Page 24 of Forced Mafia Bride

The weight of my sins pressed down on my shoulders, forcing me to take the hand of the man I should never have trusted.

Proudly like a peacock, he led me to the door, showcasing his latest conquest to make his enemy bite the dust. I bowed my head in shame, hurriedly falling in step beside my captor to escape the curses Ronan flung at me.

Chapter 10 – Nikolai

“We both know that these things are easier to put on paper. Executing the task? Now, that’s where the real work starts. It took lots of effort. Thanks, man.”

“I know. I still don’t want it.”

Anatoly grinned at the blond and threw a side glance at me over his shoulder. “Saints like this are pretty hard to find now, Niko. We should keep him.” The folded brown envelope bounced on and off his chest as he turned to pick a filled tumbler off the table. “At least accept the drink.”

“I’m not thirsty either.”

“Definitely a saint.” Anatoly chuckled and threw the envelope on the table, collapsing on the sofa to help himself with the Vodka in the glass.

I rubbed my knee, crossing one leg over the other, and raised a brow at him. He didn’t budge, maintained a poker face, with his arms clasped behind his back and his legs spread only slightly apart. He looked like a soldier in the army, dressed in a suit and reporting for duty, not a thing out of place.

“Just take it, Aiden. You deserve it for all your hard work. Don’t think of it as payment but a rare expression of gratitude. You’ve earned it.”

“The boss insists,” Anatoly chipped in, rubbing the tattoo over his middle finger. “You can’t refuse the boss.”

Aiden ignored him, holding his focus on me. “Sir, you know I didn’t do it for the money. I never do it for the money. If there’s anyone here who should show expressions of gratitude, it is me. So, no, I humbly refuse your reward.”

Anatoly scoffed and grumbled. “A martyr then.”

I relaxed on the couch, staring at him with a smug smile and new respect.

It had been five years, five years since the reckless shootout at one of my clubs in L.A. No deep investigations were needed to know who was behind it. One of the Gallagher brothers, specifically Ronan. He had orchestrated it, his big plan for vengeance. Like the coward he was, he didn’t show up in person but sent his men to infiltrate. The plan was as simple as it was stupid. They were expected to gun down as many civilians as they could inside in order to pin their deaths on me and force the closure of my establishment. Needless to say, Ronan and his men did not succeed. His informant supplied a misinformation. The club was closed that night, and we were ready for their ambush.

There was a bloodbath, leaving most of his men dead and injured. A few survived but fled and left one badly injured man on our doorstep. They didn’t care that we could have finished him off. None of them looked back. To save themselves, they were willing to sacrifice him.

I saved that man that night. I spared his life, instructed my men to nurse his wounds, and gained an addition to my workforce when he recovered and vowed to serve me for the rest of his life.

That man was Aiden O’Connor, and he kept his word.

When Rosalyn offered to be an inside man, to supply confidential information from her brother, it was almost laughable. I had Aiden, and what he supplied was enough. For five years, he had proven to be reliable, accurate, and useful.

“No use forcing him. He’s not going to take it.”

“Thank you, sir.” He nodded, appearing more comfortable. “Your attack today has certainly angered Ronan enough to make him want to do something even more crazy. At the same time, I am uncertain because their relationship is strained. He may or may not act.”

“But I humiliated him.”

A ghostly smile passed Aiden’s mouth. “You did cause a scene.”

I shrugged. “We can’t rule out anything. You already know what to do; keep your eyes and ears open. I want every bit of information that you consider useful.”

“Yes, sir.”

I, better than anyone else, knew the level of difficulty it took to find and retain loyal men. If he wasn’t so hell-bent on crashing Ronan’s reign from the inside, I would have taken Anatoly’s advice and shaped him into one of my men.

I nodded. “Thank you, Aiden.”

He made a curt bow and turned on his heels to leave but halted abruptly. He took me in with a guarded expression. “Is she okay?”

It was quiet, so quiet that I almost missed it. It wasn’t the question or the way he’d asked it. It was why he did it, the subtle way he blinked, gulped, and rubbed his arm behind his back. He was nervous. Why was he nervous?

I smiled, adjusting on the sofa. “Interesting. The Irish princess has an admirer.”