Page 13 of A Love Most Fatal
It’s not the stuff going missing that’s really upsetting me, it’s the disrespect of it. A container of bombs disappearing is inconvenient, but ultimately pennies in the grand scheme of the year. We aren’t going out of business because of a few missing boxes.
But a bad egg in the operation? That could cost a fortune if left to rot.
Sean looks down at his watch and stands from his chair. “I’ve got to be on one of the sites,” he explains. “OSHA violations abound, apparently.”
I close my eyes to the news, trying to hide the uncontrollable roll of my eyes. Running the workings of the mafia clan is a business in itself; there’s the logistics of employees, shipments, transportation, orders, and every other detail. Then, of course, there’s the deals to be made, individuals to be bought out, and relationships to be fostered. The construction business, though,is what lets us do the things we really want to do and gives us more capital to do it. So, nothing gets to be ignored.
On the side of Morelli Construction, Sean manages the construction sites, Willa handles the legal, I’m the acting CEO. All these roles would be a lot if we weren’talsomanaging some of the largest crime operations in the city.
“You look stressed,” Cillian says once his brother leaves. I let myself slouch in my chair until my head is resting on the back of it. If he was anyone else outside of my family I wouldn’t show such fatigue, but Cillian has been on our side since I was eighteen. He’s earned our trust with his partnership, and I’ve seen him low, exhausted, or with bloody fists in defense of someone from my family. He’s not blood, but he is one of us.
“I can’t stand this stuff. Like there’s a rock perpetually in my shoe, and until we find who did it, I’ll never walk comfortably,” I say.
“Anyone in your clan you think might have it out for you?”
I think about this, scrolling through names and faces in my mind. “I pissed Ronaldo Sinclair off last week, but he’s too much of an idiot to retaliate.”
“Why him?”
“Because I wouldn’t marry his nephew. You know James?” Cillian nods. “And I wouldn’t give him Mary for either him or his brother Ryan.”
Cillian whistles.
“She’d kill him in his sleep.”
“I know.” I stand and look out the window to the back yard. Mom is hard at work in the garden, weeding and planting and otherwise making sure it’s going to be the most beautiful garden in the neighborhood.
It’s nice to see her outside again. For over a year after my father died, she didn’t touch the garden. It was something theydid together, him following her around telling her what troubled him, her listening, adding her input where she could.
Cillian meanders over until he’s by my side and leans against the wall on the other side of the window frame.
“How many this month?”
“Hm?”
“Marriage proposals.”
“Oh.” I sigh. “Just three. A notable one from the Barga family, though.”
“They’ll send their son here from California?”
“Well, I’m a hot piece of ass,” I say. My father made quite a name for us in his tenure, drawing eyes of crime families across the country. I think his cooperation with them is what made him such a strong leader. It’s a fine line for me to walk in his stead, interfacing with crime lords a world away. “Obviously they didn’t offer their favorite son. Probably not even the spare. They’d send the third in line. He’s probably nineteen.”
“Did you kill them for even offering?”
“No. Figured that would make traveling to California very difficult,” I say. Every inquiry has come from a place I understand, a place that craves security. My family could offer that. “The funny thing is that they always ask if I’d arrange for a match with Mary if not for myself. They have no idea what a handful she’d be.”
“They’d be lucky to have her,” Cillian says, which makes me smile. He and Mary haven’t always gotten along—something about Cillian gets under her skin, always has—but Mary at least hasn’t threatened to strangle him in a few years, which is progress. She tolerates him. He recognizes that she’s an asset.
“She’d take over from within. It would take three weeks. If that.”
“All the more power for you, then.”
“I suppose.”
Cillian is older than Willa and Sean, mid-thirties I think, but he is like me in that both of us became the heads of our families much younger than we intended. He’s a peer, and practically family. The Donovann’s used to be enemies to us, but when Willa and Sean fell in love, our fathers eventually agreed that the match would be an advantageous one.
It’s been a fruitful partnership, our combined families.