Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
KIERAN
I don’t know how long I stand at the kitchen island, staring at the crisp induction packet Riley discarded.
The smiling face on the front makes my teeth grind.
I doubt the woman even works for Lever Industries.
It should be Riley’s smiling face on the front, not just because she’s beautiful, but because I truly believe she could become that much of an asset that Ross Lever would be a fool not to plaster her face on a billboard in Times Square.
It’s what I thought she wanted, but instead of looking excited at the prospect of joining such a well-respected company, she looked almost defeated, and I can’t work out why.
Her decision to walk away from such an opportunity makes no damn sense. She was practically glowing when she first told me about it, and now she’s brushing it off like it was never important to her.
That’s not Riley. She doesn’t quit, at least not without a reason.
Snatching up the induction packet, I head back upstairs to Ronan’s office.
When I pass Ciara’s room, the two girls are chatting on the other side of the door.
Is Riley using Ciara as an excuse to get out of talking to me about her internship?
The thought makes my chest tighten.
Why would she avoid talking to me about this?
I fight the urge to storm inside and demand she tell me the truth.
Riley clearly wants space, and I’ll give her that, for now.
So, I head down the hall to Ronan’s office and toss the information packet on the table face down so I don’t have to stare at the mocking smile on the cover.
Taking a seat at the desk, I switch on the computer and load the email inbox that is tied to Sullivan Investments.
I groan.
In the space of twelve hours, I already have over two hundred emails to go through. A few months ago, I would have killed to have this level of responsibility.
Seeing Ronan sitting behind the desk at Sullivan Investments, the very one our father occupied, made me bitter with jealousy. I never understood why he would resent the responsibility handed to him, but now I do.
Right now, I want nothing more than to talk with Riley, but instead I’m in here reading through budget reports.
I guess you do have to be careful what you wish for.
After an hour, I’ve barely made a dent in the emails, mostly due to the fact that I can’t focus. All I can think about is Riley.
I lean back in the chair, drumming my fingers against the armrest, trying to understand what could be going on in her head.
She said she was going to help Ciara with something baby-related, but that was an hour ago, or maybe two. Either way, it’s been long enough that I’ve replayed our last conversation in my mind a dozen times, pulling it apart, looking for the truth underneath the words she threw at me.
Is she actually in there helping Ciara, or is she avoiding me?
My gut tells me it’s the latter.
Before I can spiral too far, my phone starts vibrating on the desk. The name flashing across the screen is the last contact I reached out to for information on Cormac, and I’m hoping he’ll finally have something concrete.
I swipe to answer and put the call on speaker. “Talk to me, Ash.”
“Wish I had better news.” His voice is gravelly from years of smoking cigarettes. “I asked around, but nobody’s seen him. Not even a whisper of a location.”
My jaw tightens. “Nothing?”
“Nothing. It’s like he vanished into thin air.”
No one just disappears. Someone is clearly covering for him, or at the very least, giving him money and a way to stay underground.
The only question is who?
“If you hear anything, you call me first.”
“Of course.”
I hang up the phone and curl my fingers around it, the urge to hurl it across the room almost overwhelming.
It’s been days of chasing threads that lead nowhere but dead ends every single time. And with each day that passes, Cormac inches further and further out of reach.
I push out a breath and drag a hand over my face.
Someone is helping him, that much I know in my gut. Nobody survives off the grid this long without backup. Maybe it’s family or maybe it’s some old contact with a grudge against us. Either way, we’ve got a traitor in our midst.
But it’s not just Cormac I’m worried about. I can’t shake the thought that while I’m wasting my time chasing my brother, Riley is pulling away from me.
She’s hiding something. It was written all over her face when she told me she was turning down the internship. What I can’t seem to figure out is why.
I shove the thought down and open up my documents folder to go through the files on Cormac once more.
There’s page after page of financial reports and surveillance notes, but none of it gives any clues to where he might be hiding.
There has to be something we’ve missed. Nobody slips away without leaving a trace. I know Cormac has left one. I just haven’t found it yet.
My search for answers is short-lived when Ronan storms into his office twenty minutes later, wearing a grim expression on his face.
I swear, I can’t remember the last time my brother genuinely smiled other than when he’s in Ciara’s presence.
I thought putting me in charge was meant to take the weight off his shoulders, but from the shadows under his eyes, it seems to have done the opposite.
I know before he opens his mouth that whatever he’s about to say is bad news, because that’s all I seem to hear lately.
“What?” I demand.
“I just got word from a source that Sean’s planning another attack.”
My stomach drops. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Two o’clock sharp.” Ronan’s jaw ticks as he looks toward the window, a distant look on his face. “He’s targeting Sullivan Investments.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“He’s past targeting the warehouses or the clubs. He’s going after our legit business.”
“So, his plan to get us to back off is to kill innocent civilians?”
Ronan nods once.
I can practically see the fury radiating off of him as his eyes flick back to me.
“He wants to take out secretaries, accountants, and security guards. People who don’t have shit to do with the family business except cashing a paycheck with our name on it.”
I lean back in the chair, my hands curling into fists.
A bloodbath. That’s what this will be if we let Sean get inside the building.
