Then there’s Eddie, who’s off to the side with a bound Simone.
My expression remains composed and unreadable, though my insides clench with fury when I notice the bruises on my wife.
Her dress is torn, and she’s got bloodspots under her nostrils. I can tell her left cheek is more swollen than the right.
It’s a test in self-control to keep myself in check. To keep from losing my shit and swinging on all these bastards.
I allow my gaze to linger on her a moment longer, holding hers in silent communication to let her know I’m here and have come for her.
Then I redirect my attention to Dren. “Well? You rang, so I’m here. Let my wife go.”
“Not so fast,” Dren sneers. He’s flanked by none other than his sons, Dardan and Dritan. The two hulking teenagers we’d planned to off tonight. Obviously Eddie spoiled the whole operation and allowed for them to escape with their dear dad. “We have some matters to discuss first,” he goes on. “Matters like your failed attempt to take me out. Is that not what you were up to tonight?”
“I was,” I admit bluntly. Then I stick my hands in my pockets and shrug. “But it turns out we had a treacherous little weasel on our team so that didn’t pan out.”
Eddie laughs at the insult. “Team? What team, Uncle Ronan? You mean the same team that allowed my father to rot in a prison cell? All while yous carried on like everything was sunshine and roses?”
“Loch made his choices. He knew the risks?—”
“He was loyal!” Eddie blurts out, his face reddening from emotion. “My father was loyal to Grandpa Seamus and the clan his whole life, and what did it get him? A six-by-eight cell in Sing Sing. So don’t talk to me about betrayal. The clan betrayed usfirst.”
“You’re so bold when you’ve got backup, you little shit. You’d never mouth off if it were just me and you. You know I’d shove your head up your own fucking ass.”
“Enough,” Dren interjects out of boredom, his tone flat. “This is not about personal family gripes. This is about who rules the black market. Theunderworld.”
“If you think the Italians or Russians are about to fall in line, you’re a more delusional fuck than this little shit right here,” I counter, jutting my chin in Eddie’s direction. “You won’t even succeed in taking out the Callahans tonight. We will get our revenge. Even if I’m not alive to see it.”
“Is that so?”
“Deep down, you know it’s true.”
“I don’t think so,” he says simply. A nasty smirk curls onto his face. “You thought you would eliminate me and my family tonight, but I had already planned several steps ahead, Ronan. Now I will succeed in taking out my biggest competition in the weapons tradeandthe most dominant family standing in the way of us ruling the streets. But first…”
Dren trails off as he inclines his head, signaling to his men a command I don’t immediately understand.
“First, I think you are owed some pain for the trouble you have caused.” He follows up with Albanian, issuing the rest of his command to his men.
I understand a couple seconds later when one of the guys to my right slams his fist into my gut. I almost double over as his fist drives air out of me, and suddenly it feels like my intestines have been twisted.
But they’re nowhere near done—it’s only the beginning as another one of his guys throws his fist at me next. The second punch lands on my jaw, snapping my head to the side and making the room around me whip past like it’s suddenly started moving.
A third punch comes at the back of my head from somebody behind me. Then another to my ribs and stomach and chest.
I stay standing, even dodging some of the blows as Dren’s men descend on me. Blow after blow rains down as the fuckers jump me. As competent of a fighter as I am, I still don’t stand a chance against this many guys.
My mouth fills with blood. Pain throbs through me from all the hits I take.
Eventually I fall to my knees as more fists connect. Then somebody’s slamming their boot into my head, and I’m dropping the rest of the way to the ground.
The warehouse echoes with the sounds of their violence—grunts of exertion and thethwackof knuckles colliding with parts of my body. Simone’s scream in the distance. Dren’s deep-bellied laughter as he watches me get the shit kicked out of me.
But not once do I beg. Not once do I plead for them to stop.
I grit my teeth and take the fucking beating like a true Callahan would. I egg them on like the brash asshole I am.
“That all you got?!” I call out, spitting blood on the concrete floor. “My nana hits harder than you wimps.”
Dren’s smirk widens. “Always saving face to the end, Ronan. But this is only the beginning. Let’s see how far you can last before you tap out.”