CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CIAN
JACK’S OFFICE IS exactly as I remember it—dark, imposing, and suffocatingly expensive. The walls are lined with shelves filled with leather-bound books I doubt he’s ever read, and the massive desk between us is made of some glossy wood that probably costs more than my car. Jack sits behind it like a king on his throne, his chair too large, his tailored suit too perfect. He looks up from the papers in front of him, a glass of whiskey in one hand, and fixes me with the same indifferent gaze he always has.
“Cian,” he says, leaning back. His voice is smooth, calculated, like he already knows the end of every conversation before it even starts. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
It’s a formality. There’s no pleasure in this for either of us.
“I came to thank you,” I say, my tone stiff. “For stepping in when you didn’t have to.”
He raises a brow, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t have to?” He swirls the whiskey lazily in his glass, the ice clinking. “Let’s not rewrite history, Cian. You needed me, and I delivered. Let’s leave it at that.”
I grit my teeth. This is why I can’t stand him—always so smug, so untouchable. Still, he’s right. We needed him, and he came through. Begrudgingly, I nod.
“It’s over,” I say, more to myself than him. “Three weeks, and the news is still eating it up. Gang war this, gang war that. They blame Richard’s own men for killing his son, Mark, and then trying to overthrow Richard, saying it caused an internal collapse.”
Jack shrugs, unbothered. “That’s what we pay the Gardai for.”
I want to argue, to call him out on his arrogance, but what’s the point? Jack and I will never see eye to eye. We’ve tolerated each other out of necessity; our fathers are brothers, that’s the only reason we must appear to be getting along. The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, until he finally waves me off.
“You’ve said your piece. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
I hesitate, the words lodged in my throat. Finally, I let them spill out. “I know your father keeps a watch over our properties, so I wanted to let you know I’ve given Luna one of the apartments on Abbey’s Creek.”
His eyes flicker with amusement, and the corner of his mouth quirks up again. That damn smirk. “They are nice apartments,” he says, his tone deceptively casual.
I nod, refusing to rise to the bait.
“Does she know you’re her landlord?” he asks, leaning forward slightly, his sneer cutting through me like a blade.
“No. It’s best if we keep it between us.”
Jack hums, clearly unimpressed, and leans back again, his gaze drifting to the papers on his desk. “You should tell my father. It’s not my area.” He looks up briefly, just long enough to twist the knife. “I’m over the clubs.”
I stiffen, my stomach twisting. “I was hoping you could tell him for me.”
His expression doesn’t change, but the dismissiveness in his voice is unmistakable. “Sorry, but I’m all out of charity right now.” He waves me off again, not even bothering to look up. “Close the door on your way out.”
I turn on my heel, biting down on the string of curses that are fighting to escape. The man might be powerful, but he’s a bastard through and through. The door clicks shut behind me, and I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. Now, I have no choice but to speak to Liam, Jack’s father. The thought makes my skin crawl. Liam doesn’t just trade in power—he collects debts like trophies. Giving Luna that apartment will come at a cost if Liam gets involved, and I’ll be the one paying it.
Checking my watch, I realize it’s nearly lunchtime. Luna will be at the café—same place, same time, like clockwork. I need to see her. Maybe I still have time.
Sliding into my car parked outside the club, I grip the wheel tighter than I should, my mind racing.
Fuck.
I honestly had thought if I thanked Jack for his help he might just agree to tell his father. I’m sure Liam wouldn’t expect anything in return from his son, but I’m not his son.
I pick up the phone, and for the first time, I pray he doesn’t answer.
“Cian.” Liam’s one word makes me clench the phone tighter.
“Hi, Liam. I know you're busy, so I won’t keep you long.” I start.
“I always have time for my nephew.” Liam’s drawl is already calculating.
“I’ve set Luna up in one of the apartments on Abbey’s Creek. I spoke to Jack about it and said I’d give you a ring.”
“That was wise,” he answers.
I’m not sure if that’s about giving Luna an apartment or calling him about it.
Liam doesn’t expand on what was wise but continues to speak.
“She will have the apartment for as long as she needs.” He finishes.
“Thank you.” I’m ready to end the call, but Liam isn’t.
“I normally wouldn’t be so quick to hand over one of our luxury apartments, but for you, Cian, I will write this off.”
My free hand tightens on the steering wheel. “Thanks,” I mumble.
“I’m sure there will be a way you can repay me.”
I knew it; nothing came free with Liam. “Anytime, Liam.” I finish.
“Great.” He finishes, and the line goes dead. He will call me up on that favor, but it’s not today. Today, I get to see Luna.
The small café is a stark contrast to Jack’s office—bright, warm, and alive with the soft hum of conversation. I spot Luna immediately, sitting alone at a corner table. She’s poking at her salad, lost in thought, her hair falling in soft waves around her face. It’s been three weeks since the attack, and she wanted a fresh start, her own place, so that’s why I got her one. I just haven’t shared with her that I’m her landlord. Not having her under my roof doesn’t mean I’ve let her out of my sight. My men have been watching her, keeping her safe. She doesn’t know, and she doesn’t need to.
I slide into the seat beside her without warning. She startles, her fork clattering against her plate, but when she sees me, her expression softens into something unreadable.
“Cian,” she says, her voice tentative. “What are you doing here?”
I lean back in the chair, watching her closely. She looks better—healthier, stronger—but there’s still a shadow in her eyes that wasn’t there before.
“I was in the area and spotted you through the window,” I say simply.
She tilts her head; humor lights up her hazel eyes. “So, you were just in the area?”
I meet her gaze, holding it. “Yes. How are you settling in?”
She picksup her fork and loads it with greens but doesn’t pop the food into her mouth. “I love my apartment; thank you so much again for helping me find it.”
I wave off her praise. “Is there anything else you need?”
“How about telling the men who are always following me to leave me alone? I assume they are yours since they only watch me.”
I can’t stop the soft laugh. “I’m just keeping ….”
She cuts me off. “Safe. I know.” She reaches across the table and places her hand on me. “I know, Cian. That’s why I had to leave. I can’t be your responsibility. You have done more for me than anyone in my life.”
“You deserve it and so much more,” I say and mean it.
Her cheeks heat up.
“I have something to tell you,” she says, her eyes light up.
“I took the job at the nursing home.”
“That’s great news.” I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.
“So, I’ll see you every Thursday then?” She pops the food into her mouth.
I can’t look away from her lips. “I’m available every day of the week.”
She covers her mouth as she laughs softly. I give her a moment to chew and swallow her food.
A waitress arrives, an interference I could do without. “A coffee, please,” I say before she even asks so she will fuck off. She nods and runs along.
“You are always welcome.” Luna finally says.
“How about tonight?” I can’t look away from her lips.
“I’m free. But, my friend Becca might be staying with me for a while.”
I nod. “Will she be there tonight?” I pause as the waitress places the coffee in front of me.
“Would you like a refill?” she asks Luna.
Luna places her hand over her mug. “No, thank you.”
“I actually think she is working,” Luna says, and her cheeks deepen in color.
“I shall see you tonight then.” I rise and place a kiss on her forehead before going to the counter.
“I’ll pay for table four.”
The teller rings up Luna’s food, and I pay. On the way out, I know Luna is watching me leave, and when I glance over my shoulder, she gives me one of her rare smiles. That’s what I want to spend the rest of my life doing, making her smile.