Conall (2 page)

“Doesn’t that get me something? You can’t cut me a break? Please, Conall, have mercy,” he begged.

“You’re right. I should have mercy. Too bad it was beaten out of me when I was seven years old.” His finger squeezed the trigger and the old man’s lackey jerked from the expulsion of the bullet into his brain. Matter sprayed out the other side and the body in the chair immediately went lax.

“Dillon. I need to go meet with Kieran and let him know what I found. I have that charity event tomorrow night at the JFK Library, so I’ll need to have Margorie pick up my tuxedo from the cleaners.” Cleaning his hands with his cloth, he began walking toward the front of the room. His coat was thrown over a chair that had been left behind by the previous occupants. “I’ll be in the office tomorrow at eight for a meeting with some potential new clients from Hong Kong. I need you there to screen them before they get up to my office. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Dillon wasn’t surprised by the quick change in Conall’s behavior and his ability to switch from ruthless killer to businessman. He had seen this change many times before. Conall was an enigma. That ability to live and move efficiently between two worlds was something that seemed to come naturally for him.

“The cleanup crew needs to be called. I want everything in this building cleaned out and then I want no traces of this building left standing.” The green of his eyes had changed and his pupils were almost black.

“Yes, sir.”

Conall grabbed his coat and exited the room where the smell of death was beginning to permeate the air around him. Kieran would not be happy about the information he’d uncovered tonight. Drugs. That was the lowest shit Old Man O’Shea could get into. And dealing with the Italians on Federal Hill to boot? He was not in the fucking mood for this shit. The old man was a fucking fool and now they had to not only get rid of him, but deal with the fallout and trying to smooth things over with the guys in Providence. Seated in his car, his driver sped through the outskirts of Boston and sped toward Irish, the bar owned by Kieran. He needed a drink. “Fuck!”

* * * * *

Antonio “Tony” Barbosa was practically pissing his pants. What the fuck had he gotten himself into? Conall O’Shea had just killed someone in cold blood and Tony had watched him do it.

He was no angel himself, but damn. The guy he had been told to meet at the old warehouse in Dorchester was now dead at the hands of one of the most influential businessmen Tony had ever heard of. Everyone knew of Blackbird Consulting and the founder’s connection to Kieran O’Shea, the local councilman. Hell, it was no secret that their father was a shady fuck who did whatever he wanted to do and had half the city in his back pocket. The only question was who owned the other half. Tony had a nagging feeling he had just found out.

When he’d arrived at the meeting place, all he had to do was pick up the package. The money had already been exchanged through other means, so he had none of the payment on him. Literally, he was just an errand boy. Now, he was witness to a fucking mob hit and he knew too damn much about Old Man O’Shea’s plans. His breathing became shallow and he started to hyperventilate. What the hell was he going to do now? Tatiana, his older sister and self-appointed guardian, was going to kill him. That is, if the Irish Mob didn’t get him first. Then again, with this fuck-up of epic proportions, the Italian Mob might get to him first.

One day he would learn. His sister had been warning him to clean up his act for years now, but he had ignored her. He’d always scoff at her when she lectured him about it. What the hell did she know anyway? She was a goody two-shoes and would never understand what he had to go through. Well, apparently, she was right and he was well and truly fucked.

Hearing the shuffling of bodies and the voices of the men that had been left behind, Tony continued crouching behind the stack of old carpets that were piled in the corner. Prior to the meeting today, he had scoped out the building and found an alternate entrance that would keep him hidden until he wanted to be discovered. Thank God he’d found that second entrance. It had saved his ass today.

“Think, Tony!” he said to himself over and over again. “Get the hell out of here.” Since they hadn’t seen him yet, he knew if he could find a way to get out of this building, he would be okay. Bending down, he untied his shoes and slipped them off. Placing them inside his coat, he knew there was no way he would leave them behind. Just his luck, they would find them and find a way to trace them back to him, somehow.

