Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Jordan

I 'm incredibly tense watching as Layla calmly banters with the enemy. She looks like a dangerous doll right now, dressed in the outfit Seán clearly picked out for her. It's creepy that he chose a dress that's full of tulle and fluff for an event like today. It's very reminiscent of leading a lamb to the slaughter, and my blood begins to boil at the reminder that he did the same to his own daughter.

All around, there are men and women who keep their evil gazes on us, while they participate in the party favors provided to them in the form of beautiful women. This is just the beginning, as Seán has promised them a songbird for their collections.

My niece.

Thankfully, while I took the long way to my seat, I caught sight of Lennon and her men positioned in the audience and around the club. She managed to get up slowly, pulling me into a side hallway to speak to me.

"I see you're safe," she says, looking over her shoulder. Her dress is formal, and she appears to fit in perfectly with the crowd.

"Outside of a few bumps and bruises, I'm fine," I grunt. "Things are… complicated with Seán and his daughter. Does Layla know he's planning to double cross her?"

"Yeah," Lenny says. "Derek and Orion are watching out for her, and Greg pulled all the details together with his secret ways. Do you need an extraction after this is all over?"

Shaking my head, I give her a small smile. "I'm afraid I'm staying, love. Líadan is going to need help after all of this is over."

"She's pretty," Lenny teases me, winking.

"She's a package deal with her boyfriend," I confess. "I did a little matchmaking for Layla. I saw that she wasn't trying to kill them…"

"You're my favorite uncle," Lennon says with a chuckle. "Layla is figuring things out with them all, and Tyler has enjoyed showing them that they're idiots."

"I think I like him best," I confess with a shrug. "We ran into an issue with the label, and it felt a little like fate. Now, don't let her get too in her feelings about this, okay?"

Realizing this is goodbye, she takes a deep breath as she nods. Squeezing her hand, I slip out of our hiding spot, leaving her to find her way back to Roark in the crowd.

Not everyone is engaging in public sex, and those who don't look bored with the whole thing. Lenny is one of those people, now leaning in to speak to Roark as if she's unaffected by the depravity surrounding her.

One man is laid out on a table in the middle of the room while sucking someone's cock and another female fucks his tight ass with a toy. If this was another time and place, and I knew this was someone who wanted to be here, my cock would be rock hard. Unfortunately, I can see his drug induced glazed stare from here.

It looks like acting runs in the family.

"You can see the family resemblance, can't you, daughter?" Seán grunts. "The only reason both of them aren't dead yet is because I also like them."

The warning is clear, but I just gaze back at him, unimpressed. Whatever is going to happen, won't until he shows his cards. He's having too much fun with his food to do that yet.

Líadan gazes between Layla and I in surprise by how much we look alike. I guess it's easier to see when we're in the same room than a grainy video.

"Please threaten to kill me again," Layla growls, baring her teeth. "I don't have the patience to deal with small-minded people tonight."

Ignoring them before I can let their posturing stress me out, I focus on all the potential places Layla could have weapons on her person. I saw Seán checking her for weapons as I walked over here, but he didn't find anything, which means her weapons are hidden in the complicated hairstyle she's wearing.

Thank fuck for Lennon and her many tricks.

Seán wants Tyler, Layla's boyfriend to stay with us while she goes up to perform. I can tell that he's attempting to leverage his safety into my niece's continued obedience.

Forcing myself to breathe, I watch as Layla walks on stage with her bandmates, hoping she doesn't run into trouble.

"Tyler, sit back," I say softly as he leans forward. "Stop staring at the sharks. They bite back."

Líadan has transformed into the perfect Irish mafia daughter, pointing out the women in barely there outfits made of pearls as they walk through the room.

"They're mostly harmless if you throw them a treat here and there," she murmurs languidly. "This should keep them happy until it doesn't. I suggested it to Daddy."

I can read between the lines, knowing that she suggested willing people service the room to take the heat off of Layla. Even when she's in the thick of mafia bullshit, Líadan is trying to keep people safe.

The girls move through the room, smiling seductively to entice those without their own sexual slaves with them, while Seán takes a deep breath. Ohhh, so he's using these girls as a distraction. That's funny.

Standing, Seán clears his throat. The room immediately quiets outside of the occasional gag as a man shoves his cock down his plaything's throat. Yep, this is a classy event alright.

