King of the Cage: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Devil’s Own)
King of the Cage: Chapter 25

I took Giada’s hand as we walked into a room in The Tartarus hotel and were met with the same tableau from the other night. Black-cloaked freaks wearing masks.

She jerked, surprised by the sudden contact. She was a solitary creature, skittish about physical affection. So painfully unused to it. I pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Here we fucking go,” I murmured to my wife and summoned a grin for her.

She was nervous; I could feel it in the way her pulse thudded hard, and her hand was clammy.

“Brandon O’Connor, you have chosen to endure the second test,” The Sentinel intoned.

He stood before a small table, that damn plague doctor mask staring right into my soul.

“Do you consent to whatever The Enclave prepares for your test?”

I nodded. “Go nuts. I’m ready.”

Giada squeezed my hand and moved to the side. Security escorted me to a table set up in the front. The crowd of Enclave members turned and followed me with their heads as I strode through them. A quick glance reassured me that Giada was sitting at the edge of the festivities, her gaze fixed on me.

I stopped in front of the table and took in the setup.

A lie detector. How original.

I sat and let them strap me up.

“Is your name Brandon O’Connor?”

“Last time I checked,” I drawled. I set my feet firmly on the floor and steadied myself.

“Answer yes or no,” The Sentinel instructed me.

“Yes.”

“Your father’s name is Colm, your brother is Killian, stepbrother Ronan, and sister Quinn, is that correct?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Have you ever lied to get out of trouble?”

“Yes,” I answered evenly and let my breath shorten, giving me a slight physical response. The point of this tactic was that most people would feel some physical effect when being asked about their wrongdoings. The guy conducting the polygraph made notes, like I wanted him to. I needed his baseline to be wrong.

“Have you ever taken something that didn’t belong to you?”

“Yes,” I said and cut my eyes to Giada. My heart rate spiked a little.

She watched me steadily, without any kind of judgment, only concern.

“Have you ever broken a rule and not been caught?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Have you ever made a promise you didn’t keep?”

“No,” I answered confidently. My heart rate remained steady.

The polygrapher nodded to The Sentinel. He was ready.

“Do you want to become a brother of The Enclave?” The Sentinel asked.

“Yes,” I answered easily. It wasn’t even a lie. I needed to continue down this convoluted membership road to replace out their inner workings and know exactly who I needed to kill.

“Why do you want to join The Enclave?”

“To make my father proud,” I answered.

“Is that a lie?”

“No.” My pulse remained steady.

“Are you sitting in a chair?” The random control question came out of nowhere.

“Yes.”

“Are you married?”

“Yes,” I answered and glanced at Giada.

“Is your wife in this room?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love her?”

My heart jumped a beat, I couldn’t fucking stop it. I couldn’t lie. It would fuck everything up.

“Yes,” I ground out, keeping my eyes from Giada.

The polygrapher nodded. Holy shit. This was getting a bit too real.

“Does she love you?” the polygrapher asked emotionlessly.

“No.”

“You would like to see The Enclave exposed, true or false?”

I pushed my heels subtly into the floor to keep my heart rate steady.

“False.”

“You have taken a human life before?”

“Yes.”

“Do you regret hurting a person?”

“No.”

The Sentinel nodded to the polygrapher. Was this nearly fucking over?

The polygrapher turned the paper in front of him revealing another whole long list of questions.

Motherfucker.

It felt like hours later when The Sentinel tapped the polygrapher on the shoulder and nodded.

“Brandon O’Connor, you have passed the second test.”

A light smattering of applause went around the room.

They unstrapped my arm, while I rotated my shoulders and tried to work the tension out of them. I caught Giada’s intense dark gaze for a split second, and my heart rate spike hard. She’d heard fucking everything. Thank God I wasn’t still hooked up; I would have exploded the machine.

“This test was the last psychological test. After this, if you survive the final, physical test, you will become a brother of The Enclave. Until then…” The Sentinel surprised me by pushing up his mask. He crossed over to me and held out his hand. “An unofficial welcome to the society, Brandon.”

