Chapter 11
Declan
Every morning I’m greeted with ten thousand emails.
This isn’t how I pictured my life would go. Back when I was still young, I daydreamed about being the leader of the Whelan clan.
In my head, it’d be all fancy parties and brutal violence. I’d ride around in nice cars, steal gold from banks, and retire to my beautiful penthouse suite to sleep on a bed of hundred-dollar bills.
Instead, there are way more fucking spreadsheets than I ever pictured.
Mostly because our companies are legit.
That’s the best cover for our real activities.
If the Feds ever come snooping around, all they’ll see are actual businesses making actual money.
Which means half of my life is spent managing real employees and dealing with actual clients.
While the other half is juggling a criminal enterprise.
More of that work has fallen on me this past year.
As Dad’s health takes a turn, I’ve been stepping up to cover for him.
But it’s about more than just the daily operations. I need to make sure our captains and associates see me as the rightful heir. When Dad passes, I don’t want to risk any upheaval, resistance, or violence.
The last thing we need is a fucking civil war.
So I answer emails. I reach out to clients, both legit and less-than-legit, and I show strength.
If problems come up, I resolve them as quickly and efficiently as I can.
I make damn sure that everyone knows I’m in charge.
Sometimes I’m jealous of my brothers.
Seamus is our street boss. He’s out there with the soldiers doing the actual grind.
Cormac runs our spy network and assassination squad.
He used to be our one-man killing machine, but ever since he started a family, he’s been transitioning to a new role.
He spends his days fighting our enemies and ensuring all our supply routes and shipping containers are protected.
While I answer more fucking emails.
After an hour, the coffee’s not working anymore. I hit the buzzer button, and Casey appears in my office door a moment later. “Come inside and take a seat.”
She does as instructed. My wife sits with her back straight, her hands folded in her lap, like she’s done a thousand times before. But today she’s gazing straight into my eyes with a lot more confidence than I remember.
“You snore,” she says.
I go very still and narrow my eyes. “Excuse me?”
“I heard it last night. You snore.”
“I don’t snore. You must’ve heard the neighbor.”
“Sounded like a chainsaw was cutting down a tree in your room.”
My jaw twitches. “Is that how you normally talk to your boss?”
She shrugs and glances at her nails. I can tell she’s trying not to smile. “Not normally.”
“Just because we’re engaged, you think you can behave differently?”
“I know I can.” That smile finally breaks through. “What’ll you do? Fire me?” She crosses her legs, totally at ease, and leans back. I glance at her thigh and feel a slight ripple in my chest. “You’re still going to pay me no matter what.”
I take a moment to recalibrate.
She’s absolutely correct. I could fire her—and frankly, I really should—but it’s not like she’d be out of my life forever. I’d still find her at home making a mess of things and lounging around the house.
I’ve been patient. The girl lost her best friend. But my god, I don’t think she knows how to close a drawer to save her life. It’s madness. She treats them like shelves with walls. Drives me insane.
For the past two years, Casey’s been a loyal and competent employee. She’s been smart, hardworking, and polite. This is the first time she’s ever talked to me with anything but professionalism and respect.
I’m not sure I like it.
“Do you like working here?” I cross my arms and match her casual pose.
“It’s not bad. The pay’s been good. The boss—” She wags a hand side to side. “He’s hit or miss.”
I stare at her, not smiling. “Then why are you still here?”
She falters. Some of her bravado fades. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m still your assistant. We haven’t discussed anything else.”
“I think you want to be here. Otherwise, you would’ve quit.”
“That can’t be right.”
“Then why are you here, Casey?” I slowly stand and come around my desk. She stares at me, that smirk completely gone. I lean back in front of her, and I like how she looks up into my eyes, her mouth slightly open. “For now, you’re still my employee. Which means I demand respect.”
“You can’t demand it. You have to earn it.”
