Page 105 of Chains of Recompense
Our car is waiting just down the block, my men falling into stride behind us as we make our way down the sidewalk.
Beside me, Aisling’s steps are calm and confident, her heels striking a beat that matches the rhythm of my heart.
I don’t know what I expected when I agreed to our arrangement, but her performance tonight went above and beyond.
She truly is the perfect Mafia bride, an asset any man would be fortunate to have on his arm, and I don’t doubt that her subtle way of pulling strings is going to get us a lot farther that I would have made it on my own.
My brothers and I are used to brute forcing it—and while I have a healthy respect for strategy and charm, Aisling takes it to a whole new level.
I’m starting to wonder, if I put her in charge, whether she might not find a way to get Tatsuo himself eating out of her palm.
But he’ll never be that fortunate. Not after what he and Kenji have done.
Still, I can’t help but smile as I glance down at Aisling from the corner of my eye.
I know it’s not a permanent arrangement, but I can’t help but recognize how lucky I am to have her as an ally.
And it doesn’t hurt that just looking at her is a gift on the daily.
I know the thought is wrong.
I shouldn’t be entertaining it, but watching her tonight—watching her so often in the time since our wedding day—I find it near impossiblenotto have those kinds of thoughts.
We’re almost to the car when it happens.
A prickle creeps along my spine, a wrongness I’ve learned to trust even when I don’t want to.
And instantly, my senses are on full alert.
That’s all the warning I get, though, before I catch movement to our left.
A man steps out of the shadows, dressed all in black, looking for the world like a phantom as he moves without a sound.
He’s fast—too fast for a regular civilian or homeless man.
His posture is wrong, his center of gravity low, coiled.
I see the blade a half-second before he raises it, glinting under the streetlight, and my heart stops as I realize he’s coming straight for Aisling.
“This,” he snarls, Japanese accent unmistakable, “is what happens when you sleep with the enemy.”
Aisling whirls, her blue eyes growing round as she spots the man coming for her mere seconds before he’s on top of her.
Time fractures.
My body moves before my mind catches up, instinct screaming louder than reason.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I drag Aisling back just as he lunges, the knife slashing through the space where her throat had been.
Genevieve flashes through my head—the blood, her wide, unseeing eyes.
Not again.
Firmly placing Aisling behind me, I shield her with my body as I catch the man’s arm. I can feel the strength there, the training as he twists, pivoting to break my hold.
He’s good—far better than the butcher—and he’s here to kill.
But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him touch my wife.
