Heartless Mercy (The Sinful Alliance #1)

Prologue

17 - ten years ago

“Ay , ya bastard, I said I wanted a chilled pint. What is this piece of shite, eejit? ” Oisin gripes at the bartender serving drinks. Alessandro, Andrei, Oisin, and my papa gather around the table at the Hoedown Heaven for their ten-year meeting to renew their partnership over a drink while their second-in-commands sit back and watch from a distance. This year, my dad chose the meeting place: a little bar a ways from the secluded highway to give them more privacy. Having four mafia bosses in one place isn’t a good idea, but this reunion is always a priority.

Catalina and I sneak in through the backdoor of the bar, pausing near a supply closet, trying not to get caught. We see her dad, Rodrigo, who’s my dad’s second-in-command, turn his head and almost catch us just as I grab Catalina’s arm and push her into the closet. I silently close the door and turn to face her to see her almost piss her pants with laughter. Putting my hand over her mouth, I say, “Shh, you’re going to get us in trouble, diablita.”

Catalina shakes her head up and down, indicating that she’ll stop laughing. I carefully remove my hand from her mouth, and her grin is so fucking big.

“Nooo, you promised, Catalina. Do not fucking laugh. I swear to fucking God,” I declare sternly.

“I won’t, I promise. I’m just messing with you, o sito ,” Catalina promises.

“You know I hate when you use that nickname.”

“You know you love it. C’mon, you’ll always be my o sito . Even when we’re thirty, I’ll still call you that. It’s not my fault you were scared of bears when we were younger,” Catalina teases.

“I was fucking five-years-old. What kid isn’t scared of a fucking bear at that age?” I whisper-yell.

“I’m just teasing. Now shut up so we can hear what’s going on out there,” she chastises. We push closer to the door, putting our ears against it, listening intently to try and pick up on anything that they are saying. We can barely see the meeting through the cracks of the door’s hinges.

“ Bueno, pos, you know why we all gathered here today. Let’s gather a round of whiskey to toast to another ten years,” my dad, Antonio, commands. The bartender passes a round of chilled whiskey that looks more like five fingers deep instead of their usual three. I would be surprised, but knowing how big of a drinker my papa is, I can imagine the others.

“To another ten years and to our children. May they rule even better than we do,” Alejandro says. They clink their glasses and swallow the liquor like it’s water. Placing their glasses on the table, Andrei is the first to speak.

“Well, I don’t know if they can do any better than we can. Especially since… Well, I’m sorry to say, Oisin, but Maeve running the Irish mafia isn’t something that should happen.” Everybody is quiet as Oisin, like the true level-headed man he is, rises from his seat and looks directly at Andrei.

“I know Maeve wasn’t my first choice, but my son, may God rest his soul, passed before he could take over. But listen here, Andrei. Maeve will run circles around you when she takes over, and I will be laughing when she does it,” Oisin says calmly. My dad and Alejandro both pat Oisin’s back and yell, “Here, here,” in solidarity. Oisin gestures for his second-in-command to gather his SUV. My papa and Alejandro give him a handshake and whisper in his ear before patting his back goodbye.

“God, I don’t know how Irina lives with a man like that. We are so fucked when her oldest brother, Ilya, takes over,” I whisper to Catalina.

“I secretly hope all three of her brothers, along with their dad, get wiped out by someone and leave Irina in charge. Wouldn’t that make him so fucking mad?” She laughs.

“We may have clinked glasses to another ten years, Andrei, but you better be careful, because that will only get you so far. If you step out of line again, it’s three against one and you’ll know what will happen,” my papa threatens. Everyone gets up, and Catalina and I hightail it outta the bar.

I don’t know when I’ll be in charge, but there’s one thing I know for certain: Andrei Sokolov or any of his sons have another thing coming if they think they’ll be able to pull this shit when Niccolo, Maeve, and I are in charge.

Mark my words: One wrong move, and we’ll bring them down.