The Devil I Don't Know (Brooklyn Kings, #1)

by L.K. Shaw

lead normal lives away from everything. Away from the violence. Away from being used as collateral.” I’ve had two days to come to terms with my situation. It isn’t my mother’s fault. It’s never been a secret that we’re part of the Irish mob. Until now, that fact has never touched me, though. “My life has been normal, Mother. I mean, as normal as someone from our kind of family could have. Don’t think I’m not grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given.” I wrap my arms around myself, but it doesn’t remove the chill coursing across my skin. “B...

all just popped. What did you expect was going to happen?” My mother’s hand is warm against my cheek as she stares at me earnestly. “I know you’re unhappy, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for my children.” I step away, and her hand drops to her side. “We should probably get going. You know how Caitlín is when she’s left to her own devices for too long.” A twinge of guilt hits me at the sadness that crosses my mother’s face. It’s not fair to punish her, but I...

on my game face and lead the way to the front door where my sister waits. Wedding dre...

I spend a restless night filled with visions of blood and the lingering scent of lilacs. I hear her voice, her laughter. The silken strands of her golden blonde hair glide through my fingers.

I wake covered in a sheen of sweat. Naked, I pad across the room and turn on the shower, knowing I’ll never be able to wash away the memories. Being back in this city does nothing but serve as a reminder of all I’ve lost. The cool water rains down over me. In a few short hours I’m meeting with the other families. Paulie mentioned it on the ride to my father’s house yesterday. I have been given one test of loyalty already. No doubt there will be many more to come. At some point before the wedding, I’ll also need to meet with our new ally, Donnelly. I step out of the shower, dry myself off, and dress in my tailored black suit with red pin-striped tie. As a kid, my father always told me that men who wear a perfectly fitted suit demonstrate power. He’s never worn anything else. I adopted his attire in my early twenties. Today, it is important that I show the others just how much power I have. I adjust my platinum-and-black cufflinks, tug my sleeves down, and take one last glance in the full-length mirror. It’s not for vanity’s sake, but rather a final look at the soon-to-be new ruler of an entire kingdom. The thing I’ve avoided for seven years. Pierce is waiting outside my room. “I spoke to Gregory Rossi last night. He texted me the listings for a couple places he thought you might be interested in. I set up an appointment to look at them this morning.”

Living in this house has never been an option for me. I can’t stay at Pierce’s place, though. Not with Francesca living there. But I certainly hadn’t planned on a real estate tour being one of the first things I did upon my return. “What time?” “In thirty minutes. I’ve already notified Giovanni. He’s outside with the town car.” “Let’s get this over with.” We head down the stairs to the first floor. T...

I nod at her before Pierce and I step outside and descend the front steps to reach the waiting car. Giovanni opens the back door. “Morning, Mr. Ricci. Mr. De Luca.” I nearly stumble at hearing my father’s—and now my—name. The driver sends me a look of uncertainty. “Sir, is everything okay?” I’d better get used to the formality. “It’s fine.” Pierce and I settle into the back of the town car. If it weren’t nine in the morning, I would pour myself a ...

He shakes his head. “She’s his assistant, to those outside. She fields any visitors or phone calls if your father’s too sick to see anyone. Makes his excuses. I believe she also plays the role of nurse. Sees that Sal is taking his medicine. That he’s eating healthy.” It’s hard to imagine the well-dressed woman who answered the door yesterday being a nursemaid. “And Franco?” “One of our soldiers. He’s also Marta’s son.” “My father trusts them with his secret?” I find that hard to believe. Having ...

father’s captains twenty-some years ago. He was killed by the Russians, but first they made him watch her being raped. Franco was hidden. After it was over, your father tracked down those responsible. He sent her a monthly stipend, paid for her son’s schooling, and has made sure she’s been taken care of since. While not impossible, I don’t believe she’d betray him.” That is one thing about the syndicate. We look after all the families. If our enemies manage to kill one of ours, we take retribution. Still, I plan on watching ...

Pierce and I step out in front of a six-story building on a corner lot. The dirt-brown brick fades into the background of the giant windows that stretch from every floor to ceiling, and reflect not only the surrounding buildings, but also the beams of sunlight shining onto them. I glance around and take in the neighborhood. Cars line up along the curb and run down the entire length of the street. A pile of black garbage bags litter the edge of the sidewalk near the drive leading under the building. A contemporary, black-glassed building sits across from where we s...

agent inside will talk up what a fantastic property it is and expound upon all the wonderful conveniences it has to offer. I pinch the bridge of my nose to try and alleviate the headache starting to develop. “Let’s take a look so we can be done with this. We have more important things to take care of today.” No doubt I should be taking more of an interest in where I live, but it only serves as a reminder of the reason why I’m purchasing a new home. And for whom. Pierce leads the way inside. The interior of the building smells lik...

