Ravenous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #4)

6. Emory

CHAPTER 6

Emory

Las Vegas

Six Years Later

D ressed in black cargo pants and a white T-shirt, I glanced at myself in the mirror. Sometimes it felt like I was staring at a stranger. Combat boots. Holster. Such a far cry from that red vibrant dress I wore the night I met the man who made me want to be something else. Someone else.

I thought about him often. Killian Brennan Cullen. After I left his bed and flew back home, I looked him up. Imagine my surprise when I learned he was connected to the Irish mafia. It was a shock to my system, and right there and then, I knew I’d stay strong and keep out of his path.

I had no intention of getting him killed. Nor did I plan on risking anyone else’s life.

But that didn’t stop me from thinking about him, dreaming about him. The way he grabbed my throat and fucked it. The merciless way he took control of my body and mind.

But just as quickly, I would remind myself of the consequences of that night and why I should try really hard to block it out.

And so, dresses weren’t me anymore.

Basilio’s wedding was an exception, only because I was one of the bridesmaids, but I still managed to strap a gun holster to my thigh. I felt naked without it.

I had been to countless weddings in the last few years. My brother, Dante, and now Priest were all working double time on expanding their families.I was happy for them, I really was, but every damned event forced me to face Killian again and again. The man who looked at me with a cold, calculating look that promised retribution, waiting for that day set me on edge.

Because there was no doubt in my mind that someway or somehow he’d make me pay for my deceit.

As for me… Well, I was still searching for answers, killing off the men who helped my father.

I shook my head, chasing those unwanted memories away.

I made my way into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee—I was a cranky bitch without it. Just as I took my first sip, relishing the warm liquid trickling down my throat, my phone vibrated.

“For fuck’s sake, can’t a woman have a little peace in the morning?” I muttered as I pulled it out, seeing my lawyer-slash-assistant-slash-right-hand woman’s name flashing on the screen.

“Yes, Ines?” I answered.

“I’m in the alley behind warehouse number five. Come right away.”

A frown formed on my forehead at her coded talk so early in the morning. Something must have come up.

“I’m on my way.”

Dropping the cup of coffee in the sink, I ran out of the kitchen and headed for the elevator of my hotel’s penthouse. It was where I spent most of my days, surrounded by nothing but desert and cactuses for miles.

During the ride down to the garage, I pondered what could have possibly gotten my infamously even-tempered right hand-slash-lawyer so rattled. She’d worked for me for the past two years. The moment we met in the middle of a courthouse, I knew we’d work great together. She was a no-bullshit kind of attorney, and I was at the point in my career where I needed to start delegating.

So, I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. I got her father, a prisoner of the Russian government at the time, out of the motherland and offered her a boatload of money to work for me.

It was the best thing I’d ever done.

I climbed in the driver’s seat and drove onto the Strip. It took all of five minutes to arrive at my destination, only to find a Ford Expedition blocking my entrance into the alley. I flashed my headlights impatiently, and the moment they spotted me, they let me through.

This couldn’t be good.

When I spotted Ines, an icy sensation rushed through me. It was in her pale, slightly horrified expression. It was in her rattled posture that she tried so desperately to disguise by leaning against her precious Mercedes, gripping her phone.

When I pulled up next to her, the Expedition blocked the entrance of the alley again. I shoved the door open, and the moment my feet touched the ground, Ines’s eyes lifted to mine.

“How bad is it?”

She pushed off her car. “Bad.”

My eyes flicked past her shoulder. “You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

She shook her head, looking like she was about to puke. We started walking, but instead of entering the warehouse, we turned the corner where a small, makeshift container was propped next to the dumpsters.

Before I could even ask, she said, “Organ trafficking,” and opened the door.

My steps faltered, that familiar fear immediately shooting through me. I’d seen and been through shit, but the cruelty of the underworld was difficult to get used to. But revealing this weakness would also make me vulnerable to my enemy. So I mentally reinforced my walls and flattened my features.

While I stood frozen, a few of my men who were cleaning up the scene flicked me a curious look. Steeling my spine, I took two steps and the air was immediately knocked from my lungs. The writing on the back wall of the container stated clearly, She’ll be next if you don’t stop . It’d been drawn in blood.

I swallowed and glanced at Ines, meeting her eyes.

“Where in the fuck are áine King and her organization?” I hissed. We’d been using her to intercept any human trafficking as the Tijuana cartel used Las Vegas to move the product. Yes, I needed the cartel to get closer to finding my daughter, but I couldn’t do anything and watch them use these girls like cattle.

And that was where áine came in.

“We never got information about this,” she murmured so nobody else could hear her. “They must have caught wind of what we’ve been doing.”

Fuck. I’d been trying to stop human and organ trafficking while playing the double agent, but I’d obviously failed.

My one night of freedom—my mistake —would haunt me forever. That wasn’t even the worst part. If it was just me at risk here, I’d let them get to me and take them on. But they had her in their clutches. My daughter.

The little girl who was innocent in all this.

I stepped farther into the container that smelled of rust and disinfectant. Coolers sat around, but it was the three small girls laid out on the small tables that captured all my focus. Precious girls who’d been slain like animals.

My stomach churned and I struggled not to be sick. All three were flayed from their throats down to their abdomens, their organs missing.

“Everyone out,” I growled as my eyes locked on the girls. Ines remained standing, knowing my order wasn’t meant for her.

Only when the door shut behind the last person did I move to the side of the operating table and look down at their blank faces. A tremor crept up my body and my shoulders slumped, tears burning in my eyes. For them. For my daughter who was in the crosshairs of this cruel world.

The heartbreak slammed so fucking hard into me my knees threatened to give.

“ No .”

I took their little hands in mine, feeling how cold they were, and a broken cry was ripped from my soul and escaped my lips.

“This is my fault,” I whispered, my heart clenching in my chest. “I might as well have been the one to kill them.”

Ines’s arms came around me. “That’s not true. Don’t even fucking think about putting this on yourself.”

Except, it was on me.

I went searching for the one person I wasn’t supposed to. After my brother ended our father, I thought it was safe to go searching for answers. For her. Yet, it seemed no matter how careful and conniving I was, it wasn’t enough.

My father’s threats screamed in my head, warning me if I ever dared to go after my daughter, I’d be the one to drive her to her early grave—just like I had my own mother—because in his book, I was to blame for that too.

Staring at the small hands in my palms, I wondered if I was ever innocent. I didn’t think so. My birth was marked in blood, and every day since, the stain of my mother’s death followed me around.

Pressing my forehead to the little hands, I uttered wordless apologies while heart-wrenching pain consumed my soul.

“Breathe, Emory.” Ines’s voice broke through the fog of pain, her fingernails digging into my shoulders. “Focus on me. Focus on my voice. Focus on my fucking grip.”

I tried so hard, my lungs squeezing as if refusing to let me live. Maybe it was my punishment for being a coward all those years ago and not fighting my father. Like my mother had. Like my brother had.

I had no idea how much time passed before I came to my senses.

“I’m fine,” I rasped, my gaze locked on the young girls.

She nodded. “They left something behind.”

My eyes snapped to my friend. “What’s that?”

“An address in New York.” She inhaled a deep breath, then slowly released it. “I don’t think that’s where your daughter is, but it’s something. It could be everything.”

My sorrow loosened its grip around my chest and a murderous rage closed in. I’d torture every single person in New York until I got answers.

Until I found my daughter.