Dublin Charmer - Sneak Peak
Finn
The Great Hall at the Clontarf Castle hums with laughter and music, filled with the warmth of our annual Quinn family and friends Christmas party. We’re dressed to impress in Tom Ford tuxedos, and while I’ve been told a dozen times how hot I look, I can’t shake the cold that clings to my bones.
The venue is glowing with holiday cheer—twinkling lights wrapped around every banister, the scent of roasted meats and mulled wine thick in the air, and mince pies disappearing faster than the catering staff can replenish them.
I stand near the window, watching snow fall like dust from the heavens, softening the sharp lines of the manicured grounds outside.
Inside, everything feels too loud, too much.
Tag and the twins thrive in this sort of situation, their voices rising above the crowd, their women close by, thriving as if they were born to love their Quinn men.
Tag holds Laine’s hand like she’s the only thing tethering him to earth, her belly rounded with the next generation of our bloodline. In less than a month, our little Quinn princess will be with us. That’s been the best gift this holiday season—hands down.
After Da’s death, Tag moved out and our home felt like a hollow shell of what it once was. Laine and Baby Q brought him back to us—made us a family again.
A lot has changed in the past year.
Aiden and Henessey flank Tag, throwing back drinks with a celebratory gleam in their eyes.
Tag is every inch the leader Da raised him to be—strong, steady, feared—and the other heads of families have realized that over the past year.
Sean isn’t normally one for public affairs, but this party is all about family and friends, so he’s more at ease than usual. At the moment, he’s deep in it with Kieran and Gallagher, the Devils’ top brass.
Piper’s laugh cuts through the air, softening Sean’s rough edges in a way I still can’t quite believe. He was born to rule from the shadows, to lead men who answer to no one but him, but there’s light in him now.
She put it there.
Brendan leans in close to Nora, his voice low, his hand resting on her thigh like he owns the space around her. Which, knowing how Quinn’s protect what is theirs, he likely does.
And Bryan… well, Bryan’s still got that restless look in his eye, even with Harper by his side, his arm slung protectively around her shoulders. It’s better than it was, but having lost one love already, loving Harper just opens him up to being shattered once again.
I hope it’s worth it.
And me? I’m the one who keeps the lights on, the money clean, the deals running smoothly, and the enemies one step behind us—quietly, from behind my screen.
No cheers for the hacker. No toasts for the one who’s never bled for the cause… not in any way that counts.
I don’t begrudge them their happiness. They’ve earned it, every scar and shadow they carry has been hard earned. But sometimes, standing on the outside is like watching a play where everyone knows the part they’re playing but me.
I scan the room, letting my gaze fall on familiar faces—family, friends, and allies. Jimmy Frances throws his head back in a laugh, his voice gravelly as hell in his old age.
As well as running the pub we frequent, the man’s a legend, our father’s enforcer, and a fixture in our lives since I was in nappies.
Beside him, the lovely Ginny sips from a crystal glass, her gaze catching mine.
She’s a firecracker and a knockout, and being six years older than me, reined as queen of my shower pleasure inspirations for most of my teenage years.
I always got the feeling she fancied Tag, but he never seemed interested. I don’t understand that one bit.
Ginny is a goddess. She has never made me feel insignificant or less than. With her, there is no pretense, no ‘you’re the youngest,’ no ‘stay out of the way, Finny’.
She’s always been good to me.
I give her a nod, and she answers with a lift of her glass. It’s nothing, but it’s a comfort in a room full of noise and expectations.
I lean back against the wall, arms crossed, letting the sounds of the party wash over me. Maybe tonight isn’t about feeling left out. Maybe it’s about seeing things for what they are—and what they’re not.
My brothers are fighters, warriors, leaders.
But me…?
The hum of conversation fades into background noise as I get lost in thought—at least until Tag catches my attention. He’s across the room, standing with Jimmy, deep in that kind of conversation that hardens jaws and tightens shoulders.
Tag lifts his chin, a silent summons.
No rest for the weary.
I push off the wall and make my way over, weaving through the crowd, accepting good-natured shouts and claps on the back. Toasting and smiling, I make my way toward my oldest brother.
Brenny hands me a shot of Fireball and I throw it back before downing the last of my beer. The cinnamon burn feels good, and I swap my empty glass for a fresh pint I snag from the server walking past.
The room has taken on a lovely spin, and I have no intention of wasting the buzz. Tonight is a party.
“Happy Christmas, Finn,” Ginny says as I get close.
“To you as well, Ginny. Save me a dance, will you?”
“Och, you know I will.”
I clink glasses with her and make it over to Tag and her father.
“Finny, I was telling Jimmy what you’ve dug up about Gravely’s plan recently,” Tag says.
I look over my shoulder to make sure Laine isn’t within earshot. “Christ. Are you trying to put us into the bad books? Your wife said no family business tonight or there will be hell to pay.”
“Aye. She means it, too.” Tag winks. “But I’m willing to take the punishment for the both of us, little brother. Don’t you worry about that. So, go on. Tell him.”
Jimmy folds his arms across his broad chest, and fixes me with a look that weighs heavy. “Aye, what have you got, kid?”
Kid. I hate when he calls me that, but I don’t flinch. Why would I? I’ve been ‘kid’ or ‘little brother’ or ‘Finny’ my entire life. I’m twenty-five years old and the people in my family treat me like I’m still fourteen.
Knowing we likely haven’t got much time before Laine’s radar goes off and we’re busted for talking shop, I fill Jimmy in.
I tell him how Billy Gravely’s been stockpiling. Not just manpower—he’s bringing in guns, heavy ones. Outsourcing through contacts in Belfast, and I’ve traced some chatter that puts him in talks with lads from the mainland too. This isn’t small-time posturing.
Jimmy’s jaw tightens. “So, he’s making a move.”
“Aye, he is. What we don’t know is where he’s aiming his assault. He could be after the McGuire brothers—to take out Niall and the others to claim all of South Dublin for himself. Or he’s gunning for us”
“Or both,” Tag adds.
I nod. “There’s that, too.”
Jimmy swears under his breath, low and vicious. “Fucking Gravely.”
Tag’s eyes narrow, all that sharp intelligence behind them flickering like a storm. “If that fucker thinks he can come at us unprovoked and walk away from it, he can think again. Northside is ours. If he wants it, he’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”
Jimmy gives a grim nod and claps Tag on the shoulder. “I’ll reach out to my old contacts and see what they’ve heard. If Gravely is coming for you, he won’t get far before I know about it.”
Jimmy shifts his attention to me next. “Keep digging, kid. The more we know, the better. If there’s intel to find, you need to find it.”
Tag’s grip tightens around his glass, the ice inside clinking as he swirls the amber liquid. “And find it fast, Finny. We’ve got a lot riding on you.”
Jimmy walks away and I stay rooted to the spot, the weight of Tag’s words settling heavy on my chest. For the first time, my fingers itch for more than a keyboard—I want to fight, to bleed, to prove I’m not just the one who watches from the shadows.
The snow outside thickens, blanketing the world in white. But even as the party rages on behind me, I feel something dark looming in the distance.
Gravely’s just the start.
Whatever is coming for us, I’m ready to step out from behind my computer and take it head on.