Page 47 of Play The Game

“Any other issues before we move onto the settling of the Vulture’s business?” the Jackal snaps, and I smile at him, giving him my best fuck-you impression of Avery. The girl is an ice queen after all. I’ve been planning this for months, knowing the Jackal expects the quiet, reserved Wolf he knows to be in this room and not the fierce, protective Wolf that’s formed now I have a family behind me to guard. I throw myself in.

“Actually, I have two. Firstly; I would like to address some threats that have been made against my people. I would like to formally remind the Jackal that Harley Arbour is mine, and if he sends any more street rats to knife him in dark alleyways, I will see it as an open act of betrayal against not only me, but the Twelve as a whole.”

Silence.

I think I can hear the blood pumping furiously in the Jackal’s veins from across the table, and the slight flare of his eyes is the only sign I’ve just shocked him. The rest of the table is also clearly fucking floored.

“Why would I have him killed?” he asks carefully, now the Crow and the Boar are watching him closely.

“Because you’re pissed I turned you down. I may choose not to grow an empire but at this table, I am an equal to you. Send someone after my people again, and I won’t have to call in favors to have you taken care of. The Twelve will have no choice but to do it.”

The Jackal doesn’t try to argue or deny what he’s done, he just stares at me like he wants to punish me the same way he’s punished me for years, labeling it as training. Well, fuck him. I’ve learned a whole lot in the time I’ve been away from him and it’s only made me more dangerous. Now I have people to protect.

“Jesus Christ, is your pussy gold plated or some shit?” the Coyote murmurs in my ear, and I have to resist the urge to shove him the hell away from me.

“Either the institution stands, or it doesn’t,” I say, and tension snaps through the table. The group behind us shifts on their feet, preparing to dive into the fight that we’re edging our way closer to.

“The second thing, Wolf?” the Boar asks, clearly wanting to steer the conversation away from bloodshed and war within our own ranks.

I bend and retrieve the velvet bags I have stuffed in the tongue of one of my combat boots. I stand to place the pile in the center of the table. Ten bags, ten diamonds.

“You all know what I’m asking for.”

The table all stare at the diamonds with ravenous hunger and I nod.

“Good. Now we can move on.”

I’m forced to sit through an hour’s worth of arguing about the skin trade and no resolution is found, just as I suspected. The Crow refuses to back down and at one point I think the Jackal starts to plan exactly how he’s going to dismember him when the chance arises. Again, it works in my favor because the rest of the table sees it too.

The Jackal is unstable.

His time of being harmonious among us is counting down.

When the Jackal finally calls the meeting over no one stands to leave. He flicks his wrist at one of his men and the elevator starts up. The Twelve all slowly collect their diamonds and stash them away as we wait.

I take a deep breath.

This part is going to be immensely satisfying, but it’s also the part I’m most worried about Harley seeing. I have thirty seconds of regret for not warning him, for not wanting him to argue with me about the price of his safety, before Liam and Domhnall O’Cronin walk into the meeting room.

Neither of them notice Harley amongst the group of men, they both only have eyes for me as I stand. I’m so glad Illi got me the jacket as I place my palms on the table in front of me and lean forward to address the fucking scumbag mobsters.

“Thank you for joining us, Liam,” I say in a dark tone, hatred and disgust clearly present. Domhnall twitches at my complete dismissal of him and I mentally high-five myself for it.

Liam’s lip curls. “Not like we had much fuckin’ choice, ey? What’s all this about? You’ve already stolen my heir, what more could you want from me?”

I ignore the disrespect he’s showing me and smirk at him. “Oh, I didn’t steal him. He sought me out. He decided that he wanted real loyalty, not the bullshit your family dishes out. But that’s all beside the point. I’ve brought you here to inform you that your family is done. The Twelve are finished with the lot of you. You’ll need to pack up and find a new state to live in. I hear Alabama is nice this time of year, try running your ‘empire’ there.”

Liam’s face grows slack as he stares at me, and then his eyes frantically dart around the table at the others. When no one speaks up to correct me, his face slowly turns purple.

“Our family has lived and worked here for generations, you can’t just fuckin’ freeze us out!”

Again, no one moves or speaks, exactly as I’ve instructed. I’m the one with power over the O’Cronin family now. My smirk only gets wider.

“I could be persuaded to let you stay. Maybe even keep your businesses running with us.”

Domhnall finally spots Harley and he freezes, his body locking up completely at the sight of his hulking, enraged, practically-naked nephew standing beside the Butcher, who I’m sure looks positively psychotic with the tats, the grin, and arsenal of weapons strapped to him. Both of them clad in my color; both of them belonging to me.

Liam rolls his shoulders back, contempt deepening the curl in his lip. “What do I have to do to persuade you? If you want the boy that much then fuckin’ keep him. If he’s sold himself to you then he’s as weak as his fuckin’ da.”