23. Lorcán

I knewthis was a bad idea the moment Finn brought it up, but there's nothing I can do about it.

Finn, as much as he might be entertaining Cillian being in charge, is the head of the family.

At least when our father isn't here, which has been more often than not over the past few years.

It's a hierarchy I became well aware of the moment I walked through the O'Brien front doors and realized my new reality. I was the unwanted son of an illicit affair. For all my father's downfalls, I can definitively say that out of everyone in that house, I felt like he was the only one who didn't hate me. However, I knew I'd never be on the same pedestal as Finn and Cillian. Yet, my stubborn dumbass couldn't quit searching for validation, wanting so badly to fit into the family that didn't want me.

I thought about leaving, starting a new life where I wasn't in the shadow of my half-brothers, but something always held me back. There was always another reason to prove myself, another way to garner my father's favor.

But I think that part of me is dead.

When Elena asked me to run away with her, I automatically said yes, but now I think I mean it.

What if I could take her away from all of this? What if I could have this one thing that belongs to me? Selfishly, I also want to take away something that Cillian wants, but more than anything, I want Elena.

She could do so much better than this life of corruption and darkness.

The warehouse starts to fill up. We have security around the perimeter, and there are extreme precautions being taken at the entryway. There was no way to prevent weapons. There never is in this town. But there's an incredibly strict list of who can and cannot be let in for the event.

Salvatore Barbieri walks in, a young, flashy Beta on his arm as he and his own personal security head towards the seats we reserved for them in the front row.

He squints at me, recognizing me from all the years I trailed behind Elena at different functions, but clearly, he can't put a name to my face.

"Mr. Barbieri, your seats."

"Weren't you one of Matteo's men?" he asks, arching one of his thick, dark eyebrows.

"Was always an O'Brien, sir. Mr. Amante kept me on as Elena's future mate."

"Ah, his daughter always was an interesting one. I suppose I can't talk," he sighs, looking off to the corner. I can almost see the festering anger bubbling inside of him over whoever took his daughter.

"It's quite odd for a leader to volunteer to go into the ring. Does Seamus' son really think he has what it takes to take on my top fighter?" he asks me.

I don't say that I'm also Seamus' son or that Finn has been fighting his entire life. Honestly, if he wasn't expected to hold the seat for the family, he could have gone professional. I think we would've all been happier for it.

"Everyone loves an underdog."

"I don't," he states plainly as he takes his seat.

The man looks like the embodiment of a mafia don as he sits in his expensive Italian suit with a giggling Beta on his lap.

The only people working the event are trusted employees from our casino. They're being paid triple plus tips to be here, and they all know how to keep their fucking mouths shut.

The girls are handing out drinks as more people funnel into the warehouse. We capped the list at one hundred, and even that feels like too many. In any other circumstance, I'd never allow Elena to come to an event like this.

As much as I hate Finn's reasoning, I also understand it.

Anthony Amante needs to be taken care of immediately. I know that more than anyone. I know the man's secrets, and that's why he wants me dead and his sister in the hands of some sadistic bastards.

Matteo Amante's death truly created a massive hole in the Italian mafia structure in the West. Our only hope is to create a better ally by letting Salvatore know that we had nothing to do with his daughter and we're on the same side.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the ten-minute warning before our fighters take the ring," the announcer says over the speaker, and I wait.

Declan holds Elena's hand as Cillian walks behind her. We have three more security personnel flanking them as they make their way to our seats.

Cillian sits next to Mr. Barbieri, and Elena sits next to him. Despite Declan's protest, I take her other side, and he takes the last seat in the row, where he looks intently around the booming space.

"Glad to see you walking around, Cillian."

"Not so bad for my first bullet," Cillian replies with a smile, acting like his leg isn't killing him right now.

"And it was your brother who inflicted this wound, Miss Amante?" he knowingly prods, with a smile in our Omega's direction.

She leans forward and returns the smile.

"My brother had a little fit about my pack of choice."

"Ah. We'd all heard you ran away, but I didn't realize until recently that it was into the arms of the Irish."

"What can I say? I love to be difficult," she jokes, playing the part perfectly. Salvatore smiles and shakes his head.

"You haven't heard from Natasha, have you?" he asks, clearly a plea from a desperate man.

Elena reaches over Cillian, and I watch him stiffen. He hasn't been this close, close enough to scent her, since before everything happened. She holds Mr. Barbieri's hand. His date seems affronted by the physical touch. I'm of the same sentiment. I want to break his hand at the wrist for touching what's mine, but I just sit back, watch, and wait.

"If I hear anything, you'll be the first to know. But we both know Natasha is tougher than nails. Whoever took her will definitely be paying for it."

He gives her a soft smile, and she drops his hand.

"Right, well, let's see if the Irish are as good at fighting as they claim to be," Barbieri says, changing the subject.

We don't reply, knowing that it doesn't matter who he sent to fight Finn.

Finn doesn't lose.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's showdown. Let's get started. Weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, we have Finn O'Brien," he shouts.

There's a mixture of claps and boos. Elena doesn't react, and I squeeze her thigh. She looks down at the touch and then my face before she registers what she's supposed to do.

