The Apprentice (The Killough Company #4)

Chapter 1

1

FIONN KILLOUGH

Dad’s funeral was held on a Thursday afternoon, sometime in February. I couldn’t remember the exact date, but when I thought back on it, I recalled the slate gray clouds. Rain on the verge of becoming ice dripped from an array of black umbrellas held by the grieving crowd. My mom knelt near Dad’s coffin, shoulders shaking. Droplets of water soaked into her black dress and the bun she’d pulled her brown hair into, but she didn’t care. When someone came over to her, she shrieked at them to leave her alone while she cried.

The only other thing I remembered clearly was my uncle, Sloan, stepping up to my side and laying a hand on my shoulder. Uncle Sloan’s grip was warm and firm, and I wasn’t afraid of him, even though we’d never spent much time together. Dad worked for Uncle Sloan, but I was never allowed to visit his house. Dad insisted that being there was too dangerous, and I never understood why.

“There are two types of people in this world, Fionn,” Uncle Sloan said.

I, at the age of four, tilted my head to stare up at him in wonder. Uncle Sloan didn’t look at me, though. His gaze was planted firmly on the coffin and Mom.

“There are those who take what belongs to them. I think of them as wolves, the predators who get what they’re hungry for. Then, there are the people who let life kick them while they’re already down, nothing more than sheep waiting to be eaten.” It was at that moment Uncle Sloan’s icy blue eyes slid toward me, and while I should’ve been scared, I wasn’t. I had the opposite reaction—I felt safe beside him. “Which one are you?”

I didn’t hesitate. “I’m the wolf, Uncle Sloan.” The word wolf came out like woof .

Sloan smirked. “Yes, you are, because you’re a Killough. An Irishman by blood. We were born to be wolves.”

I gripped the tumbler of whiskey until my knuckles turned white. I exhaled, caught between the urge to slap this prick stupid or to put a bullet in his head and end it all. Sloan hadn’t asked me to murder anyone, though.

He’d ordered me to reason with Cunningham.

“Two types of people live in this world, Christopher. The wolves, those who take what belongs to them, and the sheep, those who are more than happy to be the prey and beg for scraps.”

I didn’t miss Daire out of the corner of my eye, pursing his lips in amusement as he quickly took a sip of his drink from where he stood with his shoulder pressed against the wall. His dark hair was neat, with the longer strands on top pushed back, while his beard was short against his chin. He had a pair of his favorite sunglasses on and the blue lenses gave away nothing, but Daire knew the analogy well because Sloan loved to use it, especially when it came to business partners and those who worked for the Killough Company.

“Which one are you?” I finished, rocking my tumbler to hear the ice cubes clink together. The amber liquid sloshed against the side and the movement was entrancing, a well-rehearsed dance I’d become addicted to seeing.

I’d been drinking whiskey since I was fourteen. I’d gotten into Sloan’s stash and drunk myself into a stupor. Sloan had been furious when he’d found me, intoxicated and incredibly sick. As punishment, when I was sober, he’d taken away my credit cards for a month, leaving me bored. It could’ve been a lot worse, considering Sloan’s temper, so I’d considered myself lucky.

“Well.” Cunningham smiled and leaned back in his armchair. He dipped his cowboy hat forward and grinned. His Texan accent made the word sound more like whale .

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Cunningham had a backward mindset and couldn’t get more conservative if he tried. I hated him.

“I like to think of myself as more of a rattlesnake.” His smile widened.

I agreed. Cunningham was a snake, a vicious one at that, and I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. I peeked at Daire, watching the flicker of irritation that slipped across his handsome features. Like me, he wasn’t fond of Cunningham, and he’d offered to have my back while I was meeting with the bastard.

“Dangerous as all git-out.” Cunningham laughed and turned his attention to Daire, pointing a bony finger at him. “You’re the right-hand man, yeah? The one with a weird name. Saw it on the message Killough sent me. Is it pronounced Dare?”

