Destroy Me - Ella Sheridan Page 0,78
They’d only ever met at social functions before Ferrina Sr.’s trial, and even back then, the man had worn arrogance and condescension like a cloak. Fionn had always thought that was why he disliked both Ferrinas so much, the attitude, but now he knew they’d just been evil bastards.
If there was one thing he was good at, it was eradicating evil bastards.
“Fionn McCullough. As I live and breathe.”
Not for long. “Santo.”
The man grimaced, his dark mustache twisting into something threatening. “You always were too familiar with your betters.”
Fionn allowed a chuckle to escape, though he knew the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that supposed to be you?” He moved down the path a few steps. “Let’s just remember which one of us needs money and which one has it.”
“Not for long,” Ferrina snarled, echoing Fionn’s thought of a moment ago. “Not if you want that pretty mam of yours all in one piece.”
We’ll see, asshole. Fionn shrugged, a gesture he knew would infuriate his opponent even more.
“Let’s see it, McCullough.”
“That might be difficult,” Fionn said. The grin that flickered over his lips this time was genuine.
“And why is that?”
“Because most of the gold is about two miles that way”—he pointed back over his shoulder toward the rear of the house—“and it will take some serious doing to haul it out.”
Ferrina’s hand went to the small of his back, no doubt where his weapon waited. “You are wasting my time. How do I even know you have the money here?”
“I didn’t have the money put here, Santo.” The twist he put on the name made it sound like an insult. “My father did, in gold bricks, before your father killed him. But I do have proof that it’s here, in the pack I’m carrying.” He slid one strap from his shoulder.
Ferrina pulled his gun then, bringing it up to point at Fionn. “Show me!”
“Fionn,” Deacon said in his ear. “Nice and slow.”
Exactly what he’d intended. Fionn let the bag settle slowly on the ground at his feet, then reached to unzip it. The tension in the air rose exponentially when he reached between the gaping flaps, but he didn’t stop, just kept up his steady movements until he pulled his hand clear of the top of the bag, heavy gold bar gripped in his fist. Several of the men cursed.
“Nice, yeah?” Fionn watched Ferrina’s greedy gaze fasten on the gold. “Easy to melt down, easy to change into cash. Hard to trace. Now who was the smartest man in our fathers’ partnership?”
A slow red flush rose along Ferrina’s neck, up his face. Fionn enjoyed the sight, but not as much as he was enjoying what he could hear—the faint rumbling of vehicles coming down the drive.
“See, I normally wouldn’t be hesitatin’ to hand over just about anything to protect my mam,” he continued. “The problem isn’t giving you the money; it’s what you want to use it for.” He nodded toward the now-visible caravan coming onto the estate. “A wee birdie told me you were looking to finance an expansion. Know how the European mafia likes to deal with incursions into their territory?”
Ferrina’s eyes were widening, realization dawning in his eyes as he looked behind him. His men, scattered around the drive, began converging toward the house.
Rage rose in Ferrina—Fionn could see it, feel it. Feed it.
“Those cars? Those are Andre Sonaro’s men. I think you’ve heard of him? Head of the Grasseri Syndicate. One of the largest mafia organizations on the Continent. How do you think he feels about your plans?”
“You didn’t,” Ferrina snarled toward him just as the line of vehicles screeched to a halt behind the Irish Cartel.
“Of course I did, but hey, I’m a man of my word. You came for gold”—he hefted the bar in his right hand, his left reaching back to grasp his gun—“so here. Catch.”
Human instinct is a powerful thing. No matter how slow our brain, if an object is coming toward us, we will try to catch it. We might not succeed, but we will try.
Ferrina tried. Fionn put a bullet through his brain before the man’s hands could close around the gold he so desperately desired.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Everything’s fine, Mam,” Fionn said into the phone, his voice holding the tiniest bit of exasperation. Women got emotional when something like this was over; Lyse knew because she’d been fighting tears for the past hour. “I’ll get back with ya as soon as Mack touches base, but everything is fine, all right?”
Deacon was