Quinn
I hear the door of the library open but I pretend I don't. I already know who it is, who it always is.
No one else knows that I come here other than Caden.
My brother knows me better than anyone else.
Then again, he's the only one that bothered to actually get to know me.
The others all like to pretend that I don't exist.
It takes Caden two minutes to find me. As usual I'm curled into the window seat in the library with a cup of tea.
I had to escape the madness and coming to the top floor of the house is the perfect hiding spot.
I don't know what's happened but the tension in the air this morning was unbearable.
I haven't seen my da angry like this in a very long time.
I didn't want to be on the receiving end of him losing his mind, so I've hidden away in the library.
Mamie, our housekeeper, has been bringing me cups of tea for the past three hours.
She too has been hiding the best she can.
Everyone in the house can feel the tension.
Something's coming, we can all feel it. Even Mamie can, and that woman rarely speaks out of turn.
Caden's footsteps grow closer until they stop. I feel his eyes on me and take a deep breath, close my book and look up at him. He's standing against a bookshelf watching me, his expression unreadable, which I hate. If I can't read his face how on earth am I supposed to brace for impact?
"Da wants you," he says, his gaze softens as he watches me.
"Me?" I question, not used to being summoned by our da, usually it's our mam that calls for me.
"Yeah."
I wait for more, but he doesn't say anything else.
He just stands there with an expectant look that tells me to get my ass up and go to da.
I place the book down on the table and rise to my feet, giving a longing look at the cup of tea that lies almost untouched beside my book and follow Caden out of the library.
The air in the house is stifling. I can breathe, but it feels thick, and I know it’s because of whatever is going on.
Da’s on the warpath and whatever the hell has happened, it isn’t good, and now I’m being summoned.
That has never happened before and I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to brace for.
I’ve grown up in this house, I’ve learned every tell that everyone has.
I know that when my Da’s jaw clenches, it means that he’s trying to reign in his anger.
When his eyes narrow sightly he’ll be reaching for his gun with his next breath.
I know that Mam wrings her hands together when she’s worried.
She runs her hands over her clothes to smooth them out when she’s trying to impress, and she’ll purse her lips when she’s angry.
Dáithí, my eldest brother, he strums his fingers on his thigh when he’s about to kill someone. Even the staff have tells.
Growing up as the unseen Delaney child, I’ve learned too damn much about hiding away.
The staff are quieter than usual. They carry out their usual tasks but their heads are down and their movements are hurried. They’re trying to get things done without being noticed more than normal.
I keep my head held high as I walk slowly toward the main room. There’s no point rushing. Whatever it is that has happened, already has, and there’s nothing that I can do to change that. I just wish I knew what the hell is going on.
I’m used to being in the dark. Hell, I love the fact that I’m away from the drama and the death that comes with being a Delaney.
But this feels different. The feeling I have in the pit of my stomach grows stronger with every step I take toward my da.
Whatever’s happened is going to have major repercussions.
I wasn’t called in even when the Harringtons went on a crazy killing spree. I wasn’t told what was happening.
“You needn’t worry yourself, Quinn. This doesn’t concern you,” my da told me after I saw on the news just how many people Trace Harrington had killed.
The Harrington family had gone to war with the Syndicate. What started as a grab for power ended with bodies piling up across Boston, then the East coast, and across the world. Bosses, soldiers, wives, even family members became targets. Nobody was safe.
I learned most of what happened from Caden. He gave me as much information as he could.
My Da’s extremely powerful and his connections and allies are growing with each passing day.
Being a leading member of the Boston Elite Syndicate means my da has more power than what should be granted.
He’s also the head of the Delaney Clann, or the Irish Mafia, depending on who you are and what respect you have for my da.
The Clann is for family and close friends.
The Irish Mafia is for those in the business who have respect for him and his title.
My father is that Irish bastard to those disrespectful bastards that have no respect for anyone and have a death wish.
My mam is the typical mafia wife. She thrives on being married to Ronan Delaney and makes sure everyone knows she's the wife of the boss. The truth is, my mam had five children and only actually gives a shit about one of us.
