Sadie's Game (Ashby Crime Family)

It sounded old school, even to my own ears, but it was how things were. I was a young kid with good breeding but no money or parents to go along with it, and Cillian Ashby was like the father I never had. He took me in, treated me like I was family. At the same time, I taught him everything he needed to know about mixing with legitimate businessmen and politicians, the who’s who of Nevada society.

In exchange for etiquette and fashion lessons, Cillian taught me how to fight. He taught me how to get on in the real world, not the rarefied world of expensive fundraisers, designer suits and private schools. He taught me what I needed to get by in the underworld without a lot of money or influence to back me up.

“A boy with manners like yours needs to know how to protect himself,” he said to me with a laugh.

From the age of fifteen, I spent my time at Cillian’s side. The world looked at me and saw his valet, and that’s exactly how Cillian wanted it. Years of training in boxing, martial arts, Greco-Roman wrestling and every other combat sport in existence had turned me into a lethal weapon, ready to be unleashed at Cillian’s word. I was that loyal to him.

And now to her.

Sadie.

Colm was jealous of my relationship with his father, even after Sadie came into the picture. It got worse once he had Sadie by his side as if he thought I stood a chance in hell of taking her from him. I didn’t. It didn’t take any real observational skills to see just how much she loved the drunken fool.

It was also equally clear to me that she didn’t know the real Colm Ashby. If she had, she would have burned pavement to get the hell away from him.

But she stayed and what started as a naïve crush grew as I watched her and watched over her. She was beautiful with thick blonde hair and big green eyes that were a mix of forest green and jade. She was as pale as an Irish rose with pink cheeks, flawless skin, and almond-shaped eyes that gave her a slightly exotic appearance. I watched her so closely over the years that I memorized every feature, every expression. I knew when Sadie was happy or sad, when she was afraid, worried or excited.

She was the first and the only woman I’d ever loved. That would never change, no matter how much she changed. When she first stepped into Ashby Manor, she was a shy little thing, scared of her own shadow and as fragile as a porcelain doll. Even though she didn’t know it at the time, Sadie was tough. It was a privilege to watch her discover her strength over the years, especially when Colm had done his damnedest to strip it from her.

Over time, she grew cold and hard, or more accurately to say life had made her cold and hard. I knew everything about her, Sadie Rose, and she barely knew I existed.

Typical of my life, but I didn’t mind. Being near her, being around her and watching the way she smiled and laughed with Cillian was enough. It was more than I thought I deserved, so I accepted it, took any crumb of acknowledgment from her and let it sustain me for days, for weeks.

For fucking decades.

Sadie wasn’t just the only woman I ever loved, she was the only reason Cillian and I had ever fought. The old man knew what was happening to her, the evidence of the beatings was impossible to hide completely, and she didn’t know enough about makeup to hide the bruises and black eyes effectively. The broken ribs and sprained wrists were harder to hide. Cillian knew that. He fucking knew, yet he didn’t do shit about them.

I hated him for that.

He knew every fucking thing from the beatings she took to the men she had to service when he refused to pay off Colm’s debts. He knew what was happening to his own grandsons, again because Colm couldn’t control his gambling. He knew it, and he did nothing, claiming that Sadie was where she needed to be.

Cillian laughed when I finally screwed up the courage to confront him.

“Fuck that,” he sneered, “I don’t believe it.”

He stuck his finger in my face and insisted, “I could call Sadie in here right now, give her the choice to leave with a ton of cash and her children, and she would stay. She would take the beatings and everything else.”

I shook my head in confusion. “Is her love for him truly that strong?”

“Not at all, probably hates his fucking guts at this point. But like you, Sadie Rose is a survivor, and she knows that this,” he motioned to his dark, smoky office, the same room that would, decades later, serve as Sadie’s parlor, is her son’s birthright. After everything she’s put up with, she wouldn’t dare leave and deprive them of this future.”