Daire smiled sardonically, and I stiffened, even though Daire wouldn’t act against Sloan’s orders. He was the perfect soldier and a loyal second-in-command who’d been at Sloan’s side since the beginning. “Dar-ruh.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Most people knew him as Dare , but from what he’d told me, only his parents called him by the correct pronunciation, which was Dar-ruh . He’d explained once that after so many issues during his childhood on how to say his name, he answered to either. I preferred Daddy , if I was being completely honest.

If I had a choice about what I was doing right now, Daire and I would be upstairs in my bedroom. In that delicious scenario, he’d be fucking me until I didn’t know how to pronounce my name.

“What a weird one.” Cunningham stroked his gray beard and stared at Daire like he was a bug beneath his shoe.

Daire’s gaze turned deadly, and I sat up straighter, fingers twitching toward the gun I had hidden in the side of my chair cushion, not that I was sure I’d use it. While I’d practiced, I’d never had a reason to shoot someone. Not yet.

“It’s Irish,” Daire said.

“Ah, like the rest of you folks.” Cunningham nodded as if it all made sense. I couldn’t understand why Sloan wanted to go into business with him. I’d heard stories about Cunningham’s exploits, how he slipped cash into Mexican federales’ pockets to transport coke through small towns to get it to the American border, but Sloan already had ways to get drugs into the US. I couldn’t grasp his reasoning, but I didn’t dare ask, either. Sloan didn’t need another excuse to question whether I was the right decision as heir to the Company.

I shook my head and leaned back in my chair, taking a sip of whiskey. I cocked my head and studied the man in front of me.

Cunningham wasn’t very impressive and reminded me of an old Western movie star, with his big salt-and-pepper moustache and matching hair that hung loosely around his shoulders. The smug grin irritated me more than anything because the bastard thought he was better than me.

Well, fuck that.

“Mr. Killough has me here to make a deal with you, Christopher. You know the terms.” I pursed my lips and rested my whiskey tumbler on the arm of the chair, holding it there.

Cunningham laughed and dropped his booted feet onto the coffee table, dislodging dirt onto the pristine wood.

I gritted my teeth so tightly I thought I’d break them.

“Listen, boy, is Killough here? I want to talk to an adult, not a child.”

As far as insults went, I’d heard worse. Sure, I was twenty-six, but I wasn’t as useless as Cunningham thought. I had more experience than a lot of men my age in the mob.

Daire placed his tumbler on a console table and stepped forward to offer his protection, but I held up my hand, stopping him in his tracks. He lowered his sunglasses on his nose and gave me a pointed look, but I was already aware of his desire to break Cunningham’s neck for disrespect. I needed to do this alone.

Sloan gave us a job to do, and I wasn’t going to disappoint him. Not again. One day the Company would be mine, and if Sloan thought I wasn’t capable, he would give it to someone else... like fucking Conall, Sloan’s favorite little pet.

I would cut off my balls before I let that happen.

I leaned forward and took a deep breath to keep calm. “You will listen to me right now, Chris . You are in our house, so you will respect me. You know exactly who I am and what I can do.”

Cunningham shook his head and snorted. “Just because you’re Killough’s nephew doesn’t mean you get my respect. Earn it.”

“Fine.” I smirked and glanced at Daire.

We didn’t have to like Cunningham to do business with him.

“You want me to earn it, then here’s how I’ll do it. Let’s make a deal. We know about the drugs you’re running across the border. You paid the cops in Mexico well, but you’re having trouble getting the product past border patrol. Your last load was seized, am I right?”

His expression turned sour, bushy eyebrows furrowing. “Maybe.”

A spike of delight shot through me. “Then, this is what we’re going to do. You scratch our back, we’ll scratch yours. You can use our trade route to get into the US.”

He snorted. “Boy, New York’s too far for me to be sending my coke. It’ll be hit by the time I get it to Texas.”

“Not that route.” I leaned back in my chair and took another sip of my drink, letting the smooth liquid slide down my throat. “Florida is ours. It’s easier to get your product through there than risk the border patrol near Mexico. The men in Florida are on our payroll.”

