Chapter 2
Two
KILLIAN
A fter interviewing potential managers, I take a corner booth with my mother and my sister, Ellie. Both of them are elegant women, Mom wearing pearls around her neck and in her ears, her silver hair woven into a pattern. Ellie is a bright-eyed young woman with her hair in a bun, her sleeves rolled up because she’s recently been in the kitchen, learning from my chefs as she follows her passion to enter the culinary arts.
“I know what you’re going to ask me,” Mom says as we sit down. “Do we have to go to this damn party?”
Ellie laughs. “Mom, that was a seriously great impression. You got the perfect combination of grumpiness and whininess.”
I chuckle, ruffling my sister’s hair. “Your constant teasing never gets old.”
She smooths her hair down, pouting at me. “You’re wrong anyway, Mom. He’s thinking about his lucky charm . Can’t you tell? He’s been away in the clouds all morning.”
I grind my teeth, trying to force a smile to my face, to play it off casually. But Ellie has hit the truth squarely in the jaw.
“You could invite her to the party,” Ellie says a moment later.
“You want me to invite a civilian to a mob party?” I grunt. “No, Ellie. I wouldn’t do that. Those morning talks with Lucy need to stay as far away from the mob as they can. Hell, I want to stay away from the mob.”
“You know we have to make an appearance,” Mom mutters. “Your uncle would take it as a slight if you didn’t show up.”
“Uncle Frank doesn’t even run the damn organization,” I say, sighing heavily. “Thank God for Owen.”
Owen has been with the Family since my grandfather’s time. After my grandfather’s passing, he became consigliere to my father, and then to my uncle when my father passed. If Owen hadn’t been so level-headed and prevented the Family from imploding or devolving into war, I would have had to become Don. I’ve never wanted that. I’ve never wanted the darkness it forces into a man’s soul.
“Yes, thank God for Owen,” Mom replies. “He’s been a rock. After your grandfather’s heart attack, and then…” Her voice goes croaky. “Your father’s car accident… Who knows what Frank would’ve done to the Family by now if we didn’t have Owen steering us? But that doesn’t change the fact that we have to go. People expect to see the Callahan prince. Otherwise, whispers start… and you know where whispers lead.”
“War,” I say, looking around the restaurant. “Sometimes, when we’re working on a new project or having a drink after a busy day, I can almost forget we’re part of this crap.”
“Like it or not, this is part of us,” Mom says. “I’ve been in this life since I was younger than Ellie.”
“You’re not part of it anymore,” I growl. “And Ellie’s never going to be part of it.”
“Owen won’t live forever,” Mom mutters.
I curl my hand into a fist, thinking of Lucy, but that’s not saying much. I’ve been thinking of her a lot today. After she playfully punched me, I wanted to tease her about it, maybe brush her unruly red hair from her forehead, tuck it behind her ear… do the things normal men do with women they’re attracted to. But I can’t indulge myself.
“He’s an old man,” Mom goes on. “He’s been in the game a long time. When he’s gone, do you think you can trust Frank?”
I massage my forehead. “I thought we were talking about the party. Or going to discuss travel arrangements or talk about tuxedos versus suits. Not… this.”
“I’m sorry,” Mom says. “You’re right. These are concerns for another day. I was thinking of arriving with Frank and Owen in their limo. I know, I know,” she goes on, probably seeing how distasteful the idea is to me. “You want to spend as little time with them as possible, especially your Uncle Frank, but people need to see unity.”
“You’re right,” I reply reluctantly. “We’ll arrive together.”
Mom nods, taking out her phone, shooting off a text. “Ellie’s right,” she says after a pause.
“Huh?”
“About this lucky charm of yours… about Lucy, is it?”
“Lucy, yes,” I reply.
“You could invite her. You don’t have to tell her it’s a family event. Just tell her it’s a part?—”
“No, Mom,” I cut in. “I can’t do that. I can’t lie to her. And I’d rather die than throw her into contact with Uncle Frank… or anybody from this world. Even Colm and Ronan, my friends, men I like , I wouldn’t want to meet her. Lucy is special. She’s a civilian. I don’t want any of this to touch her. Ever.”
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 .”
“We were speaking Gaelic, yes, Uncle,” I reply, wiping my cheek. “But only to keep up the practice. Not to offend you, of course. I know you never learned, and it makes you feel left out.”
For a moment, tension slices through the interaction. Colm and Ronan stiffen beside me. Comments like these could easily provoke Uncle Frank’s rage… but not with me, not with the mafia prince, even if I’ve never wanted the crown.
He laughs and claps me on the arm. “My nephew’s a funny one, isn’t he?”
“Yes, boss,” Ronan says.
“The funniest,” Colm agrees.