The realtor greets us and introduces us to the security guard manning the desk. We’re shown all the property amenities first including the fully equipped gym, the children’s play area, and the rooftop pool with a view of the Williamsburg Bridge and the East River. I don’t care about any of those things, although maybe Brenna will. My brain hiccups over the name. Better get used to saying it, since she’ll be your wife soon. Finally, the realtor shows us the four-bedroom, three-bathroom townhome on the top two floors. It’s a corner unit, so the living room is two walls of windows. I barely listen as he drones on about the open floor plan, the state-of-the-art appliances, the twelve-foot ceilings, and hardwood flooring throughout. The second floor of the townhome is comprised of all four bedrooms. There are two closets—“His and hers,” he says, in the master bedroom—and the en-suite bathroom has a double vanity and rain shower. Pierce responds to questions about any interior design needs. I do have to admit it’s a nice place, and I’m sure I’ll be satisfied livin...

I stare out the window. The headache that started as a dull throb earlier has begun pounding like a drum, and the scenery goes out of focus as the memories come. It’s been hard not to compare this place with my old penthouse and see how different they are. Here, everything is blindingly bright, as opposed to the darker, muted tones I prefer. My penthouse had been designed for function as opposed to fashion. Soon, a new woman’s items will be scattered around. I won’t find ...

I shake off the thought and return to the present. So many things are changing quickly, and it’s a lot to adjust to. The two men approach, and I turn to face them. The realtor reaches a hand out. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Ricci. I’ll let the sellers know you’ve agreed to the full asking price, and that you’re interested in going forward with the sale. Since you’ll be paying cash, it won’t take me long to have all the paperwork ready for you—perhaps tomorrow. You should be able to move in quickly.” “Thank you.” We leave the r...

anymore; I need a drink. The pulsing behind my right eye has gotten worse. I pour myself a whisky from the dry bar. My mind has already moved to the meeting we’re on our way to next. The drive to the body shop is a quiet one. I mentally prepare myself to enter the back room full of the captains of the families. Giovanni pulls up to the garage and honks. Within a minute, the door raises and he pulls the town car into the darkened cavern. Once inside, the door lowers, enclosing us into the dim interior lit only by fluorescents that f...

on the ground in various stages of repair. Pierce and I exit the town car. A familiar face steps back from underneath the hood of a vehicle wiping his greasy hands on a towel. He smiles brightly upon seeing me. “Emilio, my friend, welcome home. It’s good to see you again.” “You as well, Roberto.” I shake his hand. Once upon a time, we’d gone to school together. His father is one of the syndicate’s soldiers. “They’re waiting for you inside.” I nod my thanks and stride across the cement, bypassing various puddles of oil and other liquids soaking into the floor. Pierce knocks and the lock is disengaged before the door opens to the inside. He enters first and steps off to the left, and I follow immediately behind him. I spot my father. He’s standing confidently behind the desk, his face paler than usual aside from the dark circles under his eyes. Otherwise he appears well. My eyes take in the rest of the room, and the door closes with a loud click behind me. “Emilio, welcome. You know near...

“As you know, Emilio will soon wed Colm Donnelly’s granddaughter. It’s an alliance between the Italians and the Irish that brings with it not only money, but also power.” My father pauses, his eyes moving around the room. “For too long, the Russians have been encroaching on our territory. They’ve raided our storage units and stolen guns. They’ve intercepted both drugs and money. By aligning ourselves with the Irish, we strengthen our numbers. We’ll show our enemies they cannot win.” “He’s been gone a long time. How do we know his interests are the same as ours?” I fix a stony glare on the man who asked the question. Although the question is posed to my father, I answer, which is no doubt what my father expects. He certainly won’t speak for me. It’s up to me to show these men that I am now the man they answer to. “Where were you, Angelo, when the Russians took Francesca? When they repeatedly raped an eighteen-year-old girl? Where were you when Pierce and I tracked them down and made them pay for what they’d done?” My eyes quickly shift to the ...

aren’t pointed at me, while I stare every single man down. My father takes a seat, not because I’m in control, but from fatigue. It’s on his face and in the way he sags in his chair. “Did any of you know that Marco here has been selling information to the Russians?” Mumbles of denial race through the room, and I turn to stare at the man held by Pierce. His eyes are narrowed in defiance. “I have video surveillance of him meeting with Mikhail Popov two days before the latest shipment of drugs was intercepted. Isn’t t...

his eyes watering. I spin around and face the room. “My interests are the same as this syndicate’s. My loyalty is to this syndicate. Just because I haven’t been in Brooklyn doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s been going on here. While you’ve been questioning my return, you’ve let a fucking rat get away with stealing from us.” I pound my fist on my chest. “A fucking rat who’s allowed our sworn brothers in bond to die. Don’t ever question where my loyalties lie again. Pierce, you and Paulie take Marco to the warehouse. Find out what else he’s been talking about.” The two ...

to know. “The time has come for Emilio to take my place as head of the Brooklyn syndicate. You will each pledge your loyalty to him as you’ve pledged your loyalty to me. Your word is your bond.” His voice is strong and confident. My eyes travel the room as all fourteen men holster their weapons and place their fists on their chest, directly over where we all have a crown tattooed. It’s the crest that belongs to the men who pledge their loyalty to the Brooklyn Kings. To dishonor...