He’d never moved so slowly in his life, but somehow he managed to get out of the room and exit the way he’d come in. There wasn’t a door, but a series of twists and turns in a back hallway and as long as he stayed low, stayed quiet, and got the hell out of here, he would be free. Now, all he would need to do is make up some bullshit story about how his connection wasn’t at the meet like he was supposed to be. Then what?

Tatiana! She would help him. She always helped him.

Finally exiting the building, he ran for his life as if the devil were on his heels. And if the O’Sheas ever found out what he had just seen, the devil would be the least of his worries.

Chapter Two

Conall looked out over the city from the full-length window in his office and sighed deeply. The charity event was tonight and he really did not want to go. Although he was very passionate about helping those less fortunate, he also had other things on his mind. Namely, how to make sure the plan he and his brothers had come up with to rid the world of the filth that gave them their last name. The memories flooded his mind and he couldn't help but cringe at the torture he and his brothers went through at the hands of Danny “Danny Boy” Sullivan. Old Man O’Shea had claimed he was just doing his part to help make them into men. But the constant beatings, forcing the brothers to fight not only each other, but other kids in the neighborhood, teaching them how to be thieves and delinquents, and punishing them with fists and sticks, could never be mistaken for helping them.

It had only resulted in the boys depending on themselves more than anyone else. Relying on each other for support and the strength to make it through another day. His brothers were the only men he trusted with his life. Sure, he had others who surrounded him on a daily basis, but when the shit really hit the fan, the only people he trusted were Kieran, Fionn and Shannon.

The intercom buzzed on his desk and he walked over to answer it. “Yes, Margorie?”

“Sir, you have a Ms. Tatiana Barbosa here to see you,” she said in a clipped tone. Which meant he wasn’t going to like what she said next. “She does not have an appointment, but says it’s imperative that she speak with you.”

His first thought was whether or not she was some chick he had slept with. That couldn’t be it. Anyone he spent time with knew never to come and try to find him. Especially at his place of work. “Tatiana,” he said to himself, testing the name on his tongue. No, he would definitely have remembered a name like Tatiana. Sounded French. Intrigued, he spoke again. “What time is my next appointment?”

“In thirty minutes, sir. It’s with the team handling the issue in Canada.” Oh yes, the former mistress of a high-ranking U.S. Senator had fled to Canada and was threatening to go public with the story. He had a team trying to defuse the situation and assess the validity of the threat.

“Okay, send her in. I’ll go ahead and see what this is about.” Expecting to see a tall statuesque woman resembling one of his many dalliances—slim, porcelain skin, and long, flowing blonde hair—he was stunned when he saw the woman who glided into his office.

“Ms. Barbosa?” he questioned after a moment of shocked silence. At her nod, he continued, “How can I help you?” Margorie shot the woman a hard look before closing his office as she exited to return to her work station.

Conall stood behind his large mahogany desk taking her in as he waited for her to answer his question. He knew that he had never met her before. Oh no, he would have remembered this lovely vision standing in front of him. Statuesque she was not. Porcelain could never describe her skin. As he took in the dark brown curls resting atop her head, he smiled to himself. Her hair color was not even close to blonde. Even though she was the opposite of what he expected, he had an immediate reaction to the sexy woman standing in front of him.

The light floral scent she wore tickled his senses. He wanted to dip his nose into the crook of her neck and shoulder and inhale her unique aroma. Lush curves were encased in a dark gray dress with a wide black belt cinched around her waist. Tall, knee-length black boots completed the picture. If he didn’t know any better, he would call them “Fuck-me Boots,” but he would keep that to himself for now. Her thick, curly, dark tresses gathered in a loose bun, with long tendrils escaping the professional, but carefree hairstyle. Her lips were perfectly shaped and she had a small beauty mark on the side of her face, situated just under her left eye, high on her cheekbone.

Damn, she was sexy. Whoever the hell she was, he wanted her.

“Mr. O’Shea. Thank you for allowing me to barge in like this.” Her husky voice flowed over him like honey when she spoke. Hazel eyes met his emerald ones and he wondered what he had done right in his life for this moment to be happening. And then she spoke again. “My brother came to me last night begging for help. Says he needs to be protected from the O’Shea brothers. Since you’re the only O’Shea brother that I could find, except for the Councilman, I came here.”