"Thank you everyone for coming tonight. I know you've all been anxiously waiting for me to announce my heir, and I am proud to tell you. Directly after this, we will have a private performance by The Midnight Lights. Layla is bound to me by a debt, so she was more than willing to attend tonight," Seán begins.

The words draw attention to Layla as she disappears behind the curtain, forcing me to hold back a snarl. I hate the idea that she's being objectified like this, and even though I'm not a violent man naturally, my fingers itch for a weapon. I know that blood will flow tonight. One way or another, the king will fall.

Seán goes on a long diatribe about the future of the Irish Families in the criminal organization, naming Líadan as his heir on the contingency that she marry someone of his choosing.

I can barely hold back the eye roll I want to give, because one of the biggest things my surveillance showed me was that the families wanted a man in charge.

Líadan is one of the strongest people in the room, and the deadliest. She doesn't need a man to prove that. The reasons she needs Brendan and I are to ground her emotionally to the present. Unchecked, I can see her losing herself to death and destruction. She has a conscience, she's just very subjective about the things she cares about.

Some people yell at the news, others are quiet as they assess the woman who stands slowly to address them. Líadan is keeping secrets from these people, which means her predatory smile has merit as she steps closer to stand near her father.

Since she's playing her part so well, I keep up my side by giving anyone who glances at me absolutely no emotion.

"My father has been careful to have me avoid parties since I was a little girl and someone tried to assassinate me," she says, meeting the eyes of what I assume are key players in the room. As people snarl at her, Líadan simply blows them a kiss.

"While I have been training in the wake of my brothers' deaths, I know I will need to take a husband to help me navigate this world. It is not because I am weak, but because this is how you all believe it should be done, so I will bow to our traditions. It is the only time I'll bow, so don't get used to it."

As Líadan flips her hair and flounces off to sit down beside me, I catalog every person's reaction so I can go over it with Brendan and the heir to the mafia families. I'm less worried about the outwardly aggressive people, because the ones who are glaring calculatedly are the ones who will attempt to push her buttons.

It's going to get messy very soon.

Tyler stiffens as Seán announces the auction, and I reach over to squeeze his arm, shaking my head. It won't get much further than an announcement. Layla won't be leaving with anyone she doesn't want to. Tyler is the mafia boss' insurance that she'll perform, but that's all Seán will get her to do.

The terms are clear that Tyler is collateral, Seán just doesn't realize he's writing bigger checks than he can cash.

"The blonde will make a beautiful addition to anyone's human menagerie as their personal songbird and fill my coffers with the money from the blood debt she owes me. Your bids will be collected by the men on the ends of each row," Seán crows as men walk down the aisles to collect the silent bids.

Tyler's breaths come faster as he panics, watching how excited everyone is as the noise around him gets louder. They all saw Layla disappear backstage, and he can't help her. Fuck, he's going to do something stupid or pass out if I can't get through to him.

Knowing Layla and Lennon, they didn't tell him anything about their plans. I don't know the details, but I have faith in my girls and their ability to make a plan happen. Layla doesn't get stage fright, and I doubt she will now.

"Keep it together, man," I hiss in his ear. "Layla knows exactly what a blood debt means thanks to her sister when I caught her earlier. Seán needs a diversion and to show that he still maintains the old ways. Unfortunately, this will probably be the last thing that he ever does. No matter what happens, tell my nieces I love them."

Tyler glances at me with a million questions in his eyes, but I lean back as the curtains open to reveal the band. Mav, Draven, and Atlas look angry as they pick up their instruments with jerky motions, and I can immediately see why. Layla is staring out at the faceless sea of people as if checked out.

My lips purse as I search her for bruises, but I'm too far away. Her clothes are intact, yet something still scared her.

"Bruin," Líadan whispers in my ear, drawing my attention to the side entrance as I watch him step outside.

Fucker.

I can't wait for him to die. I meant what I said earlier: there's no reason to draw shit out. Kill the fucker and be done with it.

"I see him, Princess," I breathe, shuddering. The room is completely dark as Layla pulls herself together and begins to speak.

"Congratulations, Líadan, on your debut. There's nothing I love more than a little girl power, wouldn't you say?" Layla winks in the direction where she would be.

The girl she's addressing actually laughs, giving me goosebumps because while Líadan's laughter is a little rusty, it's so fucking beautiful.

"God, I wish Brendan had been here to hear that," I say softly, blinking hard. "How long has it been since you've laughed?"

