Chapter 5 - THE DEAD MAN’S WATCH
Maeve scrambled to her feet, wiping the tears from her face, leaving streaks of mascara and rain. She stared at the silver watch in Cian’s palm.
"Your father has been dead for five years," Maeve said, her voice shaking.
"He is," Cian replied, turning the heavy silver watch over. The initials A.C.—Arthur Callaway—were engraved on the back. "He was wearing this when he had his heart attack. The only person who had access to his personal effects before the funeral... was Declan."
The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. Julian Russo wasn't the mastermind. Declan was. Declan hadn't just betrayed Cian tonight; he had been pulling the strings for years.
"Declan ran Tommy off the road seven years ago," Cian said, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "Tommy wanted out. Declan knew my father would never allow it, so he handled it himself. And tonight, he was going to kill me and take the entire syndicate."
"He has my boy," Maeve whispered, a terrifying calm washing over her. The panic was gone, replaced by a mother’s lethal determination. "I don't care about your family’s politics, Cian. I don't care about the waterfront. I want my son."
"And you will get him," Cian said, his gray eyes locking onto hers. "Tommy was blood. Leo is blood. Nobody touches my family and lives."
The babysitter, whom Cian had untied, sniffled loudly from the corner. "The... the man in the suit," she stammered. "When he took Leo, he made a phone call. I heard him say they were taking the cargo to the Pier 9 warehouse."
Cian’s jaw set. Pier 9. The old Callaway shipping depot.
They left the apartment and rushed back to the stolen sedan. The rain was coming down in sheets now, washing the grit off the Boston streets.
As Cian sped toward the harbor, Maeve reached into her apron again. She pulled out a small, tarnished silver rosary. The beads were worn smooth from years of prayer.
Cian glanced at it. "Where did you get that?"
"Tommy gave it to me," Maeve said softly. "He said it belonged to his mother. He told me it was the only thing in your family that wasn't stained with blood."
Cian swallowed hard. His mother’s rosary. He hadn't seen it since he was ten years old. "He really loved you, Maeve."
"I loved him," she said, clutching the beads. "And I have protected his secret for seven years. I worked double shifts. I scrubbed floors. I stayed invisible." She looked out the window at the dark harbor approaching. "I’m done being invisible."
Cian killed the headlights as they approached Pier 9. The massive corrugated metal warehouse loomed in the fog, surrounded by rusted shipping containers. Two black SUVs were parked out front.
"Stay behind me," Cian whispered, drawing his weapon as they stepped out into the freezing rain.
They crept toward the side entrance. The heavy metal door was slightly ajar.
Cian pushed it open, his gun raised. The warehouse was cavernous, smelling of motor oil and sea salt.
Suddenly, a voice echoed from the catwalk above.
"I knew you’d figure it out, Cian."
A spotlight snapped on, blinding them.
When their eyes adjusted, Maeve screamed.
Hanging by her wrists from a heavy loading chain, bruised and bloody, was Sienna. And standing next to the winch controls, holding a detonator, was Declan.
But Leo was nowhere to be seen.
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"Where is my son?!" Maeve screamed, lunging forward.
Declan smiled. "Answer one question first, Cian. Did you really think you were the only one keeping secrets?"
