The Real Deal: A Dublin Nights Novel

by Sahin, Brittney

  “I’ll find their ma,” he said as if he needed to hear the words himself, to believe them to be true.

  “I’m sure you will.” And God did I hope so. The boys deserved a happy ending, and maybe, somehow, I’d even get my own, too.

  Chapter Thirty

  Holly

  Harrison stood in the doorway of my office dressed in jeans and a brown cable-knit jumper, his stance tense, his lips drawn tight. Eyes warily observing me as if unsure whether to accept my invitation to enter.

  I stood and smoothed my hands along the sides of my red jumpsuit. “Hi.” Yup, that was the brilliance I came up with.

  He leaned into the frame, clearly not interested in joining me. “I have to catch a flight back to L.A. in two hours. I wanted to check on you and say goodbye.”

  I hoped after all of this was over we could stay friends, regardless of whether our companies ultimately worked together.

  “How are you?” His brows drew together as I wiped my finger beneath my eye, a dampness there.

  Shit, tears? I was supposed to remain steady and strong. Well, during daytime work hours, at least. After? It’d be about retail therapy on Grafton, followed by a candlelit bath with sappy tunes, and a glass of red (or three).

  “I, um.” I still didn’t know what to say. So much had happened since he’d laid the truth on me on Thursday.

  “I would’ve stopped by sooner, but I heard how Cole reacted to the information I gave you and what happened at the club. I guess I felt responsible.” He stood at his full height and finally entered. Only two steps. Two very afraid-to-be-near-me steps.

  “Not your fault at all. You were trying to help.” I was pretty sure trying to defend Sebastian right now would go horribly, so I refrained. I finally circled my desk to stand before him. “Thank you for coming and—”

  “I need time to think things through,” he interrupted.

  About the deal? Our friendship? What? But I held my questions at bay.

  “I’ll call you.” He gently grabbed hold of my bicep, leaned in, and pressed his lips to my cheek and left.

  I turned to my desk but lifted my eyes to the bookshelf. The books were color-coded by their spines, and it reminded me of Sebastian’s alcohol arrangement—color-coded, as well.

  I approached the bookshelf, my eyes falling upon The Count of Monte Cristo. I pulled the first edition from the shelf and opened it, thumbing through the pages.

  Edmond Dantes. A sailor. Wrongly accused and imprisoned. A vengeance seeker.

  Was Sebastian like Dantes?

  I brought the book to my chest, leaned my back to the bookshelf, and closed my eyes. My skin grew warm as heat blazed up my spine. He was there, wasn’t he?

  “Sebastian,” I whispered, taking the chance it was him and not Bella or Sean.

  “One of my favorites.” The deep timbre of Sebastian’s voice had me opening my eyes.

  “I, uh, was just thinking about you,” I admitted and turned to put the book back in its place.

  “Last night went differently than I’d expected.” Sean didn’t exactly shake his hand or pat him on the back before Sebastian left after the movie with the kids, but he didn’t yell or punch, either.

  When I faced him, he was working the top button free of his blue dress shirt. He leaned back against the glass wall alongside my closed door.

  It was warmer today, and he’d probably come sans coat. Sans? Great, I’m speaking French now. The effect this man had on me . . . I knew all of twenty words in the language before he French kissed me that first time, and it was as if he’d infused the entire language into every crevice of my being with that hot tongue of his.

  “Thank you again for last night.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. I had a good time.”

  “I don’t have long, I just wanted to stop by and let you know I need to catch a flight to London.” He remained against the wall as if space between us was necessary. “The CEO at Paulson Incorporated isn’t open to the new deal. I spoke with him this morning.”

  “Because he has no intention of creating jobs in Limerick.” My body grew tense. This conversation was a reminder that there were still secrets and lies between us. “Because Paulson is a shell company of Drake Anderson’s, and he’s Alliance.”

  This time, he did push away from the wall, but instead of coming closer, he tucked his hands into his pockets. “Harrison also told you that?”

  I crossed my arms, hoping I could maintain my footing, worried my knees would buckle during a conversation I hadn’t been prepared to have. I’d hoped to cling to the fantasy of last night a touch longer, before the reality of our situation set back in.

  “I have no idea why Anderson wants your land, it could quite possibly be just to piss me off since I had his brother-in-law killed.”

  “I’m so confused.” And maybe I wouldn’t be if I didn’t have Harrison’s words in my head and a few comments here and there from Sebastian since then. We needed to set the record straight. But here?

  “Earlier this year, Donovan decided to come out of whatever hole he’d been hiding in to exact his revenge against your family. I was short on time and out of town, so I struck a deal. Basically, a blank check in favors owed to Anderson to keep your family safe.”

  “I still don’t—”

  “Anderson agreed to let me have Donovan killed without consequences.”

  “But now you owe him because of it?” I looked away, struggling to process everything.

  “Yes, and one of the favors is getting you to sell your land in Limerick.” My gaze flew back his way. “I joined your company long before he called in his request. I was truly trying to help you out when your stock took a dive after Anna’s kidnapping.”

  I wanted to believe him, but there were still so many unknowns.

  “If I don’t sell the land, what happens?” My palms went flat against my abdomen.