"Years," she murmurs, with a small smile as she watches Layla. "It wasn't even that funny, I just love the big ole ‘fuck you' she gave after Bruin scared the shit out of her. You can't convince me he wasn't back there. It's what he does."

"Layla doesn't scare easily," I agree, squeezing her knee.

"This next song is called ‘Just a Pretty Face' and it's one of my favorite songs," Layla says. I love this song. They're both largely underestimated, and the world is wrong every time they do.

It's your move, we'll back you up.

Brendan

I've been watching everything from the shadows, gritting my teeth as things unfold. There's been more than one time that I've wanted to jump into action, but I can't. Not yet.

Watching Layla walk alone after her set was the hardest as the whispers began in anticipation of finding out who won the auction. It reminds me too much of how I failed Lía when she was seventeen, and the memories are riding me hard.

"I wonder if she sighs as pretty while she's being stuffed with cock," travels to me, making my hand fist. When he reaches out and grabs Layla as she starts to pass me in my hidey hole, I take a step to help her. Thankfully, Layla shakes him off and kicks him, making me smirk.

I know there are men spread out through this building that are here to get her out as soon as shit hits the fan. As I moved through the club earlier like a ghost, I noticed that they have the same deadly grace I do.

She won't be sold. Layla will be safe.

Ghosting through the shadows from the low light, I watch as Seán is left alone with the tiny blonde songbird, and he sends away the rest of his men. Even Cormac is sent away grumbling. And I smile a smile that would scare the shit out of normal people.

It's almost time.

I can't hear what Layla says as Seán snarls and fists her hair in anger. Jordan stiffens as he takes a breath, his hands rising as if to calm him down. Remembering the ill formed plan to let his niece handle this, he drops them even as his chest heaves from the shot of adrenaline.

Líadan's lips are moving as she speaks to her father, and I imagine she's telling him to let her go. I think the bull has been poked too many times, baby. It's time to let him make a mistake now. As I move closer, I hear Layla boldly say, "Make me."

I imagine Líadan would be a lot like this if her father hadn't tried to break her spirit. Layla's fingers grapple against Seán's grasp, but I realize she's not trying to get away. Layla is pulling a sharp pin from her hair, though everyone else is too engrossed in their own shit to notice.

Except my Lía. She sees the glint of metal, tracking it as her lips twist in gruesome approval for a moment. Then, as quickly as it appears, it's gone again.

"Stupid bitch! Oye, Cormac, start tallying up the bids while I teach this little girl a lesson. I want to know who will get the pleasure of breaking her in," Seán snarls. He yanks her closer, allowing Layla to slap him across the face in anger.

I love the ferocity in her features as she screams, refusing to be manhandled.

"Daddy, stop!" Líadan cries out, though it's purely for show. When things shake out, she'll want the world to know that she warned him.

Seán slaps Layla back, making me wince as her head snaps back. Somehow, she keeps her hold on the pin, gasping for air for a moment.

Whispering something I can't hear, she pushes her knee between his legs to rest on the chair. The little minx is going to make her move. It happens quickly as Seán says, "Women are weak," he hisses. "I will be pulling the strings while my daughter does whatever I fooking tell her to do."

The fire in Lía's eyes tell me she knows this is the only way for us to be free. Her father will never allow her to lead the Families, will never allow her to love me, not unless he's pulling the strings. The Banshee is done.

"Why are fathers such a disappointment?" Layla asks loudly, practically straddling Seán's waist now. She's vying for purchase as she hides the long, sharp pin against the palm of her hand. The old man isn't able to see that he's the one currently being played.

"Tianna McCall is the winning bid," Cormac yells out just as Layla plunges the pin deep into Seán's neck.

I can't see his face, but Lía and Jordan's faces of triumph tell me everything I need to know, even as her eyes fill with fake tears. The mafia king is headed to see his maker: the devil himself.

My girl would never shed a real tear for him. They all dried up six years ago.

Layla struggles to pull out another pin to finish what she's started, and her hair tumbles down her back.

"Boss?" one of Seán's men asks, taking a step toward where Layla is sitting. Sticking out my foot, I trip and shove him as he'll go down hard, rolling my eyes when he manages to knock himself out on a chair beside him.

"Idiot," I grunt, standing guard in the dim light.

As Layla stabs Seán again, she's sprayed with blood across her face, and he begins to gurgle. At this angle, he's bright red, though his tight hold on her body is beginning to weaken. His carotid artery is pumping blood out, and he's a dead man.

