"WHAT ELSE!" I was tempted to kill him right there.

Stepping right in his face, making sure he saw me clearly, I asked simply, "Do you know who I am?"

"I know she is the governor, but-"

"I didn't ask if you knew who my wife was. I asked if you knew who I am. Me, Liam Alec Callahan."

He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again, saying nothing at all.

"I can be your savior, I can cloak you in gold, or I can be your worst nightmare. I can destroy your life, your career, everything can come crashing down around you. Chicago will become a place worse than hell because I get whatever I want when I want it. Those who get in my way never get back up after I knock them down. Nothing and no one is out of reach for me. So doctor, when I ask you what else, speak, and when you speak, don't waste my time preaching ethics and morality to me...I have and want none."

"AB negative, a healthy woman in her late twenties or early thirties, preferably brain dead. Those are the best conditions for her to not reject the heart," he said quickly and softly under his breath.

Backing away from him, I shot a look to Mina who was already dialing.

"After the surgery...will she be all right? I thought heart transplant recipients barely live twenty years after a new heart?" Did a countdown of our lives just start?

"No," he said, thankfully. "Heart transplants have come a long way in the last decade. She can live well into her nineties. We will give her everything she needs to make sure she doesn't reject the heart, but we need one that meets the standards."

"Take me to my wife."

"This way," he muttered, leading me away from the OR doors.

I was torn between needing to see her and being terrified of what I might see. With each step I took, my heart pounded loudly and painfully against my ribcage until he finally opened the door. It took all of my strength not to keel over there.

"Get out," I murmured so softly I wasn't sure they heard me, nor did I care. The nurse adjusting her IV dropped it and backed away as I came forward. "Mel?"

It couldn't be her.

The pale, sickly woman with tubes down her throat and wires sticking out from everywhere...it couldn't be my Mel.

"What did they do to you?" My hand shook as I brushed her hair from the side of her face. "Wife..."

It hurt. Breathing hurt, and soon I wasn't standing anymore. My legs went out from under me and I held on to her as I wept. I cried as if someone had killed her, as if my world was on fire...because I just needed that moment. Like all moments, it came and went, as did my tears. Taking a deep breath, I got back on my feet, dragged the chair over to her bedside, and sat down.

"This will be the last time you go to the hospital, Mel." I squeezed her hand. "You can't keep putting me through this shit."

DECLAN.

3:37 PM.

It seemed simple-find a healthy female with the blood type AB negative between the ages of twenty-six and thirty-five-until you realized this was Chicago and the term 'healthy' could only be applied loosely. Within the first five minutes I was able to find three people, the first a chain smoker, the second already in the hospital going through labor which made her impossible to get at the moment, and the third-well, she was ironically our own customer.

"This one is another bust. Any luck, Mina?" I said, staring at the woman below me, who was half-awake and had a needle sticking out of her left arm.

"I showed the list to the doctor."

"You did what?"

"It doesn't matter, Liam put the fear of God into him. He doesn't believe any of these women will do-"

"Have you ever thought he is lying?" I snapped the apartment doors shut behind me as I exited the building, which smelled like piss and weed. "Just keep feeding me names, and keep by the computer; the program I set up should keep producing names that fit the criteria."

I didn't wait for her to reply before hanging up. My Aston Martin was surrounded by wannabe gangsters and children alike. As I stepped out into the wind, I hoped the air would smell better, but it only smelled worse. I hated Southbend.

"Move," I said to them, and one by one their heads turned back to me.

"This yours?"

Dumbass question from dumbass people. Ignoring them, I walked around them toward the driver's seat when some grabbed my arm.

"Hey!"

I stared at his old leather jacket before looking up at his grimy, scarred face. His front tooth was missing, and his hair was overgrown and messy; he was most likely still a teenager, not even an adult.

"We talkin to-"

My fist collided with his nose so quickly his head bucked back and his body fell to the ground. They stood there stunned before some of them pulled out knives and all pulled up their fists.

"I'm in a bad mood and short on time; you really want to fuck with me today?" I questioned.

Their answer was to charge at me and my reply was my gun. It would always be a fucking gun. Without mercy, I managed to fire three times before the rest abandoned their "friends," running for their lives.

The boy stared at the bullet hole in his stomach, falling back, almost on my car, but missing by an inch and landing to the right. Thank fucking Christ.

"Gun beats knife. If you live you never forget, if you don't, you don't." I got into the car, closed the door, reversed away from their bodies, and then drove around them.

I got about five blocks before I realized I was being tailed. It wasn't the police, and it wasn't any of our people; the windows were tinted, and by my best guess, bulletproof. Turning onto the highway, they came in close behind me.

Who the fuck? Hitting the Bluetooth, I waited for the signal beep before speaking. "I'm coming down the Forty-Seven with two tails."

"We clearing the way, sir?" he questioned.

"No." I glanced into the rearview mirror. "If they wanted to attack they would have already."

"Spikes then?"

"I'll be passing through in two."