“For now.” Cunningham’s grin returned. “You see, I’ve been hearing stuff about your Miami setup. Apparently, you’re not the only one with connections there. The Reyes Cartel has already offered me a deal, friend , and I like what they’re offering. What are you prepared to give me?”

I stiffened. Thiago Reyes and his band of pricks again. I had no idea why Sloan was letting them test his limits. If I was in charge, I would’ve destroyed their hopes and dreams in Miami already, but Sloan did everything for a reason, even if I didn’t know why.

“We would take thirty percent of your product.”

Cunningham’s laughter echoed through Sloan’s office. “Reyes only wants ten.”

Reyes wouldn’t stoop as low as ten percent.

Shooting to my feet, I glared at Cunningham. Anger sent a burst of heat through me, igniting my insides with a raging fire. My grip on my tumbler tightened until my fingers hurt. “I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you. Reyes won’t be in Miami for long, trust me.”

Cunningham’s smile grew smug again as he dropped his dirty boots to the floor and stood. He was taller than me, but not by much. “Now, don’t go pitching a hissy fit, son. Y’all are here to talk business and that’s what we’re doin’.”

“We’re done,” I growled out, raising my chin. “If you wheel and deal with Reyes, you will lose a lot of money.” I stepped in closer, aware of Daire right at my back, lending me support. “Get out of our home and don’t come back unless you’re on your knees begging for a second chance.”

“That won’t happen. The Killough Company is losing its touch.” Cunningham shook his head, baring his teeth at me in a crooked grin before tipping his hat. He stalked through the doorway, and his men were waiting for him on the other side.

I watched him go, anger still stirring in my gut until it became unbearable. I hurled my tumbler against the wall. The glass exploded in every direction, but I wasn’t done. I spun around, picked up a vase of fresh flowers that sat on the coffee table, and threw it. The vase hit the wall to my left and shattered, sprinkling glass and water all over the hardwood floor.

“Motherfucking redneck.” I curled my hands into fists and stared up at the ceiling while breathing through the rage that had me in flames.

Daire turned me around and laid his hand on my shoulder, mouth pursed and thoughtful. His sunglasses were back in place, hiding his eyes from me. “What has Sloan taught you?”

“Patience,” I said between breaths. “But fuck Cunningham.” I uncurled my hands. “Fuck him and the horse he rode in on, Daire. He disrespected us and had the balls to bring up Reyes. Fucking Reyes . Sloan needs to kill both those pricks.”

“And he will. Everything Sloan does?—”

“He does for a reason. I know. You don’t need to give me this lecture.” I shrugged off his hold and glared. “While Sloan waits, Reyes is making fucking fools of us. Look what he’s fucking doing right now in Miami.”

“Language.” Sloan’s strong voice filled the room.

I froze, fear striking me through the heart and making me wheeze in surprise as I glanced toward the door. My uncle stood there, arms crossed over his white dress shirt and deep red suspenders—which reminded me of Conall, who had a collar the same color that Sloan had put around his neck. Sloan was big on marking his slut as his property.

“Uncle, he?—”

“I know what Cunningham is like. You don’t need to tell me.” Sloan slid into the office and closed the door behind himself.

I suspected Sloan already had men leading Cunningham out of the mansion and off our property, and I wished it was me so I could flip Cunningham the bird before he left. But Killoughs didn’t do that. We kept our cool under pressure and never let fear or panic influence our decisions. More lessons Sloan had taught me.

“He’s siding with Reyes.” I dropped my shoulders forward, disappointment stirring in my gut. I’d lost out on the deal Sloan had wanted, one of the first my uncle had entrusted to me. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be the boss one day. Fuck . I wanted the position, though. I deserved to lead. I was born for it.

And I was a Killough.

“I know.” Sloan stepped toward me and rested a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. The pressure of his hold had me relaxing, and Sloan let out a sigh. “Cunningham was always going to side with Reyes. I knew they had a deal in progress.”

I stared at Sloan in surprise. “Then, why did you ask me to make an agreement with him?”