As Layla glances at her uncle, Jordan shakes his head. She needs to go, and he can't follow.

"Go, Lay, and don't look back," Jordan roars at her, forcing her to jump up and start running.

Stepping forward, I calmly snap my ex-boss's neck, to make sure the bastard stays dead.

"It's time to play, Lía," I growl, barely sparing her a glance as I begin to hunt. She can take care of herself.

Pulling my gun, I turn around to shoot Tianna, but the crazy bitch who bought Layla has escaped.

Layla is running hard, fighting to get to one of her men. She doesn't appear in danger yet, so I wade through the crowd to pick off people I know will have an issue with Lía's new position. Fredrick, Nial, and Wyatt are all heavy supporters that the only good leader is one with a dick.

Dead. I shoot two in the eyes, and then pistol whipped Wyatt because I am out of bullets in that gun.

"So goddamned satisfying," I purr, watching his face become bloody and unidentifiable.

A scream I'd know anywhere pulls me away as I snap his fucking neck to see Lía launching herself into the air at Bruin.

"Fuck," I shout as I see he's aiming his gun at Layla. Lía yanks his arm up as he fires, and I stop breathing as everything feels as if it's frozen.

In fluid motion, she pulls her garrote from her belt, squeezing her thighs tightly to keep from falling. Bruin tries to throw her off, the idiot tossing his firearm as he reaches over his head to grab her by the throat.

As she evades him, I move through the fighting groups of people to get to her, only to see Jordan beating the shit out of Bruin. He punches him not to hurt him, but distract him, since he can't feel pain. As I hit anyone near me, I watch the way Bruin doesn't flinch once as Jordan unleashes hell on him.

Fuck, he's got a mean right hook though. Damn. It's not a good time to be rock hard at the moment, but I can't help it. Jordan Miles is gorgeous when he's pissed off.

Lía pulls back hard, allowing the cord to shred through the layers of corded muscle. The effort forces a growl from her as she leans back into the motion. Slowly, Bruin drops to his knees, allowing Lía to stand on his legs as she continues to pull. Gurgling greets me as I arrive by their sides, breathing hard.

"Bastard is taking forever to die," I comment, kissing her temple. "Would you like to borrow a little muscle, or are you good?"

"Muscle would be really helpful, baby," she growls, making me chuckle as I step behind her to cover her hands to help her pull, severing his trachea completely.

Letting go, she leaves the wire embedded in his skin, shoving him face first into the carpet.

"Did they get out?" Lía asks as I hand her a mask and voice changer. It's showtime. There's a forgotten mic on a table behind me, and I pick it up, lifting her onto it for height.

"Help me look," I tell her, beginning my search through the chaos. A head of purple hair and another of blonde disappear out an exit, making me sigh in relief. "They're out!"

Lía pulls on the devil's mask and puts on the voice changer before turning on the mic. A scream pierces the air, long and screechy. Fuck, if I didn't know it was her and I was superstitious, I'd be shitting my pants.

People freeze in their tracks, allowing the rest of Layla's friends to get away. These assholes were using the distraction as a way to kill their own rivals, opportunistic little twats.

"Did you enjoy yourselves?" Lía asks. "Your king is dead, and you're scrambling to kill each other. Your need to overindulge is coming to an end. Seán O'Brien allowed you to roam free within reason, until you stepped out of line. At that point, he sent me after you. The Banshee is not just a story he told as a fucked up bedtime story to you all. I was created. Some of you helped, if you remember."

I watch to see who pales, who runs out of the building, and who drops into their seats on the verge of fainting. Every one of them goes on my purge list. Our organization has a new queen, they need to accept it instead of planning how to assassinate her.

"Tonight, you get to see who is behind the mask. I will not accept insubordination. I will not accept plots to murder me. I cannot be killed," she growls.

I've held her dying body in my arms, I know this beautiful demon to be made of flesh and blood, the difference is that I will not let her fall.

Pulling off the mask and dropping the voice changer as she stands barefoot on the table, she glares out at her audience. "Daddy made sure just enough people have lived to tell you all about the special treatment I gave them," she growls.

" Deamhan !" Doyle yells, pointing at her. For as many times as they planned and plotted together, Seán never truly explained his vision. Not once. "A demon killed Seán O'Brien! Are we really going to let this stand?"