I stared at the man who had been the ringleader of all the shit that had happened. He was so terrifyingly ordinary. Was the ringleader of The Enclave some nobody? He looked like every other banker wanker you might see walking around the financial district. Unremarkable, unoffensive, and utterly forgettable.

I shook his hand, gripping it tightly.

“My name is Archibald Calloway. This is my wife, Regina,” he said, peering over my shoulder.

The rest of the members in attendance had shed their masks, too. Giada stared around in shock, with an expression that made it seem like she was trying to memorize everyone’s face so she could put a hit out on them. I took her hand and tugged her to me.

I turned to meet Archibald’s wife. She hovered at my side, a nervous smile on her lips.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she enthused and shook my hand, turning to Giada. “And I’m so excited to meet you, Giada.”

“Likewise,” Giada said coolly, shaking the offered hand.

“That was quite the thrilling polygraph, wasn’t it?” Regina enthused.

Giada’s eyes hit mine, and I couldn’t turn away.

After a moment, Giada nodded. “Yeah, it was illuminating, to say the least.”

I chuckled, trying to ease my discomfort. “It’s not really my first choice for an evening’s entertainment, but whatever floats your boat.”

Archibald cut in. “Brandon’s right. It’s time to have a drink and celebrate. Let me introduce you to your soon-to-be brothers.”

The introductions went on for what felt like forever. I stopped trying to keep anyone’s name straight and settled for shaking hands and watching Giada out of the corner of my eye. The rest of the women looked they’d been washed in sloppy old dishwater and wrung out, next to the vivid colors of my wife. It didn’t escape my notice that her glowing tanned skin was the most diverse shade in the room.

The Enclave, where generational wealth, racism, and insanity came together.

I escaped the endless round of introductions as quickly as I could and grabbed a neat scotch from the kid behind the bar. I sipped and observed the crowd. Did these investment bankers and board chairs know that their organization was drugging women and taking away their free will? Had they done it themselves? What darkness lay under their polished manners and small talk? Archibald was a strange man. There was something off with him. He wasn’t what I expected as head of The Enclave, that was for sure. He seemed like his brain was on another planet most of the time, and without the mask on, it was really fucking noticeable. Which begged the question… who did Archie get his orders from?

“So, I see you made it through the trial? I suppose brute force is your forte, after all, or so I’ve heard. Lost Boy of Hell’s Kitchen. It’s a hell of a nickname.”

I turned to see who’d decided to come and pick a fight.

Aldo Sepriano stood beside me, staring at a huge, depressingly dark oil painting hung on the wall. Ah, yes, the man whose brother I’d ordered to dismember himself. The one who hadn’t even reported Enrico’s disappearance to the cops, in case it damaged his own political career. I knew him by sight, but this was our first interaction.

“You’re Aldo, right?”

He nodded. “And you are Brandon O’Connor, soon to be the newest member of The Enclave. I suppose we have more in common than we think.”

I chuckled. “I doubt that.”

“I heard congratulations are in order,” Aldo continued. “You realize that Elio Santori will kill you for marrying his sister, right?”

I shrugged. “The heart wants what it wants.”

Aldo turned to face me. “Why are you here? What do you want with The Enclave, and don’t give me bullshit about money. I know you don’t care about it.”

I turned a steady gaze on him. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of mine, Aldo. I’m flattered.”

“You — my brother —” he cut himself off with a curse.

Maybe he did care about his brother, after all. Interesting.

“Is on a leave of absence from office, right? I heard that he had a family emergency,” I drawled.

Aldo was silent. The fury came off him in waves, and I enjoyed every second. Aldo was a member of The Enclave, and therefore, a reprehensible piece of shit. This scumbag had also hit Giada the night of the Hunt; I couldn’t wait to fucking kill him.

“Why are you here, O’Connor?”

“You’ll see, in good time.” I looked around for Giada, registering that she’d disappeared in the time Aldo had been talking to me. Had he been distracting me on purpose?

“Why do you care? Why bother with any of this? You’re hardly a good person,” Aldo spit out.

“Oh, Aldo, a man’s life should mean something, didn’t you hear? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to replace my wife.”