leaned to kiss my wife’s cheek. “Apricity, do you have a color in mind yet?”
“Red,” she said without looking at me, taking a spoonful of her stew. “It reminds me of you.”
I grinned.
My phone pinged again. Dr. Patel.
From: Dr. Arjun Patel, MD
(arjunpatel@stjohnsmedical.com)
To: Tate Blackthorn
(willnotanswerunsolicitedemails@GSproperties.com)
Subject: Success
Tate, I am happy to inform you I am delighted with your progress and mental health.
I believe you are no longer in need of my weekly service and that a three-month checkup to monitor medicine/dosage is sufficient from this point forward.
I applaud your hard work and your determination to get better.
Warmly, Dr. Patel.
“You look happy,” Row accused, frowning like this was bad news all around.
“I am,” I confirmed, looking up from the email. “Because I just got my happy ending, perfect and tied in a satin bow.”
The End