Dozens of people will die, and for what? Once the media gets hold of this, Sullivan Investments will lose everything. Our clean reputation and the businesses our father built brick by brick will be tainted beyond repair.
This will ruin us.
Ronan collapses into one of the chairs across from me and rakes a hand through his hair.
“We can’t let that happen. Not just for the business but for our employees.
They trust us to keep them safe while they work.
They don’t even know they’re stepping into a warzone, and I want to keep it that way. ”
My pulse hammers in my ears.
Sean isn’t just coming for us anymore. He’s coming for everything we stand for, everyone attached to our name.
“So, we stop it. We stop it before he sets foot in that building.”
Ronan’s eyes lock with mine. “Exactly.”
He doesn’t need to say the rest. We both know what’s at stake. If we fail, we’ll have more than blood on our hands. We’ll have the ruin of everything the Sullivans have built, and the guilt of all the innocent people who paid the price.
I think of Riley and the way she smiled when I promised her dinner. It makes my chest ache knowing that something so small can bring her so much happiness.
She deserves so much more than a dinner, and yet, she still accepts my measly efforts with a smile that takes my breath away.
What happens when I can no longer keep the violence of this world away from her?
This world may come with money and power. But on days like this, where I stare down the possibility of losing everything, I feel anything but powerful.
I square my shoulders. “All right, we need a plan.”
Ronan offers me a grim nod. “First thing we need to do is tighten the security at Sullivan Investments. I’ll get Brennan to double the guards and sweep the building for weaknesses.
I want every entrance and emergency exit covered, and not a single blind spot in the cameras.
I don’t care if it costs a fortune. We’re not giving Sean a single opening. ”
“It’s a start, but it won’t be enough to only play defense. We need eyes on the ground. If Sean’s sending men in, we have to know where they’re staging. Otherwise, we’re just a bunch of sitting ducks.”
“I’ll put a tail on Sean’s known associates. If there’s any unusual movement tomorrow morning, we move in.”
I nod. But it still feels like it won’t be enough.
Sean is smart. He won’t make the mistake of being predictable.
I lean forward, pressing my palms against the desk. “We can’t just react, Ronan. We need to send a message. If Sean wants to start a war with us, then we need to show him the cost. Make him think twice about targeting our people again.”
Ronan’s lips press into a thin line. “You’re talking about blood.”
“I’m talking about survival. If we let him think civilians are fair game, what’s next? The families of our men? Riley and Ciara?”
Before he can answer, the door opens, and Brennan walks in.
His usual crooked smile vanishes the moment he looks at me. “Tell me what I need to do.”
“You can pour us all a fucking drink,” I sigh, exhaustion starting to creep in.
I can’t remember the last time I slept for more than a few hours at a time. Normally, caffeine and adrenaline are enough to keep it at bay, but the moment I think of Riley, it all comes crashing down.
Brennan does just that, stalking over to the bar cart and pouring all of us a triple whiskey.
“Remind me to restock that once this is over,” I say to Ronan, who huffs a laugh.
“I’ll hold you to that, so you better not fucking die.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Brennan settles a glass down in front of Ronan and me and takes a seat on the arm of the couch. “What’s going on? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
My eyes go to our big brother. “Do you want to tell him, or should I?”
Ronan waves a hand as he takes a long sip of his whiskey, hissing through his teeth as it slides down his throat. “Buckle up, Brennan, shit just got real.”
By the time I’m done, Brennan’s jaw is clenched and his hands are balled into fists.
All three of our drinks are long empty, so Ronan goes to collect the half-empty decanter and sets it down on the desk.
Brennan’s brows are furrowed. “We can’t just let Sean do this.”
“Of course, we’re fucking not,” I retort. “Not just because we have a responsibility to our employees, but also if the media catches so much as a whiff of any of this, we’re ruined.”
“So, what’s the plan? Hit him first?”
Ronan shakes his head. “He’ll be expecting us to retaliate.”
“What he won’t be expecting is for us to intercept them at the point of attack,” I finish.
Brennan frowns. “That sounds risky. We would still be allowing Sean’s men to get close enough to the business.”
Ronan smirks. “Which is why we’re going to do just that. Sean won’t expect us to let him get so close, so when we do, his men are going to be cocky and less alert.”
“They’ll think they’re going to get away with it.” Brennan grins.
I tilt my drink in his direction. “You catch on quick.”
Brennan smirks as he freshens up his own.
“Sometimes, it really freaks me out how much you sound like the old man.”
Ronan rolls his eyes, but I can see the faint glimmer of pride in them.
I take a sip of whiskey. “I can still hear his voice, sometimes. The way he would talk us through his rules at the dinner table even though we were barely old enough to understand.”
“The business comes first,” Brennan echoes, and we all nod.
“Not the money or the power,” I add.
“But the people,” Ronan finishes. “They keep us standing, so you will protect them like family.”
“Because in the end, they are.”
To our dad, Sullivan Investments was so much more than a business. It was a symbol. A promise that the Sullivans weren’t just a bunch of bloodthirsty gangsters. We were providers and protectors.
My father bled for that promise, and now Sean O’Keefe wants to shatter it.
Well, over my dead body.