Chapter 6 Declan
Declan
Conal strolled into my office and dropped onto the worn Chesterfield sofa. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, clearly exhausted after his impromptu trip to Europe and back. Not that I gave a fuck.
"Any problems I need to be aware of?"
I watched as his shoulders tensed. Hmm. Had Ronan deviated from the plan?
"When we found Verity, some fucker was beating on her. Ronan took care of him, but there might be blowback."
All I heard was the 'beating on her'. The Mont Blanc fountain pen in my hand snapped in half, spilling ink all over my hand. I silently cursed.
"Is he dead?"
"No, but he'll likely need plastic surgery to repair his face."
The fact Ronan had held back came as a surprise. I wouldn't have shown the man the same restraint. Any man who laid a finger on the women in my life deserved to die a painful death.
"I'm not seeing the problem here," I admitted, wiping my hand with a tissue and tossing the ruined pen in the trash can beneath my desk.
"He's the mayor's son, apparently, so his injuries might attract scrutiny. Ronan threatened to finish the job if he talked, but I'm not sure the threat will be enough."
I waved my hand dismissively. The mayor’s son wasn't my focus right now.
"Is she OK?" The thought of some fuck hurting sweet Verity made my blood boil. Thea’s sister didn't deserve to experience a single second of pain. Not after the fucked-up childhood she'd endured.
"Bruised and pissed off, but she'll be fine in a few days."
"Saoirse came home late last night so the girls can keep each other company until she returns to college. Aoife will be back at the weekend, too. For the annual summer party."
Conal groaned. "Fuck, I'd forgotten about that. Fucking Maeve will expect an invitation."
I smiled. "Yeah. Have fun, bro."
"I'd rather stick my dick in a blender than spend any more time in that woman's company."
"I hope you're not dissing Maeve," Ronan scoffed from the doorway, a huge mug of coffee in his hand. "That girl's a peach."
"I'm allergic to peaches."
"My point exactly." The asshole sniggered before sobering and glancing in my direction. "Did he tell you about the bastard who hurt our pixie girl?"
I nodded. "He says you rearranged his face but didn't kill him?"
"Yeah. I should have, though. I won't hold back next time. Not after the way he hurt her. Fucking cunt."
He'd need to get in line.
"I let Thea know Verity is safe and I've asked our contacts in Italy to keep their ears to the ground in case Francesco pops up. Thea says the authorities are trying to recall him to prison, but the fact he ended up released at all suggests corruption somewhere down the line."
"I agree. The whole thing stinks." Ronan pushed away from the wall and dropped onto my sofa.
"Least she's safe here. There's no way her father will come after her while she's with us."
He'd be insane to even try, although a small part of me hoped he did, so I had an excuse to put a bullet in his brain.
"Thea wants me to send Verity back to the US." It was the safest place for her.
"And you think she'll go?" Ronan seemed disgruntled by the idea, which confused me.
"I assume so. I can't see her wanting to hang around here once Saoirse heads back to college."
"She'll be safer with us," Ronan insisted, his jaw set.
Conal turned to stare at his twin. "Seriously? Kyril is even more fucked in the head than you."
Ronan leaned back and smirked. "Nah. He's soft now he's a daddy. Lost his edge. I reckon I'd beat him hands down if we fought in the ring."
"Yeah… good luck with that, you fucking lunatic. Not a fucking chance!"
The two of them launched into a heated discussion about who would win a fight if they challenged the Russian. I ignored them. Neither of them would win against Kyril, one of Thea's husbands. He might have two kids occupying his time, but he definitely hadn't lost his edge.
If anything, the bastard was even meaner and more psychotic. Eden had told me Kyril had threatened a boy who called their eldest kid a pampered princess. The poor lad had shit himself.
Kudos to Kyril for that. I'd have done the same. Had done the same when my sisters were younger. At least until Aoife took up kickboxing and beat the shit out of anyone who so much as looked at them wrong.
My lips curled up in amusement before my smile dropped away. I bet Verity hadn't been practicing her self-defense since she'd been overseas. It was time for a refresher course.
"Once Verity’s recovered, get her back in the gym. Make sure she hasn't forgotten all the moves Dario and Kyril taught her."
Ronan nodded in agreement. "Good idea." Then he smirked. "I'm the man for the job. I have alllll the moves."
"She doesn't need to know your moves, bro," Conal snapped. "Show some fucking respect."
Ronan laughed before taunting his brother some more.
"Enough!" My voice cut through their bickering. "Ronan, I need you to visit the Lotus Lounge tonight. Finn Murphy has been dealing pills and causing shit again. Put him in his place and deliver a final warning. Any more bullshit and he's a dead man. Got it?"
Ronan nodded, his head finally back in the game.
"Conal, talk to the security team and bring them up to speed, yeah?"
"Sure."
"Now fuck off the pair of you. I need to call Bridget."
"Is she back from New York?" Ronan's question seemed innocent enough. But from the gleeful look in his eye, he couldn't wait for me to dump her ass.
"Yeah." Three days early, unfortunately.
I had hoped her trip would extend over the weekend, thus preventing her from attending the party.
But nope. She'd made it her mission to wrap up the shoot in time to fly back.
Her plane landed this morning. I fully expected her to show up any minute now, which was why I wanted to ring her and let her know I was 'busy' in meetings for the rest of the day.
My brothers exchanged grins and then left me to make the call.