“Because you need to learn a lesson, boyo.” He slid his hand to my cheek and patted it. “Not all men can be persuaded to see reason. Cunningham has always been stubborn, an old man in a young man’s game. He’s stuck in his ways. Racist, homophobic old bastard. I’m surprised he’d deal with the Reyes Cartel in the first place, but he’s always hated me more. Not because of anything to do with the Company, but because of who I share my bed with. Even though Reyes is gay, too, Cunningham’s making a point. What I wanted was to watch your reaction.”

“I let my anger get the best of me.” I didn’t need Sloan to confirm what I already knew—I’d messed up.

“Yes, you did.” He dropped his hand and straightened. “If you were on your own, that would’ve been fine, but you weren’t. Daire is still part of the Company, and you should never show those emotions in front of your men, no matter who they are.”

I swallowed around the lump lodged in my throat, disappointment clenching my insides. Another lecture Sloan had repeated ever since I’d taken on the role of his apprentice, and I still hadn’t followed it. “I’m sorry, Uncle. But don’t you ever... feel that way? Angry at these stupid men?”

Sloan stared at me for a long moment, light blue eyes curious, before he turned to Daire and nodded.

Daire backed out of the office, closing the door, and I watched him go, not quite sure what to feel. I was confident that Sloan knew Daire and I were fucking, even though he’d never said anything. Staring at Daire had become an obsession. I couldn’t stop since the night that began it all.

The memories of Daire taking my virginity made my skin warm and belly tight, and it was the beginning of our sexual relationship. Despite me wanting so much more, Daire had made it clear that it couldn’t happen. Wouldn’t. I’d accepted that sex was the only thing I’d get from him and continued to take what I was offered like a stupid schoolboy with a crush.

“Sit down,” Sloan ordered, startling me out of my thoughts.

I followed him and took the chair Cunningham had abandoned. Sloan took mine, crossing a leg over his knee and linking his fingers together in front of himself.

No matter what he did, Sloan looked like the boss. I longed to be like him: not fazed in the slightest by anything that happened. The only time I’d seen his facade slip was whenever Conall was in danger or hurt. His reaction said everything about how much Conall meant to him, and I didn’t think Sloan’s pet realized. He didn’t comprehend how lucky he was, because while I begged for scraps, he got all of Sloan’s attention.

“You can be as angry as you want, Fionn. You can throw things around your office.” Sloan glanced toward the littered pieces of glass, and I winced. “You can take a gun to a range and imagine Cunningham’s face on the target. Hell, tape Cunningham’s picture on it for all I care.” He smirked when I laughed. “But not in front of your men. No matter who they are or how much you trust them. They must never see your weakness. Emotions are exactly that.”

I quirked a grin. “And what about your pet?”

“What about him?” he asked, the lines around his eyes tightening.

I laughed again, this time less in amusement. “Come on. Conall’s not just a pet anymore. You love him, and our enemies can see it. That’s emotion. I saw you when the rogue Italians kidnapped Conall. How you felt because he was hurt.”

I expected Sloan would deny it, wave off the comment and tell me I was wrong, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded. “I admit that my pet caught me off guard.” His face turned soft, a rare sight on Sloan Killough. He lived to look fearless and in control, but now love had overtaken him. “You once implied, when we were in Miami that first year I found him, that Conall was made of stronger stuff. It was you who made me believe he could handle what I threw at him. But now I think you underestimate Conall.”

“I must have been in a good mood,” I grumbled.

Sloan raised his dark eyebrows.

I shut my mouth quickly.

“My pet is smart. If you gave him a chance, you could be friends. Instead—” He leaned forward, staring intensely at me. “—you choose to be a jealous child who’s afraid I’ll forget about you.”

“That isn’t?—”

One corner of Sloan’s mouth curled.

“I don’t trust him.” At this point, I was repeating the same rhetoric over and over again, but I wasn’t sure if I believed myself anymore.