“Don’t quote motivational posters at me. If you’re going to sit at that desk and continue to act as my executive assistant, you will not let our personal relationship affect your professional conduct. Do you understand me?”
She straightens slightly. “Maybe I should quit.”
“Maybe you should. You could easily stay back at my apartment.”
“Our apartment.”
“But you’re here, and while you’re here, you will respect me.”
Her jaw works. I can tell she’s struggling with this. Honestly, if I were in her position, I would get up, storm out, and never show my face in this office again.
Instead, she straightens again. “What do you need from me, Mr. Whelan?”
A little excited spark burns in my guts.
I really like it when she calls me that.
It’s almost as good as sir.
“You know my father’s sick. My mother doesn’t think he has much time left. Before he passes, I need to consolidate my power to ensure a smooth transition of power. That means I have to take meetings.”
“Meetings?” she asks sheepishly. “I thought you were, you know, a crime family. Can’t you just… kill everyone who doesn’t do what you say?”
“I could, but that would make me very bad at my job. I’m a leader, Casey, not a mass murderer. I gain consensus and take charge through actions, not through coercion. Although I will go to those extremes if needed.”
“Right, so instead you’re taking… meetings.”
“Exactly. I’ll give you a list of people to contact. I want my books filled starting tomorrow.”
“Sounds like we’re about to be very busy.”
“Yes, we are.” I push off the desk and lean closer. “Can you handle it?”
She unconsciously spins the engagement ring on her finger. I like the way she fidgets with it.
“Yes, Mr. Whelan.”
I move closer and reach out. She lets out a soft, strangled groan when I touch her cheek and hold her stare. “I want you to call me sir from now on. I like it better.”
Her mouth hangs open. “Is that appropriate for work… sir?”
“No, it’s not, but I find myself struggling to keep my personal desires separate from my professional composure.”
“But you expect that from me?”
“I expect you to do your job, Ms. Brennan.”
“I thought I was Mrs. Whelan.”
“Not yet.” I lean down, cupping her cheek. “But soon.” I kiss her lightly. She sucks a breath in through her nose and looks dazed when I pull back.
“Yes, sir,” she says very quietly.
It makes my heart race in my chest.
I force myself back behind the desk. I need to put space between me and her. This is going to be more difficult than I thought. I’m already crossing lines I shouldn’t get anywhere near.
“One more thing,” I say before dismissing her. “I just wanted to let you know that I will be taking care of Natalie’s funeral expenses. I’ve already reached out to her parents and made them aware of the arrangements.”
Her eyes widen. “You are? Seriously?”
“She was my employee. I feel like I have some responsibility toward her, and after what happened—” I leave that in the air.
Casey covers her face with both hands. Her shoulders shake, and I realize she’s crying. I sit back, slightly startled and at a loss.
Why is she reacting like that? I thought she’d be happy. I’m not paying for this funeral because I actually care about Natalie. She was just some girl who worked for me.
I’m doing it for Casey.
“Thank you,” she says, wiping her face and trying to smile, but she’s still crying. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re upset. Do you need a minute?”
“No. I’m fine.” She takes a shuddering breath. “I’m totally fine. I’m sure her parents really appreciate it. One less burden to carry.”
“That’s the idea. If you need a break—”
“Don’t worry. Email me the list of contacts and I’ll start scheduling meetings.” She pushes to her feet and composes herself. “Anything else, sir?”
“That will be all, Ms. Brennan.”
She nods and hurries out.
I watch her go. The door clicks shut once she’s gone, and I feel strangely alone.
I’ve never had to comfort someone before.
When she broke down just now, I didn’t know what to do.
There was no crisis, no problem to solve, no battle to fight.
Just a girl dealing with her grief.
And I just sat there.
Emotions are difficult for me. I was taught a long time ago that the future boss of the Whelan Clan has to be in control of himself no matter how he feels. I learned to suppress myself, but that also means I have no idea how to deal with them in others.
Now I have a wife.
And she cries.
I’ll have to figure it out.