Pulling off the highway and down toward Forty-Seventh Avenue, aka Little Italy, I sped up, pushing well past 100, knowing full well they would as well.

Three.

Two.

One.

Slamming on the brakes and turning the wheel to the right, I spun the car around, the tires screeching and smoke coming up as I faced the two black Lincoln town cars, the tires of which were now blown out thanks to the spike track they'd just crossed over.

"You have two choices!" I called out, gun in hand when I got out of my car. The door was the only thing shielding me from them, that and, of course, the people I had waiting as back up. "Choice one: get out of the car and beg. Choice two: stay in the car and die."

One by one little red dots appeared all over each of the cars. No car or glass was one hundred percent bulletproof and I'd be happy to prove it to them.

Instead, the back door of the second town car opened. All I saw were a pair of black snake leather shoes and brown cane as he got out. "You Callahan's sure know how to welcome a man."

"Ju-long of the Tiyng," I whispered, gripping on tighter to the gun in my hand. His hair was slicked back and he wore an eye patch covering his blind eye. The scar running from the tip of his hairline to his cheekbone looked worse in person. "You are a long, long way from home old man."

"The current events of this city made it impossible to stay away."

Closing my door, I walked forward. His one good eye dropped to the gun in my hand, his bodyguards each holding their weapons up to me. He lifted his gloved hand and they dropped their weapons.

"Are you not going to tell your men to back down as well?"

"I see no reason why I should do so. After all, our families aren't on the best of terms at the moment."

He nodded, gripping his cane. "Exactly why I have tried to get in contact with you, but it seems my calls go unanswered."

"Your letter was delivered loud and clear, though."

"What letter?"

Son of a bitch. "The letter delivered mere seconds after you took a shot at a local school my child, along with my nieces and nephews, attend. That letter."

He frowned, leaning in closer to me. "Obviously, there is some sort of misunderstanding at play here."

"There is no such thing as a misunderstood bullet, Ju-long."

The wind howled, blowing over us with such a force that it felt like knives were slicing across my face, and yet neither of us moved, neither of us looked away.

"I recognize that you and your family are in quite the dilemma. However, I hoped it would not cloud your judgment to such a degree." He reached into his jacket pocket and I lifted the gun to his head. He lazily stared at it before pulling out the cigar and placing it to his lips. One of his men came around with a light, burning the end of it before running back. He took a long drag of it and blew the smoke from his nose. "My family and our people have nothing to do with the current events of this city."

"So you're telling me you've been framed."

"Quite excellently, I might add." He inhaled the smoke, the end of the cigar glowing red and ash falling slightly with each drag. "As such, I personally came to this godforsaken city to speak with Liam, but like I said, my calls go unanswered."

"And you knew where I was, how?"

He snorted. "Let us not get hung up on the logistics."

"I'm the one brother who cares a lot about the logistics. How did you know where I was?"

His eyes narrowed and he paused, smoking, his grip on the cane so tight it looked uncomfortable. "Listen carefully to me, boy, I am not the same as the vermin who crawl on their backs for you people. Whoever is after the lot of you has no nothing to do with my family, and as such, you should be thankful that I have cleared the air, or else your family would chase its own tail right into a trap."

"Excuse me if I don't believe you-"

"Whether you do or not is not up to you. It is up to your boss. Or will you be making the executive decision by yourself? Maybe it is you who decided to betray your family and take over; seems far more plausible. If so, call me when you are through and we can make a new deal between us." He placed the cigar back into his mouth, turning from me and heading back. However, he didn't get into either of the two now useless cars. Instead, an Escalade pulled up right behind them and escorted him back.

I stood watching for a moment as the rest of his people poured gas all over the cars, then moved back to mine.

"Sir?" The Bluetooth connected.

"I want eyes on Ju-long at all times. However, no one, I mean no one, is to harm him until Liam gives the order. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Stepping on the pedal, I sped right past both cars as the flames engulfed them. None of this made sense...if it wasn't the Tiyng, then who?

I didn't even need to search for a station to hear news on Mel; everyone everywhere was talking about her.

"In a press conference, the surgeons at Merry West have confirmed that Governor Callahan is alive though her condition is critical. The chief of surgery does say however they remain hopeful..."

LIAM.

4:07 PM.

"Mel?" I whispered, staring down at her hands in mine. "She squeezed my hand."

I glanced over to Doctor Fortmen, who didn't even bother looking up from the chart. "It was most likely her reflexes. With the drugs she is currently on, there is no way she can wake up-"

No sooner had he said the words than all the machines around us erupted into various beeps.

"She's coding! I need a crash cart in here!" he yelled as one by one, an army of white coats and blue scrubs came running in, pushing me back as they huddled around her.

"Sir, you need-"

"Get off me!' I hollered, ripping my arm from her grasp. Not even God himself was getting me out of that room.

"Charging!"

Is this hell?

It had to be. Once again everything went silent, even though I was sure they were screaming. I could see them screaming, and yet the only thing I could hear was the sound of my own heart drumming in my ears.