"Maybe I am a demon," Lía says with a wicked baring of teeth. The blood is still wet on her hands from killing Bruin, but she doesn't give a single fuck. "Daddy named me as his heir, which puts me in charge. Anyone who was previously in a leadership position, no longer is. All of his advisors have been stripped of their titles. I will be building myself a group of trusted people, since most of you think I should be dead."

"I never said that," my father says, shaking his head. "You're going to need people to help you, Líadan."

My girl snorts at his words, shaking her head.

"Seán had bugs in his home," Jordan grunts beside me. "The things he says and the way he treats women is disgusting."

"Yeah, Dad is an asshole," I mutter. "He killed my mother when I was three. He's not getting anywhere near our girl."

Jordan smirks at my words, but nods.

"What happened to getting married?" Dad asks. "I'd make a fine husband, Líadan."

I think I just puked in my mouth.

Pulling my reserve gun from its holster, I do what I've been wanting to do for years. The recoil of the firearm as I shoot my father is almost as satisfying as knowing the light died in Bruin's eyes tonight.

"I believe Brendan just declined that very offensive offer from his father," Lía says cheerfully. "I will be sending out invitations that are non-negotiable to come visit me in Chicago. Failure to meet with me will result in your death. I will not be marrying anyone at this time, and when and if I do, it will not be up for discussion. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yes," the room grumbles in unison.

"Perfect. Now, the club is closed. Gather your belongings without bloodshed and get the fuck out," she growls, hopping down.

Dropping the mic, she begins to walk toward the exit. Jordan scoops up her heels and jacket before following me.

"Let's be a little more regal, Princess," he mutters, dropping to his knees to help her put on her shoes. Picking up the jacket, I drape it over her shoulders, because he's right. Even though she's covered in blood, there is a correct way to leave.

Unfortunately, we don't have transportation to get back, so we disappear into a subway station before anyone else leaves.

"Alright, folks, we shouldn't return to the hotel tonight. I'm booking us a room somewhere else and we're going incognito," Jordan says brightly, already working on his phone.

"I already had a maid remove both of your clothes and belongings," I say with a shrug as they glance at me. "That includes your laptop, Jordan."

"Thanks," Jordan grunts before going back to work.

Tugging Lía into my arms, I bury my face in her hair, breathing deeply. Cinnamon and apples fill my lungs as I groan.

"You are incredible and terrifying in equal parts, milseán ," I sigh. "Let's enjoy the next day or so and then regroup and figure out how to whip these deviants into shape."

"I'm pretty sure the fear will make them malleable for at least a little while," Jordan says. "Exploit the fuck out of that."

"Can you ground the planes of those who are international?" Lía asks, her mind already working.

"Uh huh," he mutters. Jordan is adorable when he's in the groove. I've noticed that he rarely wears glasses unless his eyes are tired, and they're currently firmly perched now on his nose. His hair is thoroughly rumpled in just the time he jogged down to the subway, deep in his plans.

"We have a hotel, and they're transferring our belongings now. It's all under the umbrella company your house is bought under," Jordan says as the train comes screeching in. His eyes flick up as he winks at us, looking smug and sexy as hell. "I'll work on grounding planes and bad little mafia men and women now."

Lía giggles, holy fuck, and I look down in awe at her as her eyes sparkle.

"Ding dong, the king is dead," she says with a grin as we step into the train together.

Sometimes, a little blood shed goes a long way toward helping to heal someone. I'm not an idiot, I know we have a long way to go, but her laughter is everything. It's been six years since I've heard it.

Glancing at my watch, I smile back as I see that it's two in the morning.

"Happy birthday, beautiful," I tell her, hugging her tightly to me. I'm squishing her a little, but she hasn't stabbed me yet, so I'll take it.

Jordan steals Lía easily, only because I release her instantly when he reaches out to her.

"Way to start a new year out with a bang, Princess," he teases her, dipping his head down to kiss her hard. "Looks like you're both stuck with me now."

I know we're going to have to face what this all means at some point, because this life isn't very safe. Belonging to us means he'll be a target forever.

Embracing them both, I say, "It doesn't really seem like such a hardship. Now get back to work."

Jordan's snort as we find seats in the empty train makes me smile as he works on ensuring that everyone who traveled in from outside of the country can't leave. I can only imagine how pissed off they'll all be.

Too bad I won't be able to hear their screams.