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That private party had been filled with white supremacists who were celebrating what they’d assumed was a flawless crime. Three of the members of said group had beaten four African American houseless men, and the authorities had nothing to go on. Lex Talionis had ways to extract information, and as soon as proof had landed on my desk regarding who was responsible, there had been retaliation.
I had no remorse for the owner of the club, who’d died in the flames, because he was well aware who these people were. Greg Howards, the owner, had chosen to dance with the devil and as the saying goes: When you dance with the devil, the devil doesn’t change. The devil changes you.
The news went on to explain how these mysterious coins were found all over the world with no understanding behind them. I relaxed on my plush couch and sipped my 2006 II Marroneto Brunello Madonna delle Grazie—my favorite red wine, which I had imported from Tuscany—and enjoyed the knowledge that those sick bastards no longer walked this earth.
Even though Lex Talionis had stepped in instead of being hired, we were compensated in our own way. I had top-notch hackers working for me that happily drained the accounts of all the pieces of shits’ monies. Properties they owned were anonymously bought, and what happened to them was my choice.
Zion texted me once he arrived in Westford, and I hoped I wouldn’t hear from him until he returned.
Fred Brennan was out of his element and yet at the same time far too advanced for the Irish mafia. It was a conundrum, one I felt the need to cling to.
Protecting people wasn’t what I was built for; revenge was. We weren’t sought after in the hopes that me and my exercitus would keep people from being killed. We only extracted justice if those that were too dangerous to breathe weren’t put to justice. Fred Brennan was the exception.
With a sigh, I grabbed my tablet from the table. Zion had sent me his findings and causes for concern regarding Fred Brennan and while I’d skimmed it earlier, I felt compelled to read it over with a fine-toothed comb.
There was uncertainty in the ranks. A few of his shot-callers, as they were referred to, weren’t being honest with their numbers, and in the last month his advisors had taken secret meetings without Fred in attendance. What had been said at those gatherings wasn’t clear, but with money being withheld and higher-ups having private congregations, it didn’t bode well for Fred. Someone was getting ready to make a move, and that didn’t sit right with me at all.
As I read on, the only people close to Fred who weren’t going behind his back were Sean Brennan; his daughter, Aine; and Fred’s driver, Aiden. I hoped Zion would explain to Fred that those were the only three he could trust.
I shut down the tablet and carried my empty wineglass to the kitchen. As I passed the large mirror in the corridor, I stopped. I was a good-looking man, and it didn’t make me vain to say that. A blessed face, my mother had told me once. At thirty-five, my brown hair wasn’t blemished with a single gray. It was thick and just past my ears, easily tuckable. My olive complexion was flawless, and while I didn’t favor a beard, I always had a perfect five-o’clock shadow.
I worked out often, which showed in my physique. My broad shoulders and height of six foot one often had me looming over people. All in all, I was handsome…yet unattainable.
With a quick run of my fingers through my hair, I made the trek to the kitchen and then up to my bedroom. Exercitus were scattered internally and externally around my property. Nobody outside of my employ knew my face was the one behind Lex Talionis, and having my identity discovered wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.
I’d just finished with the bathroom and was slipping under the sheets when my phone vibrated. Zion.
“Please don’t give me bad news,” I greeted him.
“Fred wouldn’t talk with me. He let me in but before I had the chance to speak, he said that unless I was giving him a date and time to meet with you, he wouldn’t listen.”
“And of course, you had nothing to give him.”
“Correct, but I told him there might be a plan in place, though I’d need to go over some ground rules. He waved me off and said to send it in an email.”
I snorted a laugh. Fred was a brat, and I loved it.
“Perhaps arrangements to get him here would be in our best interest. Pass along an email saying I will meet him and that you will go over the schedule with him. Hopefully that will get you in his good graces long enough to explain the rules and to give him fair warning about his family.”
“Very good, sir.”
“I’m going to bed. I suspect he won’t be in a hurry to get back to you, and you’ll not hear from him until morning. Let me know.”
“That’s a likely assumption.”
“Then good night, Zion.”
“Night, sir.”
Zion and all of Lex Talionis were careful not to use my name on open lines of communication whether it be phones, laptops, or anything that could lead enemies to my doorstep. Fred and the people in Haven Hart knew who I was, but that was only because of those annoying underground vaults of that town. It was a fortress of discoveries, and I would be in awe of them if I weren’t so frustrated.
If they could find out who I was, could anyone?
Shaking that thought off, I rested my head on the pillow and tried to guide my brain to something more pleasant.
Easily, visions of the gorgeous, redheaded, lightly freckle-faced man swarmed my mind. I’d only seen his smile in pictures and on occasion from video Zion had obtained. It was contagious, and just thinking about it had me grinning. Soon enough, slumber claimed me and I dreamed of finally coming face-to-face with the Irishman. I wondered what he smelled like, how his laugh sounded, and very much how he tasted.
I’d been foolish to think this day wouldn’t come, and while my mind told me to push him away, my heart and body were already pulling him closer.