Shocked by her words and her audacity, he forced his features to remain calm and did not react immediately to her statement. Not bothering to respond, he simply stared at her. Not many people could state that they could hold his gaze, but this slip of a woman seemed to have no trouble. She was either very brave or very, very stupid.

“Do you know my brother, Mr. O’Shea?” she asked bluntly.

“No,” was all he said.

“How do you know? You haven’t even asked me his name,” she said, her voice wavering slightly as she seemed to finally realize how this all looked.

“And you didn’t provide it.” Walking around his desk to the sitting area in his large office, he motioned toward the small tan loveseat. “Please, have a seat, Ms. Barbosa.” After a moment’s pause, she sat down on the edge and placed her purse to the side of her. Her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her mannerisms reminded him of a schoolteacher and he barely restrained himself from asking if she were going to put him in detention. Instead, he answered the question she had initially asked. “I don’t even know who you are, so how could I respond whether or not I know your brother? Better yet, why does he think he needs protection from my brothers and me?” he asked.

Sitting in one of the wing-backed chairs across from the loveseat, he crossed his legs and rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, his hand rubbing his chin in contemplation. His gaze never left her face and he noticed her cheeks taking on a berry-colored hue. Hmmm, interesting.

She seemed to think about his question in detail. Her perfectly arched eyebrows came down in a frown. “Actually, I don’t know why he would say that. Well, I do, but it doesn’t make any sense. My brother is not the most upstanding of people. But he’s my brother and when he came to my house last night, he was scared. You were the least scary of the bunch and the most approachable. So, here I am. I need to find out what’s going on.”

Damn! Last night?
Wait, she thinks he was the least scary? He wanted to laugh at the irony. Did she know what his family did? Tilting his head to look at her a little more closely. Only one question came to mind. “Why?” he asked.

“Why what?” she responded, her brow creased in confusion.

“Why do you need to find out what’s going on? Shouldn’t your brother be here instead?” The question flowed off his lips.

“That’s not how this works. I’m the oldest. I do what’s necessary to protect my brother. You’re a businessman. I’m a businesswoman. I figured we could speak about this like adults. Whatever my brother did to you or your family, we can fix it.” The words rushed out of her mouth.

“Is that right?” At her nod, he continued, “Okay, so tell me, what happened last night?” he said in a calm voice.

Inside his mind, he had immediately figured that her brother had been somewhere near the warehouse. But how could he? No, he would call Fionn or Shannon and see if they knew anything. Still, there was a tingling feeling in his shoulders that neither of his brothers would have any idea what he was talking about. No. This was about him. What he had done. He was mentally going over the layout of the warehouse they were in last night. Who saw them go inside and if anyone was there when they left. The coincidence could not be denied.

“That’s why I’m here. Listen, you don’t know me and I don’t know you. But, I protect my brother, even when he doesn’t deserve it. As I said, if he’s done something to piss you off, I need to know what it is.” The sultriness of her voice wasn’t forced and he was positive she had no idea how it was affecting him.

“I know what your brother may have told you, but I don’t know who he is.” Although he would sure as fuck find out soon enough. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”

Which was a damn lie. If her brother had seen him last night, he had every right to be scared.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” she said with a deep sigh. “Actually, my being here doesn’t make sense. I’m not sure why I thought I could come down here and ask you about this. Even if my brother was mixed up with you, it’s not like you would tell me,” she said with a curl to her lip.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t,” he answered honestly. At the stunned look on her face, he simply sat quietly and waited for her next move.

“Why did you agree to see me?” she asked.

“I thought you were someone else,” he answered quickly.

“Oh,” she said under her breath. Then her eyes hardened and she stood up. “Then I’ll be leaving. I didn’t mean to bother you, Mr. O’Shea. I just felt compelled to try and see you and find out what was going on with my brother.”