She shouts along with the crowd and claps her hands, rooting for the man who locked her in a room for three days.

"Tonight's opponent is one new to the ring here at Sunset. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty-five pounds, we have Alessio Barbieri!"

"You sent in your son?" Elena questions with shock, and Salvatore laughs, shaking his head.

"I need to make sure he doesn't turn out to be a disappointment. We both know how that can be," he says.

Elena sits back in her chair, her knee that's close to Cillian bouncing frantically. My brother places his hand on her bare leg and holds it there to calm her down, but I can see how irritated she is and how hard she's trying to tone it down.

By some miracle Elena doesn't push Cillian's hand off of her while she listens to the announcer. Both of the men take the ring, and her eyes widen ever so slightly seeing Finn shirtless for the first time.

She leans into me, and I shift so she can whisper in my ear.

"Alessio was all state for wrestling, he's known to be the man Salvatore sends for traitors. Is this really something Finn can handle?"

I can't help myself as I wrap a hand in her hair to bring her ear closer to my mouth. Cillian looks over at me with unabashed jealousy, and I won't deny that I like it more than I should.

"It doesn't matter if he wins or loses, it's all about showing Salvatore we're willing to do anything to work with him. If the head boss is willing to get into the ring to prove himself, that's all that matters."

She nods her head, and her blonde strands slip through my fingers as I face the ring once again.

"At least it will be nice to watch him get the shite kicked out of him for once," Declan comments casually from next to me.

He isn't wrong.

It's sick that a part of me wants to see Finn get his ass kicked. I wish it wasn't like this; I wish there wasn't so much animosity between us, that we were actually brothers. Fuck, I wish we could just be a functional pack. But outside of the facade we're putting on in front of Salvatore and his men, it's all a disaster.

Both of the men put their mouth guards in as the ref goes over the rules. Finn looks a little leaner than Alessio, more firmly made of muscle. But for what Alessio lacks in muscle, he makes up for in sheer size.

The bell dings for round one, and Elena tenses in her seat. It's my natural instinct to protect her, so I throw my arm over her shoulder and toy with her hair. Her chest rises and falls with each breath as she watches the dance happening before us.

Both of them are sussing each other out, seeing who will make the first move and how they will counterattack. This isn't a professional fight; neither of them has trained on how to fight the other. It's all instinctual and gritty.

Alessio gets the first hit, and Elena gasps next to me. But Finn is quick. As his head turns to the side, he uses the momentum to recoil, getting a jab into the other Alpha's kidneys. There's already a sheen of sweat on both of their skin, and Elena covers her mouth with her hand.

"It will be okay," I say calmly to reassure her. She shakes me off as she watches the scene unfold in front of us.

No one should expect a clean fight when it comes to the corrupt men in the ring. Everything is on the table, and Finn makes that apparent when he knees Alessio's hip, sending him into the ropes.

Salvator yells something in Italian, and Elena stiffens in her seat.

"Tell him to watch his left side," Elena mumbles next to me.

But I'm too late, as multiple punches make contact with Finn's left rib cage. He needs a break and grabs hold of the Alpha so that the ref will call it. He doesn't, and Alessio uses that opportunity to knee Finn in the groin, making them separate.

The Italian Alpha then rears back and throws a fist at Finn's face.

Blood trickles from Finn's mouth, but he doesn't tap. The clock for the first round finally ticks down until he's given some reprieve. They head to their corners, taking a sip of water and rallying for the next round.

Finn looks worse for wear as he glances in our direction, his eyes locking on Elena for a few short moments before looking away.

"I don't think I can do this," she mumbles.

"He usually sandbags in the first round. He'll be alright," I tell her. She shakes her head but says nothing else. Even in this crowded place, I can smell her scent, which has gone sour. What's normally sweet has a burnt edge to it.

The bell rings again, and the fight restarts where it left off. Elena's one hand actually seeks refuge over the hand Cillian has on her thigh, while the other one covers her mouth and nose slightly.

Alessio strikes fast in this round, decking Finn in the face.

"No, that's it. I can't," Elena huffs, standing up.

"Too much for your sensitivities, bella?" Salvatore taunts with an arched brow.

"She's very possessive of her pack. She hasn't seen him fight like this before," Cillian defends her.

"Very well, this isn't really the place for an Omega anyway," the mob boss adds.

I can tell Cillian is irritated with the man but lets it pass.

"Watch our backs," I tell Declan, and he nods as I trail Elena to the bathroom. The noise of the fight is still loud behind us as she swings the door open and heads to the bathroom stall to throw up.

I fist her hair in my hand and rub her back as she empties her stomach. She unravels the toilet paper and cleans her face before flushing the toilet. I try to hold back my grimace at how filthy the warehouse bathroom is, and so does she as she heads to the sink to thoroughly wash your hands.

"I didn't expect you to have such a reaction," I comment, knowing full well Elena has seen her fair share of violence.

Her reflection looks up at me, and there's a sadness written in her expressive blue eyes.

"He's my scent match, Lorcán," she softly confesses.

I think a part of me dies at that very moment.