Chapter 6 - THE HARBOR'S SECRET
The spotlight beat down on them, harsh and unforgiving.
Sienna groaned, swaying slightly on the heavy iron chain. Her expensive silk dress was torn, her blonde hair matted with blood and rain.
"He double-crossed me, Cian," Sienna choked out, tears mixing with the blood on her face. "He promised me safety. He promised he’d let me go!"
"Shut up, you stupid girl," Declan barked. He looked down at Cian from the catwalk, his face twisted in a smug grin. "She really thought I was going to hand her the empire just because she poured some poison. She’s just a pawn, Cian. Just like you."
"Where is my nephew, Declan?" Cian asked. His voice wasn't a yell. It was dangerously low, slicing through the damp warehouse air like a razor.
Declan’s smile faded slightly at the word nephew. "So, the waitress finally told you. Good. Saves me the dramatic reveal."
Declan tapped the detonator in his hand. "The boy is perfectly safe. He’s locked in a shipping container on the loading dock. But there are about five hundred containers out there, Cian. And this little button? It’s wired to four pounds of C4 strapped to the doors of his."
Maeve let out a ragged breath. She gripped her mother-in-law’s rosary so hard the silver wire cut into her palm. "Please," she begged, her voice cracking. "He’s six years old. He has nothing to do with this."
"He is a Callaway," Declan spat. "As long as he draws breath, there is a legitimate heir. Your father made me a promise twenty years ago, Cian! He promised the business to me. But then he got sentimental. He couldn't pull the trigger on his own flesh and blood."
Declan walked slowly down the metal stairs, keeping the detonator raised.
"I killed Tommy," Declan confessed, his voice echoing in the vast space. "I watched his car roll into the river. I thought the bloodline was broken. But then I found out about the waitress. I’ve been watching you, Maeve. Waiting for the right time to wipe the slate clean."
Cian kept his gun leveled at Declan’s chest. "You press that button, and I put a bullet through your heart."
"If I die, my thumb slips. The button releases. Boom," Declan mocked.
He reached the warehouse floor. "Here’s the deal, Cian. Sign over the port authority rights to me. Right now. You do that, and I give you the container number. You take the waitress and the bastard child, and you leave Boston forever."
Declan pulled a folded document and a gold pen from his jacket. He tossed them onto a wooden crate between them.
Cian looked at Maeve. Her face was pale, but she nodded. Do it. Save Leo.
Cian slowly holstered his weapon. He walked over to the crate. He picked up the gold pen. He leaned over the document.
"Smart boy," Declan sneered.
Sienna, still hanging from the chains, suddenly opened her eyes wide. "Cian, behind you!"
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From the shadows behind the crates stepped Chef Delphine. She wasn't holding a frying pan. She was holding a sawed-off shotgun, aimed directly at Maeve’s back.
"Nobody is leaving Boston," Delphine said, cocking the shotgun. "I’ve waited ten years to see the Callaways burn."
