Chapter 350: Pagan's Hell
*I don’t give a damn how it’s done. I just want it done. – Pagan*
Pagan was hammering out his frustration along with the hot metal on the anvil. It was the second day of the meeting with the family, and he was missing his wife.
He couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face when he thought of Shiloh as his wife.
When it was confirmed who her family was, he understood why she did not want anyone to know that they were married. Until everything was settled, it could put him and his girls in danger. He didn’t understand everything about her family, but he knew it worked like the Saints.
They had a family leader and CEO of the company. Shiloh was Nonno’s only living heir and should take his place. Be the next CEO. But it was not what she wanted.
She would do it out of duty and obligation. And Pagan was certain that she would be good at it.
Shiloh had a good mind for business and could lead the family and business with very little effort. But her heart was not in it. She wanted to embrace the darker fun side. She wanted to wear bats and skeletons and spiders year-round. And match them with her jewelry – both what people could see and what was just for him.
Her facial piercings had clear spacers in them, and makeup covered them. Her nipples and belly button had bare basic slave rings. Her hair was boring and business like. Her clothes were name brand and boring. She had sent him a picture and he could see her emotions clearly.
She was miserable.
Not only could he see it in the picture, he could hear it in her voice when they talked over the phone last night and again this morning. She had stayed at Nonno’s house, having dinner with some of the family. Although she had called it a family dinner, he knew it would be all business.
the first day of the meeting had not gone the way that they had hoped.
She presented Nico as her replacement and about half the board accepted it. The other half refused. A good mix of the two suggested that she should marry Nico as a compromise. They were second or third cousins and technically, legally, it could be done.
But neither saw the other in that way. Shiloh had laughed when she told Pagan how Nico had shut it down quick.
“We’re Italians. We’re not royal English or backwoods hillbillies who both marry their cousins.”
Pagan chuckled as he reheated the metal and started on the new angle.
The music in his ear paused as he received a message. As was usual, he continued to work even as the messages continued to come in. A few of the brothers called and he ignored them. it was not until he was tapped on the shoulder that he stopped his hammering.
Turning, he saw Dom standing there. Tapping the ear pod, he stopped the music and removed one.
“What’s up?”
“You need to shut down.” Dom said and he realized that his employees were already in the process of shutting down the machines.
“What the fuck?”
“Patches and prospects are going to the Shack, women and kids to Pops.”
“Why?” he pressed.
“I can’t say. But you need to go and check in with Toad.”
“I’m going to go get my girls.”
“Pagan, do *not* question this.” She warned. “I was ordered to bring you to the Shack with no stops in between. Don’t ask me any questions, I can’t answer them.”
“Fine. But after I check in with Toad, I’m going to go see my girls.”
Dom nodded and watched as the rest of the shop was shut down. Carrianne was sent to Pops along with the teen apprentice from the community college. As Pagan followed the motorcycles over to the Shack, he tried to remember the last time a lockdown was called. Other than when Nessie was taken last year, he couldn’t think of the time before.
They rolled through the gates and the prospects at the gate marked them off on the list. Pagan parked over in his regular spot and headed into the building.
“But I’m a prospect!” Priscilla was complaining to her dad, Molly.
“I don’t care. You’re going to Pops.” Molly replied calmly.
“Why?” she demanded.
“Priscilla,” Dom bellowed, “get your ass over to Pops.”
“But…” the teen sighed as Dom walked over to her.
Grabbing the girl’s chin, Dom made her look up. “It’s for your safety. And your dad’s safety. If things go sideways, he’s going to be worried about you, and not taking care of himself. You get me?”
Nodding, Priscilla looked down, trying to hide the tears in her eyes.
“Girl, you better get your ass over there before I forget that you’re still underage and don’t like a flog to your back.” Dom growled as she let go of the teen’s chin.
“Where’s Toad?” Pagan demanded and Dom motioned for him to follow her to the office.
The hallway to the president’s office had never felt this damn long. Pagan wanted to check in and then go check on his girls. He didn’t know why they were being split up like this, and he did not like it. As they neared the office, he could hear Toad and Werewolf arguing.
“Not until we know more.” Werewolf said.
“How much more do we need to know?” Toad demanded. “We need to know where the hell they are!”
“Enough.” Dom said as they entered the office. She pointed at a chair for Pagan and then closed the office door.
“I’m here.” Pagan said as he stood in front of the desk. “I want to go see my girls.”
“Sit.” The other three commanded.
Feeling outnumbered, he sat in the chair. Toad looked over at Werewolf who sighed.
“Your sister was taken from her store.” The president turned back to Pagan and said without preamble.
“By who?” Pagan demanded.
“Aranya.” Dom said as she got herself a soda from Toad’s small refrigerator.
Pagan bolted to his feet and the other two men ordered him to sit back down as Dom took a drink and then propped against the wall, grinning at Werewolf.
“I think we should remodel the bar.”
“What the fuck?” Pagan demanded. “My sister is missing, and you think we need to remodel the bar?”
“You don’t think that she knew?” Werewolf asked.
“She suspected they would do something.” Dom said with a shake of her head. “Not this. *Never* this.”
“So you think it’s connected to the vote?” Werewolf asked, accepting the half empty drink that she held out.
“I do. And if it’s who we think…” She gave him a knowing smirk.
“Fuck.” Werewolf muttered before he took a drink. “Have some prospects clear the bar.”
“Why am I going to have the cleared out?” Toad demanded as the office door opened.
“Because you’ll want to keep the bloodshed contained.” The Mick said as he entered the room. “I don’t know her in her new life, but as the next head of the Giovani family, Sophia is not someone I want mad at me. My boys are at your disposal.”
Michael O’Flaherty, the leader of the Irish mafia and simply known as The Mick, was a man in his fifties with graying red hair and bright blue eyes. Laugh lines and crows’ feet graced his face that did not have his usual easy smile.
The president and The Mick looked at each other. Toad was used to being in jeans and a casual shirt. The same outfit looked odd on the other man. It just didn’t seem right to see him in a T-shirt for the New England Patriots.
“Who the hell is Sophia?” Toad asked, angry that he felt like he was missing out on a lot of information on the conversation in his office.
“You know her as Shiloh.” Pagan said.
“Halloween?” Toad asked and the other three Saints nodded. “Well fuck me.”
“She doesn’t know Ciara very well.” Pagan said. He was trying to understand how his sister could be used as leverage to get the vote that would release Shiloh from her position and responsibilities.
The room was silent for a moment and then Toad let out a deep breath.
“We think they took Ciara, because she could check the girls out of school.” He said quietly.
“They took my girls?” Pagan asked angrily.