  “If I don’t hold up my end of the deal, then he won’t hold up his.”

  “My safety?” He remained quiet, but I took his silence as a yes. “This can’t be the only favor you owe him, am I right?”

  “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, refusing to answer my question. “I’m sorry how everything turned out.” Regret floated through his words. “I’m heading to London to try and reason with him, but I don’t think he’ll bend.” His voice was flat, tight—a struggle to keep his emotions in check and maintain a steady resolve to get through this conversation.

  My shoulders sank, my thoughts collapsing as well.

  “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to change his mind.”

  And I wanted to argue that it was a waste of time to go talk to him given Anderson was a criminal, but I couldn’t seem to get the words out.

  He avoided my eyes, then turned.

  “Be safe,” I sputtered. “And maybe when you’re home, we can talk more?”

  Home. Why’d Sebastian feel like home to me now?

  He glanced back, a painfully sad look in his eyes, then nodded and left without a word.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  London, England

  Sebastian

  He’d followed me. Fecking hell.

  I took a quick turn down an alley between two buildings and spun around. I grabbed Cole McGregor by the shoulders and forcefully pinned him to the brick wall. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

  “Someone has to make my cousin open her eyes, to see the truth about who you really are.” He shoved at my chest, but I didn’t budge.

  My fingertips bit into his brown leather jacket as I maintained a firm grip. “I’m trying to protect you. Don’t you get that? Alessia would want you safe.”

  His eyes darkened and narrowed, guilt present in the draw of his lips. “Alessia wanted a brother and look what happened.”

  I released him and backed up, and he shook out his arms at his sides but kept his back to the wall.

  “I’d give anything to trade my life for hers,” I admitted, my tone softer now. “And
you’re right, she is dead because of me. Dead because someone wanted me to suffer unimaginable pain, knowing how much she meant to me.” Something inside of me wanted to snap. To break in half and just open up to a stranger who seemed to be sharing my grief. “She didn’t deserve what happened.” I could barely get the words out, my throat dry. “I warned her I was dangerous, that nothing good would come of her associating herself with me, but she was stubborn.”

  He dropped his gaze to the wet pavement beneath his shoes. The rain had let up only minutes ago.

  “I did my best to protect her, to keep her safe,” I added. “And I failed. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

  He was quiet as if finally absorbing the truth of my words, perhaps believing me.

  “And the men who killed her are dead?” His voice was low. Weak. The sound of defeat an echo in the alley.

  “Human traffickers from Serbia. All dead.”

  His gaze moved to my face. “How’d they die?”

  I drew up the memory of that night as if it were fresh, the wound at my side still bleeding. “My knife,” I said, swallowing hard. “But the people connected with Donovan Hannigan are far more dangerous than those men.” I took a step closer since it appeared he didn’t plan to swing. “You have to stay out of my way while I work to keep Holly and your family safe. Please, go home.”

  He ran his palm over his face, both eyes still a little swollen. Bruises on his jawline and around his mouth.

  “Alessia . . . she regretted leaving you behind.” She hadn’t directly admitted it, but the night we bought the club, I’d seen the change in her mood. The effect even the mention of his name had on her. She’d mourned the loss of their friendship as if he’d died. “How close were you two?”

  His lips twitched into a near smile, but it quickly faded. The happy memories I had of her, of my ma, had a way of doing that to me as well before the pain took over. “I looked after her when it was clear she had no one else.” He lowered his eyes to the ground again. “But after she learned about you, she began partying even more than normal, and one night we got into a fight.” He turned to the side, facing the back of the alley. “The last time we talked was the night of that fight, and now . . .”

  “When Alessia made up her mind about something, she refused to back down. You couldn’t have stopped her from coming for me if, um, if that’s why you were fighting.”

  I glanced at my watch. I only had a few minutes to make it to my meeting with Anderson, but I couldn’t have Cole shadowing my every move.

  “I still want to kill you, but what do I need to do to keep my cousins safe?”

  He was going to be a stubborn thorn in my side, wasn’t he? “You should go back to New York and let me handle things.”

  “I can’t turn my back on my family.” His voice thickened with anger, a contrast to the sadness gripping his tone a few moments ago. “And Dublin is still my home, so like hell will I let some corrupt group try and rip it apart if that’s what’s happening.”

  “There’s only one way you take down this enemy,” I informed him, “and you’re not equipped to handle it, trust me.”

  He cocked his head. “And what way is that?”

  “From the inside.” The only reason I was even keeping up this conversation was out of respect for Alessia, and because he’d stepped in for her before I’d known she existed. I owed him for that. And I always paid my debts.

  “Will you take them down?”

  I thought about Emilia Calibrisi, and her desire to go after The Alliance, but I didn’t see a way to do that without innocent people getting hurt. “If I go after them, a target will be placed on Holly’s head.” My fingers tore through my hair, my muscles locking tight. A sense of helplessness wasn’t something I was used to. “I need to go.”

  “You know no one will ever be safe as long as these arseholes are still out there, right?” He turned on his heel and started back for the street. And damn how much I hated that he was right.

