Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Patrick

Overgrown branches scrape against my Range Rover as I drive down the cobblestone driveway. It's a beautiful house. Well, it used to be. Not anymore. It makes me wonder what's happened in Joseph Clayburn's life that's brought him into debt with us. What's made him neglect his mansion? Whatever the case, the man knew what he was getting into when he made a deal with us.

Declan is more forgiving than a lot of mafia leaders. He understands that shit happens, and people are human. What he doesn't accept, though, is evading us when we call to collect. You only get so much grace with Declan.

As I approach the stone house, I wonder if it's actually abandoned. If the guy is avoiding us and asking other syndicates for loans, I wouldn't put it past him to run. Even flee the country. It wouldn't be the first time. We'd still find him. We always find who we're looking for.

When I round the final curve, three pristine luxury cars come into view.

"Looks like someone might be here," Charlie comments.

He's one of the men I brought with me. Ian is the other. I've worked with these men for years. Not only are they friends, they're family. They'd protect me with their lives just like I'd do for them. It's the Irish way.

"Aye. Multiple someone's based on the cars. Either this guy has guards and is expecting us, or he's as dumb as he seems and didn't try to run," I say.

The three of us get out of the SUV in sync and march up the steps to the enormous porch. I glance around for cameras, noting several. Most likely, he's already seen us, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's made a run for it. Then again, the guy hasn't proven to be the brightest so far.

I draw my gun from my shoulder holster and reach out to test the door. It's unlocked, and when I twist the knob, it swings open.

"He's practically giving us the red-carpet treatment, gentlemen," I murmur as we step inside.

Unlike the outside of the home, the inside is pristine. Clean and bright. Every piece of décor shines proudly. Someone has put great care into taking care of it.

Without a word, the three of us fan out in search of Clayburn. Ian and Charlie go down a wide hall to the left while I go to the right. My shoes tap against the tile with each step, but I don't care. I'm not trying to creep up on this fucker.

Hushed voices float through the air, confirming that I'm headed in the right direction. I stroll toward them and come to a set of closed French doors. Deciding it might be good to have my men with me when I storm into the room, I pull out my phone and send a quick message to them. Right as I step forward to push my way in, Ian and Charlie approach quickly.

My backup has arrived, so it's time to get down to business. Today will go one of two ways. Payment. Or death. My gut tells me it will end with bloodshed. Fine with me. He deserves it, as far as I'm concerned. The Irish are my family, and if someone fucks over people I care about, they're doing it to me too.

One kick to the doors, and they splinter, slamming wide open to display an office to us. And right behind the oversized monstrosity of a desk is the fat bastard I'm looking for. Two other men in the room immediately rise from their chairs, reaching for what I'm assuming are weapons, but Ian and Charlie tackle them before that happens.

The goons don't know what's hit them when they're floored by a single grip that has their knees crumbling out from under them.

Joseph's pasty-white cheeks turn ruddy and jiggle as he trembles."Who are you?"

Is he asking because he truly doesn't know? How many syndicates are trying to collect from him?

"I'm Patrick Ryan. A representative of the Irish." I cross my wrists over each other, gun still in hand, and raise an eyebrow as he processes my words and the weapon he finally notices.

Joseph opens and closes his mouth over and over, like a fish in search of water.

"I'm assuming the cat's got your tongue, Joseph? Or are you just so thrilled to see me?" I smirk and tilt my head, waiting for an answer.

"I've… I've been trying to get in touch with Declan," he splutters. "He's always unavailable when I call."

Oh, the balls on this guy. The actual balls.

Anger sizzles beneath the surface, and I can't wait to take it out on this piece of shit.

"Are you saying my boss is a liar? Because he told me that he's been trying to get in contact with you for months. Dozens of times, and you haven't responded. So, is Declan Gilroy a liar?"

Joseph rolls his chair back slightly and holds his hands up. "No. Of course not. He's not a liar. What I meant was I've been meaning to reach out to him, but I know how busy he is."

Damn, this guy really is a fucking idiot. He just keeps digging his hole deeper.

Charlie and Ian have already disarmed the two other men and have guns pointed at their heads. It's possible there are more people in the house, but I'm not concerned. This guy is a pussy. No, that's not right. Pussies are too fucking pretty for him to even slightly resemble one. Besides, a pussy can take a hard pounding. This fucker will crumble with one hit.

"I'm here to collect half a million dollars… plus interest. But you know that already."

Joseph's eyes go round, as if what I just said is unexpected. How did this guy ever get to where he is? It's obvious that at one time in his life, he was successful. People fall on hard times, and the mafia recognizes that. Which is why we gave him the loan. Declan said Joseph is a criminal attorney. Or was. Who knows what the fuck he's doing now. Doesn't matter. He's going to be dead when I walk out of here. I can already tell he doesn't have the money.

"I, well, I don't have it all," he says, wiping his brow.

"How much do you have?" I keep my eyes fixed on him.

It doesn't matter the amount. Unless he's giving me the entire half a mil, he's a dead man.

"I can do ten grand today. I just need to move some things around."

"Ten grand, Joseph? Really? That's not even ten percent. You've been in debt with us for two years. I find that unacceptable, don't you?" I turn to Charlie, who nods.

"Completely unacceptable. Especially since you've been avoiding us," Charlie replies.

I lift my gun, pointing it at Joseph. "We'll take your life as payment and call it even. How does that sound?"

He raises his hands like they're going to stop the bullet that's about to pierce through him.

"Wait! Wait! I have something to offer. Hear me out!" he shouts.

Sweat pours down his temple. I smile and tip my head side to side, cracking my neck. Damn, that feels good.

I'm enjoying this. A little too much. When did I become such a sick fuck that I enjoy scaring people so much? I should probably see a therapist. I'm not going to, but I should.

"Unless you have half a million to offer me, whatever you have won't work for me."

"Hear me out. I have something better. Just let me go get it."

He's practically begging. I'm surprised he hasn't dropped to his knees already. There's time for that later. As much as I'm looking forward to killing this piece of shit, I'm intrigued by what he's going to pull out of his ass to offer as payment.

"Please. It will be worth it. I swear."

I glance back at Ian. "Zip-tie that goon's wrists, then go with Joseph to get whatever he thinks is better than money."

Within seconds, Ian has the guy he's been holding at gunpoint zip-tied at the wrists and pushes him onto a chair. I move my aim to the guy while Ian grabs Joseph and shoves him toward the doors.

"Go, asshole. Hurry the fuck up," Ian growls, elbowing him out.

"What's your boss about to offer me?" I ask the guy who's restrained.

He shrugs, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. "I don't know. I have no idea."

"You better fucking hope it's good. Otherwise, all of you are dead."