“Has Conall given you a reason to doubt his loyalty?” Sloan leaned back in his chair and laid his hands in his lap. “We’re not here to talk about my pet. We’re talking about you. Jealousy is another emotion you should never show. If I was to walk out of this office and ask any of the men how you feel about Conall, do you know what they would tell me?”

My stomach churned and I gritted my teeth. If I didn’t start getting my act together, Sloan would take my apprenticeship away from me for good. He’d never let me step up as boss if he thought Conall’s life was in danger. “That I was envious of him.”

“Yes. That isn’t how a Killough leads. Do you want to be the boss of this company when it’s time?”

“I do.” I sat up straighter. “It’s all I ever dreamed about.”

“Then act like a Killough,” he said. “Your father knew what was expected of us, and you should by now, too.”

Shame churned in my stomach, and I glanced away, unable to look at him any longer. Did Sloan know bringing up Dad would cause this reaction? Of course he knew. Why else would he do it? I hadn’t known Dad for long, but I had vague memories of him. I could still smell his favorite cologne, a cinnamon scent that hung in the air long after he’d left a room.

I pressed my lips together and gathered the courage to look back at Sloan. “He was a good man.”

Sloan’s mouth upturned into a rare smile. “He was the best. I loved your father.”

I nodded.

It wasn’t the first time we’d talked about Dad, but usually it wasn’t me who initiated the conversation. It hurt speaking about a man I never really knew. Being four when Dad died, I didn’t have many memories of him. My younger siblings had none, but after Dad’s death, Mom chose to take my brothers away from the life. Not me, though. I’d stayed to live out Dad’s legacy. More than that, I was going to be the boss one day.

Sloan stood, and I blinked at him when he straightened his suit. “You’re not Eoin and you never will be.”

I cringed. Ouch .

“But I don’t expect you to be. He was a great Company man, but he wasn’t passionate like you are about this business.” He laid a hand on my shoulder, his hold a comforting weight. “You’re meant for great things, but you’re young and you have a lot to learn. Your father worked for the Company because he was a family man who wanted the best for his wife and children, but you’re more than that. You’re a leader.” He leaned down to press his forehead to mine. We didn’t touch like this much anymore, but when I was a kid, Sloan would do this with me when I was upset about something. “Stop fighting your emotions. I’m not asking you to rip them out by the roots, but don’t let them rule you. It’ll get you or someone else you care about killed. It’s what got your father killed.”

I swallowed. Sloan had never told me the full story about how Dad died, only that he’d been shot in the chest by an enemy. He’d died in Sloan’s arms, begging Sloan to take care of his family, and Sloan had done that. He’d provided money to my mom and brothers, and he’d protected me while teaching me how to be a boss one day.

I never regretted becoming his apprentice. Not once. Not even when Sloan chastised or punished me for my wrongdoings. That was what fathers did, right? And Sloan was a better parent than Mom had ever been.

“Yes.” I bowed my head in respect. “Forgive me.”

Sloan gave me one more pat on the shoulder before he turned and exited the room, leaving me to wallow in a mixture of emotions. I’d disappointed him— again —and that hurt the most. Everything I’d done since I’d seen Sloan at the funeral was to make him happy, yet nothing seemed to work.

I followed him out of the office and into the hallway, walking past expensive artwork I had a feeling was obtained illegally by Oisín Kelly, the Company’s best thief. Not that Sloan ever asked Oisín where he got the paintings. Deniability and all that. Not to mention, no one would ever know they were the real artwork when Oisín was known for replacing them in art galleries with near perfect replicas.

Sloan stopped in the entranceway, in front of the stairs, and I figured out why when I came to a halt behind him.

Lor O’Guinn—a guest who’d been staying at the mansion for a while now, though I couldn’t figure out why Sloan cared about him—and Conall walked out of the dining room, deep in conversation. They didn’t see me and Sloan until they reached us.

Conall grinned when his attention landed on Sloan, his entire face lighting up. The red collar on his neck was bright against the black T-shirt clinging to his muscles and the faded jeans that molded to his ass. His sneakers were nearly the exact same shade of red as the leather around his throat.