  * * *

  Drake Anderson tightened the knot of his blue silk tie, his eyes laser-focused on me from where he sat behind his desk. One green eye. One blue. And I was doing my best not to lunge forward and strangle the life out of the fifty-five-year-old bastard.

  “This is it. I’m done after this. Done with your games.” I’d lied to Holly, told her I was going to London to reason with this arsehole about the land, but in reality, the son of a bitch had summoned me.

  Months of bullshit favors. Little things here and there. But his more recent request to force the McGregors to sell their land had nearly pushed me over the edge.

  “One more favor, and we’re done.”

  My hands knotted on my thighs. “What do you want?”

  “Before that, let’s put an end to this ridiculous proposal of yours to buy a different plot of land in Limerick.” He lifted his tumbler and took a drink.

  “You don’t give a damn about the McGregors’ land, you just enjoy pulling my strings.”

  “I do have plans for it, but part of me wants to burn the entire plot just to see how much it makes your lovely Holly cry.” His words were cold and calculated. Heartless. “I’m moving up the deadline to Friday. The McGregors need to sell by then, or our arrangement is over.”

  He set his drink down and smoothed both hands along the edges of his ice-blond hair. He looked like a damn vampire with his pale skin. A fecking bloodsucker.

  I had to bite my tongue. I’d survived this long doing his bidding, I could get through this last meeting if it meant ensuring Holly’s safety.

  “Tell me, is she as good in bed as she looks?” He closed one eye, his bottom lip catching between his teeth, and I gripped the chair arms. “I bet that one likes to scream. Does she like it rough? I bet you like it rough.”

  I shot to my feet, the blood pulsing straight to my hands as I locked them tight at my sides in preparation. My fuse had been lit, and I was on fire.

  “There you are,” he crooned, his gaze tightening on me. “Let the beast out. Let loose the dangerous man The Alliance has feared for years.” He grinned. His skin barely moved in the process. Lines absent from Botox. “But no, you have a new woman to care for. You’d do anything to keep Holly from dying like your sister, so you won’t let him out to play, will you?”

  The sick fuck was attempting to bait me, but if I played into his hands, it would be as bad as if I handed Holly over to him.

  How the hell did he even know how much she meant to me? I closed my eyes and took a breath, fighting for control.

  “I honestly didn’t know if the plan would work, if you’d truly give up everything for a woman, again, I might add, but it looks to be true.”

  Plan? I opened my eyes.

  “I never knew my arsehole brother-in-law’s life could be worth so much. Thank you for helping me eliminate the idiot.”

  “Thank you?” I bit down on my back teeth and repeated the words.

  If I’d had Donovan eliminated without Anderson’s permission, war between our organizations would have been immediate. So, I followed protocol, laid out my case against Donovan to Anderson and sought his approval. The gobshite made me believe he cared about the pact between The League and The Alliance and wanted to maintain peace. Made me believe he gave a feck about his brother-in-law by making a show of taking his time to consider my request. In the end, he reluctantly agreed Donovan was a loose cannon and should be killed. But in return for such a loss, I would owe Anderson some favors. Turns out the fecker played me.

  Édouard Moreau had warned me about making a deal with Anderson, but what choice did I have? He didn’t want war between our organizations, either, and I couldn’t very well let the McGregors get slaughtered because Donovan was a vengeful son of a bitch who’d harbored a grudge.

  “The land is yours,” I finally said even though the words were painful. I hated myself so much for making Holly give up the land she loved in Limerick, but I didn’t see any other way.

  “The final favor th
en.” He leaned back in his leather desk chair and pressed his hands to his abdomen, far too relaxed for a conversation with a man who wanted to kill him. “You are to give up your position as League leader in Ireland.”

  “Are you out of your damn mind?”

  “Oh, come on, did you really think the favors I’ve asked in the last few months would be it? You didn’t even get blood on your hands.”

  “This was the real deal? Your real plan all along?” I circled the desk, fisted the material of his dress shirt and forced him to his feet, my jaw straining. “You think I’ll just step down, let you swoop in and destroy my city?”

  He smirked, knowing he’d pulled one over on me. I wanted to wipe the smile off his face, then break his teeth and force him to swallow them one by one.

  “Your choice. Holly’s safety or remain League leader and protect Ireland.”

  I let go of his shirt and stepped back. His face was flushed, his body tense. He was pissed I’d had the audacity to touch him but refused to acknowledge I’d gotten to him. Trying to pull off casual, Anderson flicked at the material of his shirt with his manicured nails and pressed it back in place.

  My throat thickened. The choice unfathomable.

  Crime had drastically reduced after I came into power in Dublin, but now this arsehole would move in if I left.

  He’d take advantage of my absence. Danforth, the leader in the U.K., wouldn’t be able to stop him, either, and Anderson knew that. Danforth had always been the weakest link in The League.

  “And don’t go running to your League chaps either about the deal. You wouldn’t want them to convince you to stay and let your precious pet die.”

  I could end him now. Take his goddamn life with my bare hands.

  But The Alliance would come after me. Come after Holly. Hell, they’d take their revenge on everyone who knew me, wouldn’t they?

  If I killed him in his office and on his turf, it’d be game over and war between our organizations.