Dáire.
My sister is six years older than me and the second-born child in the family, coming after Dáithí. Mam has doted on her for as long as I can remember. No one else compares to Dáire in Bridget Delaney's eyes.
That's one of the many reasons Caden and I are closer than the rest. He's only two years older than me and, growing up, we were largely left to our own devices while our parents focused their attention elsewhere.
Dáire is the definition of a mafia princess. Doted on by our parents, she gets whatever she wants. She's respected by Da's men because she's Ronan Delaney's precious daughter. Only Daithí is respected more than she is.
I've no idea why she hates me. There's a six-year age gap between us and I've never done anything to her except exist.
Dáithí, the oldest of us all, is next in line to take over from our da one day. He's as vicious as Ronan when he needs to be, but he's always had a soft spot for me. Thankfully, he doesn't ignore me the way Mam, Da, Dáire, and sometimes Conn do.
Conn came after Dáire and before Caden. He's always been more interested in earning our father's approval than anything else. Fortunately, he's rarely home. When he is, he's usually buried in meetings with Da and Dáithí, learning the business he'll never inherit.
I hear voices before I reach the door, my hand trembles slightly as I touch the handle, the voices are deep and filled with anger. I hear my da’s deep baritone voice, but can’t make out the words, just the tone, and right now? It’s filled with a rage I’ve never heard before.
Just as I’m about to turn the handle, I hear her name.
Dáire.
I stand very still, unable to comprehend the words that follow her name.
Dáire’s pregnant? But not by Lorenzo Mariano, her fiancé, but to Rurik Morozov?
My heart hammers in my chest. What the hell was she thinking?
Does she not know what the hell is going to happen now that she’s broken the agreement with the Mariano family?
God, she’s going to be killed.
I close my eyes for half a second, take a breath, and then push the door open.
The sitting room is one of the more formal rooms in the house. Dark wood panelling covers the walls, family photographs and oil paintings hanging between built-in bookshelves. A fire crackles in the stone fireplace despite the mild weather outside.
My da looks up when I enter. He's standing near the fireplace, arms crossed over his broad chest, his grey hair neatly combed back. His jaw is set, his blue eyes hard enough to cut glass.
To his right stands Tony Geraghty, my da's right-hand man and best friend. Tony is built much like Da, broad and imposing, though age has added a little softness around his middle. His dark hair is streaked heavily with grey now, his expression unreadable as he watches me.
My brothers aren't here. Caden left me in the hallway and vanished. I also note that my mam's not here. Just my father, Tony, and now me.
I look back at Da and see how tired he looks. The lines around his eyes seem deeper than usual. I understand now why everyone is on edge. Dáire's fucked up, huge, and now my da has to fix her mess.
"Close the door," he says tightly.
I do as he says but don't move any further into the room.
"Sit down, Quinn," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please."
The word surprises me. I move toward the cream sofa positioned opposite the fireplace and sink into the soft cushions. Keeping my head high, I look back at my da and wait.
This is the first time I can remember him saying please to me. I wait for him to speak, but he hesitates. I've never seen my da hesitate before.
"Your sister," he starts, then pauses, seemingly unable to finish his sentence.
“She’s pregnant,” I say for him. “I heard you before I entered the room.”
His eyes narrow slightly, deepening the lines of his face, but he nods. "Yes."
“But the baby isn’t Lorenzo's."
His jaw clenches and the blue in his eyes brightens with the rage he’s feeling before he quickly masks it.
"No, that honor goes to Rurik Morozov. It's been going on for a while. Since before the engagement to Lorenzo was announced.”
I let the information sink in. Since before the engagement.
Which means that while the Syndicate was sitting around a table arranging her future, while my father and Cesare Mariano were agreeing to terms, while Lorenzo Mariano was accepting a marriage he didn't choose, Dáire was already defying our da and the agreement that they were making.
And no one knew. Well obviously someone knew. Dáire has guards, men that my da trusts to protect her, they had to have known. The question is, did they tell my da or did they keep it secret? If they did, it could mean the end of their lives for doing so.