Sloan opened his arms and dragged Conall into them, laying a hard kiss on his lips. Conall’s back arched as he got in closer and he hummed into the connection of their mouths.

Lor smiled but shifted his feet awkwardly at the display of affection. I didn’t know how old he was, but he had to be my age or younger, what with his baby face and those innocent brown eyes. Then again, he was also a strange man, with dyed-black hair bisected by a white stripe. I couldn’t decide if he was trying to be punk or a skunk.

I hadn’t spent much time around the new guy in the house and didn’t want to. From what Sloan had told me, Lor was a friend of Dr. Vail Mifflin, who in turn was the lover of four Company men.

Four .

I couldn’t even get the one man I was interested in to want more than sex. No, Daire preferred to see me as nothing more than a hole. A body. Daire’s excuses were always the same.

You’re Sloan’s nephew.

You’re the future boss of the Company.

I was tired of hearing it.

Bitterness coated my tongue and left a bad taste in my mouth. I’d tried so hard to pretend my feelings for Daire didn’t exist. We spent too much time together already, and Sloan trusted us to get the job done, but when the world around us grew quiet, when I had time to think, all I could focus on was Daire. How handsome he was. How much I desired his compliments and touch. And then, I remembered the heartache of rejection.

My mouth twisted, anger beating in my chest. Sloan thought me and Daire were fucking, and while he was right, that was all it was.

Fucking.

Sex.

Physical, because I wasn’t worth more than that. Daire didn’t want anything from me.

When we fucked, I was his, but only until we came, and then I was nobody but his boss’s nephew again. I wasn’t good enough to be in a public relationship with him, and it was that knowledge that had me choking back tears in the dead of night.

How pathetic was I? So desperate for a man who didn’t want me in return.

“Why are you still here?” I snapped before I could stop myself, glaring at Lor. Taking my anger out on other people was easier than facing my own sadness. “Don’t you have a home to go to?”

Lor startled, turning wide brown eyes on me. “I . . . .”

“He was invited to stay at my home by me.” Sloan filled in for Lor’s panic, his eyes narrowed on me from over Conall’s shoulder. His lips pursed together in a decisively irritated way.

I flinched.

“He lives in the city, and it’s a long drive to the Hamptons for the work he does with Vail, so I offered him a room.”

“Stop being a jealous brat,” Conall teased with a wink.

“Stop being a—” Slut . I cut myself off before I went too far. Sloan would kill me if I actually said it out loud, and by the darkening of Sloan’s eyes, he knew what I’d planned on saying wasn’t anywhere near friendly.

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” he warned.

I kept my mouth closed and bowed my head in respect, bitterness growing in its force to dominate my entire being. I’d been here longer than Conall and Lor combined, yet I couldn’t do anything right in Sloan’s eyes, and that was the worst part of the entire situation. They got more attention from Sloan. Maybe Sloan was right, and I was making my jealousy too obvious, but I couldn’t stop. I wanted Sloan to look at me and smile with pride, then tell me I was doing a fantastic job. Was that too much to ask?

“Pet, take Lor out to the garage. I know I promised to take you both out for a late lunch. I need to talk to Fionn for a moment.” It sounded like Sloan was kissing Conall again, but I didn’t dare look in case I said something I’d regret. Tension seeped into my stomach, burning as I kept my eyes on the floor.

Echoing footsteps caused me to finally glance up at Sloan and lick my lips nervously. “Sorry, Uncle.”

Sloan raised his dark eyebrows and stepped in closer, crossing his arms. “Stop with the apologies. I’m sick and tired of them.”

I winced. “Yes, Uncle.”

“Everything I say to you is being ignored.” The disappointment in Sloan’s voice had acid rising in my throat. “I tell you to control your jealousy, and a moment later you nearly insult my pet. Again.”

“I’m trying.” I hated how small I sounded, but it was hard to be anything else around Sloan. He loomed over me and made me feel like a child again, tiny and naive. I wasn’t those things anymore, yet Sloan still scared me.

