Chapter Thirty-One

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Chicago

R ubbing his chin thoughtfully, Oscar considered all the tasks he still needed to do. Just because things had worked out well so far didn’t mean he could rest on his laurels. There were miles to go before he slept—or something like that.

Now that Kevin was out of the picture, he could move forward at the pace he preferred. At the thought of his nemesis, he let a smirk twist his mouth. The idiot had never known how much he’d hated him. Playing the lackey for years had been infuriating, but also amusing because he’d known he was ten times smarter than his stupid-assed brother-in-law. The man had never had a clue. Kevin Doyle had gotten what he deserved, but Oscar had never thought Kevin’s demise would come at the man’s own hand. That had been just too perfect to consider.

When he’d told Ryan, his nephew, what his father had done, the boy hadn’t believed him at first. Why would he? Ryan hadn’t known about the McAlister girl or what his father had planned. Learning that his father had killed his mother had come out of the blue. Not that Ryan had any kind of affection for the old bastard. Kevin Doyle had been a shitty father.

But Ryan, despite his upbringing and who his father had been, had na?vely believed the coroner’s report that an aneurysm had taken his mother’s life. He had grieved like any good son who’d adored his mama. Though Ryan had been furious at the way his father had handled her burial service, Oscar knew Ryan hadn’t considered that his father had had anything to do with her death.

Oscar wasn’t one for regrets. They never did a damn bit of good. But in this situation, he did feel an unfamiliar tinge. If he’d had any inkling what his brother-in-law had had up his sleeve, he could have prevented his sister’s death. The idea that Kevin would want the girl for himself had never once crossed his mind. Why would it? Not only had the slimy slug been almost thirty years older than the girl, he’d been married to a wonderful woman. Bridget had given Doyle a good strong son, overseen his household, and supported her husband in every way a good Irish wife was supposed to. The very idea that the man hadn’t appreciated her went against everything Oscar believed in.

Susan, his own dear wife, God rest her soul, had died in childbirth. Even though she’d managed only to give him a sickly daughter who’d died when she was still an infant, he’d never held that against her. She’d done her best. And while he’d had plenty of women to warm his bed over the years, he’d never replaced her. To him, marriage was a sacred oath.

Kevin Doyle had broken that oath and thrown it to the wind as if it were chaff. He’d gotten what he deserved.

Oscar let the scenario play out in his head of what had likely gone down the night Ryan had gone to confront his father. When his nephew had finally accepted the truth of what his father had done, he’d said he was just going to talk with him. He hadn’t acknowledged it at the time, but Oscar knew that Ryan had left with vengeance in his heart. He believed the intent had been to torture and maim his father until he gave him the truth.

He imagined Kevin sitting at his desk, pulling his hair out because the girl had gotten away. Then he’d likely heard his son coming up the stairs for him. At three o’clock in the morning, he wouldn’t have had any doubts of why Ryan was coming to see him. Especially when Oscar had done his own little bit of torture and sent him a photo of the bloody coroner with a prediction: You’re a dead man.

Kevin had no doubt been thinking about how it had all gone wrong right before he’d put a bullet through his head. Picturing that scenario brought a smile to Oscar’s face.

Ryan still didn’t know about the girl, and Oscar had no intention of telling him. Not only was Ryan not interested in the darker side of the business world, this was Oscar’s game now, and no one else would be invited to play.

Of course, the game couldn’t continue until he got the girl back. He had no idea where she was now. When he’d learned she had escaped, he’d been just as shocked as Kevin likely had been. The brief glimpse he’d gotten of her before Kevin had shipped her off to the kennel had been unimpressive. She was pretty enough, with her short, silky, black hair and ivory skin, but she also looked like a feather could knock her down. After days of starvation, how she’d escaped remained a stunning mystery.

The fact that she had somehow taken down both Kip and Miles had been an astonishing and frankly unbelievable bit of news. He knew that Kip was dead. His body had mysteriously shown up at a morgue with a bullet between his eyes. As far as he knew, no one had been fingered for the crime.

Miles had been another matter. He had called Oscar, ranting about the girl and how she’d killed Kip and had shot him. He had actually had the audacity to ask for help, and Oscar, being the compassionate man that he was, promised to bring him medical aid.

A smile twitched at Oscar’s mouth when he remembered the expression on Miles’s face when it had just been Oscar to show up with another bullet for him. After messing up so spectacularly, the idiot had actually believed he deserved help. Miles was now rotting at the bottom of Lake Michigan. He had gotten exactly what he deserved.

So he was now the captain of this ship and he was going to sail it as he saw fit. Once he found the girl again—and he would find her—he would do things right. First, he had no romantic or sexual interest in the girl. She was a means to an end. Second, he had absolutely no sentimental attachment to her bloodline. The old days were over and done with, never to return. Third, and finally, once she’d performed the tasks he set before her and done what he needed her to do, he would do away with her. She would be a liability and a loose end.

Oscar sat back in the chair and contemplated the future. A future that included all the things he’d been deprived of all his life. Playing second fiddle hadn’t been easy. Having people think of him as slow or dumb had often worked to his advantage, but that didn’t mean he’d enjoyed it. But now he would reap the benefits of all his hard work.

But first, he had calls to make, deals to offer, and an elusive butterfly to catch.