Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
I stop when I realize I’ve raised my voice.
“Sorry,” I state. “I didn’t mean to shout.”
“It’s okay, Killian.” Mom touches my hand. “You care about her.”
“I don’t know her.”
“I’ve waited a long time for you to find somebody, to find happiness. You can’t expect me to agree with your stance on this.”
“My stance?”
“You claim you can’t date a woman unconnected to our world. But I’ve never seen you so interested in anyone like you are with Lucy. I think you need to think about your own happiness.”
“I love you, Mom, but you’re wrong. I need to think about her safety.”
Later, we’re riding in the limo toward the party. Uncle Frank sits opposite me, his arm around a twenty-something with a glazed look in her eyes. Frank has the same look, and I know they’ve been hitting more than whiskey. He necks neat whiskeys, three in a row, then slaps his hand on his knee. “Won’t you join me, nephew?”
“I might have a drink at the party,” I say.
Frank laughs, squeezing his date to him. “And you haven’t even brought a woman!”
Owen, sitting beside him, couldn’t be more different. Frank is red-faced and large. Owen is an old, slight man who appears more like a doting grandfather than the consigliere of a crime Family. It’s an open secret that, while Frank is Don because he has the Callahan name, Owen Doyle is the man who really runs the Family.
Thankfully, we soon arrive at the party. Mom and Ellie mingle with their society ladies, and I find a corner to hide in with Ronan and Colm. Both men are technically in the Family, we’ve known each other since we were kids, and I’d never question their loyalty. Ronan is thin, with sharp cheekbones and calculating dark brown eyes. Colm is wide-shouldered and has tattoos all over his hands. Something that adds to our closeness is that we all speak Gaelic.
“Your date seems happy,” I comment.
Ronan smiles over at his girlfriend, standing in a circle that includes several society women. “I’m going to ask her to marry me soon.”
“Congratulations.”
“Save that until she says yes.”
“Marriage is a blessing,” Colm says. “Some men expect me to say different after so many years, but I can’t.”
“I suppose you’re going to tell me to hurry and find somebody,” I mutter.
“No, Killian, because we know you already have found somebody,” Ronan says, looking at me calculatingly.
“Leave that alone,” I tell him. “I’ve had enough of that from my mother this morning. I don’t need it from you too.”
He shrugs. “Understood.”
Colm moves closer, lowering his voice. “Killian, there’s something you should know. It might be nothing. There’s no evidence… at least, none I’ve been able to find. But men loyal to Owen have been whispering about it, which makes me believe there might be some truth to the matter.”
“What are we discussing, exactly?”
“Your father’s death.”
My blood turns cold. “The car crash? The cops ruled it an accident. Icy roads. Dad had overworked himself and hadn’t gotten enough sleep.”
“Like I said, these are just whispers, but it seems somebody has let something slip. I wouldn’t give credence to it if it was coming from elsewhere. But Owen’s men are rarely wrong. Apparently, the Don may have had something to do with it.”
My blood was cold before. Now, it’s ice. I stare across the function room at Frank struggling to sit upright in his chair, his date bringing another glass to his lips because he can’t do it himself. Owen, loyal as usual, sits beside him, occasionally taking a sip of his glass, answering for my uncle when he can’t.
“That’s it? That’s all they’ve said? He might have had something to do with it? It’s not very specific.”
“I can’t get to the bottom of it without arousing suspicion,” Colm says. “You’ll always come first, Killian, but I have to think about my family. It’d be one thing if you were still actively involved as the prince. That’d offer me some protection, but—”
“I get it,” I reply. “You need to take care of yourself. Have you heard this, too?” I turn to Ronan.
He nods. “Like Colm said, just whispers.”
“Do you believe them?”
Ronan shrugs. “Owen’s men are rarely wrong, but everyone makes mistakes.”
I run my hand through my hair, hating that I’m being pulled into this. But this is my father they’re talking about. I can’t ignore it. “Owen has served for decades, never once stepping out of line, loyal… to a fault, some men might say. Others would’ve tried to take the power for themselves.”
“He prefers sticking to the shadows,” Colm says with a shrug. “He gets all the reward but far less risk. It’s clever.”
“Leave this with me, and thank you,” I tell them sincerely.
Frank rises unsteadily from his seat and approaches me. “My handsome nephew!” he bellows, wrapping me in a bear hug and planting a slobbery kiss on my cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re all speaking that god-awful Irish.”