Chapter 13

I am not a complicated man. I ask for one thing and one thing only from those who work for me. I want perfection. I expect perfection.

I'll shower you in riches if you fecking work for it, but you have to show me you aren’t a useless piece of shite on my shoe.

Case in point, Donovan O’Neil. He ran the Reapers into the ground with his gambling and lack of consistency. His leadership was faulty and allowed the opinions of others to sway him.

His men manipulated him easily, and it was plain for all to see that he was not the real man in charge. So, imagine my surprise when I found out that he has been hiding from me that his daughter is still fucking alive.

Nessa O’Neil is mine.

I didn’t expect to see her that night. In fact, once I realized what was happening, I was lucky I made it out alive. By the time the drone tracking software on my phone warned me they were there, it was too late to warn my guards.

Her little team of heroes had already killed half my men by the time I was able to sneak into the forest. I watched them from afar, my phone making sure to disguise my heat signature from any drones in the area.

It was infuriating to know the high level of technology they brought with them, and I had to watch as my newest campsite fell. I’d only had these kids for less than a year. They were my younger initiates, the ones I was planning to sell into families so that they could run tasks for me covertly.

Need a kid who can climb through vents and retrieve information? I trained him. You want two little girls who look sweet and innocent but will claw your eyes out with a simple command or threat to the other? I can sell them to you.

How about a thirteen-year-old who can shoot as well as half of my men and has leadership skills no one would suspect? I had it.

I had it all.

Until Nessa took it from me. I was planning on leaving and moving my other investments when she told that kid she was pregnant. I didn’t know what my plan was, but I knew I had to do something. She could not be allowed to carry that baby a moment longer.

The only children Nessa will ever bear are mine.

I thought I had made things clear the day she held her sister as she bled out, but apparently not. I’ll have to deliver another message. Somehow, her mother disappeared, but her father’s still here.

I pace my office until I receive the message that everything is ready. As enticing as the poetic justice of him bleeding out in the same way and same spot I killed his daughter, it takes too long to clean the blood from the floorboards. The crimson stain settles between the slats and looks out of place in the otherwise pristine room.

And I need perfection.

Which is why I head to the sublevel with its concrete room. Lately, the usual torture techniques have been boring me. I never find the satisfaction I used to be able to gain from a kill. However, I think all that may be about to change today.

Opening the door, I find Donovan O’Neil tied to a chair. My men have already roughed him up a bit, but I have taken great care to ensure I have no psychopaths working for me.

Green was one of the only ones I allowed to stay, but now he’s dead and Nessa still got away. Not without a few scars though, I was informed.

“Hello there, old friend,” I say, walking into the room and donning a pair of black gloves. They are completely useless, but represent power, so I enjoy using them.

“We have never been friends.”

The old man tries to look brave, but fails miserably.

“Is that why you never told me Nessa is still alive?” I grab one of my tools from the rack before turning to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies through gritted teeth.

I huff a laugh at his little attempt at bravery.

“Tell me, Donovan, did she know why she was going to marry me? Does she know what you did?”

He shakes his head, spitting at my feet.

“Does she still think we were supposed to marry to bring peace to the northern and southern gangs of Ireland?”

He won’t make eye contact with me, and that simply will not do. I discard the pliers before grabbing some tape. It isn’t easy, but I get his head positioned so that he has no choice but to look up at me. He tries to shut his eyes, so I rip another piece of tape off.

“Do I need to tape them open?” Reluctantly, he opens his eyes, and I pat his cheek in a humiliating gesture.

“Much better. Now, tell me, does she know the real reason her sister died? Or what you really did to her?”

I point at the camera in the corner and his eyes widen. He tries to shake his head, but I grab him by the hair.

“So she doesn’t know that you sold her to me to settle your gambling debt? She never heard that her father had not only sold her, but her sister too? That they were both going to be my wives whether they liked it or not because of you ?”

He can’t say anything with the tape, so he tries to fight my grip on him. We’re alone in the room, which is the way I prefer it. At first, I thought about choking the life out of him, but that felt too boring. A gun felt cliché. We may be a gang, but we still have some class.

Besides, I have other plans for him.

“Smile at the camera, Donovan, and say goodbye to your little girl. Don’t worry, when I get my hands on her, I will protect her. She will be locked in a tower, and her dear husband will be the only one who has the key.”

I grin into the lens, knowing Nessa will receive this gift soon. I didn’t want to kill her sister, but it was a necessary evil. I could see the way Nessa looked out for her, and I realized I would never truly own Enya in the same way I could own Nessa.

I have this desire, no, this craving, to bend her to my will. I want her submission. I want her to wait for permission to speak. To sit quietly like my little puppet until I need her to help cut down my enemies.

“I’m coming for you,” I say into the camera, “my perfect little doll. All of you.”

Stepping back, I click a button. Knowing I only have ten seconds or so, I look at Donovan.

“Everyone needs to see what happens when you cross Ronan O’Brien. I am only partially sorry that you are going to be the example for all of them.”

He attempts to stay still, only the flex of his jaw giving away his anger. I am not one to prolong torture. It has a purpose after all, and Donovan has already fulfilled his.

By the time I make it past the steel door, the ticking down begins. I let it shut behind me so that I don’t harm my ears in the adventure as Donovan O’Neil falls.

His daughter is next. Except with her, I won’t send her falling into the pits of hell like her father. Instead, she will fall to her knees, just for me. Just like the perfect doll she is.

Nessa is mine, till death do us part.