“No, you’re not.” Sloan heaved a sigh and fixed his suspenders, and my attention slid to his fingers and the way they worked the material. “Maybe I was wrong, and you’ll never be ready to be the boss of this company.”

My heart stuttered and I sucked in a deep breath. “Uncle, I’m s—” I swallowed around my apology, anxiety making me sweat. The thought of losing the Company had my chest squeezing until it felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I won’t fail you, I swear.” My voice wobbled and I gritted my teeth, trying to stop the fear that made me shake. “I won’t . This is my legacy. Mine .”

Sloan got in close to my face, baring his teeth so angrily that I thought he was going to hurt me. I knew better, though. He’d always threatened and made the men think he’d punish me, but he never did. “Then, earn it. Right now, you’re acting like a child. You might be an adult, Fionn, but if you want this, you don’t have time to act blasé about the Company. The moment you let your guard down, someone will kill you, and I won’t have your death on my conscience, too. Not like your father. Do you understand?”

He straightened and took a deep breath, the coolness returning to his strong face. Any anger he’d shown had disappeared and the tightness around his sea-blue eyes loosened.

Shock had me frozen. “Uncle?—”

“Stop disappointing me,” he said sharply, startling me. “Tomorrow, you and Daire will start looking for that rat again. Get me results or I swear you won’t like the consequences. This has gone on for far too long. Daire has a new lead. Follow up on it.”

Tears of frustration welled in my eyes and I blinked, trying to force them back. I wouldn’t cry in front of Sloan, yet the unbearable shame wasn’t easy to ignore. I couldn’t remember a time when Sloan had gotten this angry at me.

“Don’t cry. For fuck’s sake, Fionn. Don’t.” Sloan didn’t wait for me to say anything else. He slipped past me and walked toward the hallway.

When I heard the back door slam open and close—causing me to jump—I dropped my head and let the tears slip down my face. Fuck . I was a Company man. I couldn’t cry. Yet all the years of hard work and emotional pain had finally caught up to me. What would I have to do to make Sloan happy?

More footsteps had me rubbing the tears away from my face. I turned, sighing when I caught sight of Daire standing at the top of the split staircase. The white steps gleamed under the chandeliers, giving him an angelic glow like he was my savior. That’s all I needed. More reasons to be ashamed. Daire had never seen me cry, and now here I was, eyes red and cheeks stained by tears.

Daire took each step slowly, his hand skimming the black handrails until he hit the bottom. He stopped when he stood in front of me and reached out to rub his thumb over my cheek.

I stiffened, the warmth of Daire’s skin creating a ripple of pleasure that cannonballed through me. I couldn’t remember the last time Daire had touched me affectionally outside of the bedroom.

“You’re okay, boy,” he whispered, smiling. “He’s been in a bad mood this week. It’s not you. He’s worried about everything happening with the Reyes Cartel.”

I nodded, unsure what else to do, but I didn’t have a chance to consider Daire’s touch before his hand snapped back to his side.

“Meet me here at eight tomorrow morning. We have business.”

“Wait.” One word and it was barely whispered, the hint of hesitation in my voice making me flinch.

He stopped and glanced back at me.

“Tonight? I could really... use you.” I ignored the shame that curled inside me, but my hunger for him and the need for comfort took control. I craved more, so much more with Daire, but I’d take what I could get. Even if it was only getting fucked by Daddy Daire.

My Daddy was a completely different person from the Daire that I worked with. He gave me exactly what I needed and took care of me, while also fucking me until there were no anxious thoughts in my head.

“I’ll be back in four hours.”

Then, he was gone, out the front door, probably to go home.

I laid my hand on my cheek where Daire had touched me and sighed. I couldn’t remember the last person who’d made me feel this good. He brought all my emotions to the surface. When we were together, I could let go of my shame and anger.

I sighed and dropped my hand. Who was I kidding? He felt sorry for me, just like the rest of the crazy assholes in the Company. They all thought of me as weak.

Fuck them. I would prove them wrong.