Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
RONAN
I grip the steering wheel hard enough to turn my knuckles white as I tear down the driveway, my anger clouding me as I push the gas pedal to the floor.
I should have apologized for snapping at Ciara the moment the words left my mouth, but of course, I didn’t.
She should know by now that apologies don’t come easy to me.
Besides, I’m too focused on the fact that she might be right about the fact my father most likely had been hiding something that led to his death, and that thought pisses me off more than anything.
I don’t want her to be right.
I want these payments to be nothing more than just that, payments made by a paranoid old bastard who liked hiding things for the sake of hiding them.
But the fact the transactions are encrypted makes me think it’s not just my father being paranoid.
They’re intentional and way too specific to not cause suspicion.
It’s crystal fucking clear that he went to a lot of effort to make sure they were buried deep enough so no one would find them.
Not even me, and that’s the part I can’t get past.
Seamus didn’t hide things from his family, especially not like this. At least, I didn’t think he did. But maybe I didn’t know my father as well as I thought I did. Maybe these encrypted payments are only scratching the surface of the secrets my father took with him to the grave.
I tap the screen on the dash and call Tommy, my private investigator.
I hate that I’m even considering asking him to look into my father but at this point, I have no other choice.
If he was wrapped up in some tangled web that landed him with a bullet in his skull, I sure as hell need to know about it.
Tommy answers on the second ring, his strong Irish accent instantly filling the car. “Got somethin’ for me, Sullivan?”
“I need you to look into my father. Specifically, the weeks leading up to his death.”
“Do ye have anythin’ specific ye’re lookin’ for?”
“I need you to look at everything. Where he went, who he met with. If anything looks suspicious, I want to know about it.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line.
“Ye think his death was more than what it looked like?”
“I think he was hiding something. And I think someone killed him because of it.”
“All right. Ye’ll hear from me tomorrow.”
I hang up the call without another word.
My stomach churns with a mixture of guilt and doubt for not questioning my father sooner. Perhaps if I had, he would still be alive.
By the time I pull up outside The Hollow Man, my jaw aches from clenching it so hard.
From the messages that came through on my dash, all three of my brothers are already inside, waiting for me, which only adds to my darkening mood.
Right now, I don’t have the energy to be the buffer between Cormac and Kieran. Not when our entire empire could potentially be on the verge of collapse.
I park my Mercedes out front and kill the engine, taking one last deep breath before stepping out into the cold, city air.
The Hollow Man is an old Irish pub tucked between a boarded-up deli and a pawn shop in Hell’s Kitchen. The smoked windows are impossible to see through, and there is nothing but an old brass plaque on the door with the name of the place etched in cursive.
It’s the last place anyone would expect me to visit, which is exactly why I asked my brothers to meet me here. I don’t like to be predictable in my movements because you never know who’s watching.
The interior of the pub is dim and narrow, and I have to duck my head as I enter.
The low hum of conversation fills the air, as well as the clink of pint glasses.
The walls are lined with old bookcases, some of which cover up passageways into the abandoned deli next door, as well as a basement room below.
I stalk past the bar toward the row of booths at the back of the pub, where I find my brothers waiting, all of them wearing identical grim expressions.
Fucking great.
Brennan raises a hand as I approach the table.
“About time.” He forces a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
I signal to the bartender to bring me a drink before sliding into the booth beside Kieran.
“I had to take care of something.”
Kieran smirks as he runs a calloused finger around the rim of his rocks glass. “Let me guess, trouble at home?”
“Something like that.”
They don’t press, so I force the conversation onto business, needing to distract myself from thoughts of my father as well as my wife. Kieran fills me in on our new shipment routes as a result of some shit that went down at the docks.
“People have been sniffing around. Thought it best to switch things up, just in case.”
I nod before taking a sip of my own drink.
“Any idea who it is?” Brennan asks.
“Nothing concrete, but I have a feeling it’s the McKennons.” He scoffs. “Fucking snakes, sniffing around our territory.”
I let my brothers do most of the talking, adding suggestions only when my silence is starting to draw attention.
I should tell them about the encrypted payments, but my gut is telling me to keep them to myself until I know for sure what I’m dealing with. But that doesn’t mean that the weight of the secrets I’m keeping isn’t starting to take its toll.
My silence hasn’t gone unnoticed as I suddenly blink, not even realizing I’ve been staring at my glass, to find all of my brothers’ eyes on me.
“How are things with Ciara?” Brennan glances at me over his pint of Guinness.
I tense, thinking of the way she flinched when I insulted her father to her face, again.
“It’s not Ciara that’s the issue.” I run a hand over my jaw. “It’s her brother.”
“You’re only realizing this now?” Kieran snickers.
“He thinks he’s entitled to more.”
Brennan scoffs. “You better be joking.”
“He keeps asking what our plan is to restore his family name.”
“I’d be more than happy to show him our plan.” Kieran smirks as he taps his jacket pocket where I know his gun is hidden.
“Easy.” I hold up a hand.
Cormac frowns. “Do you think Callum is planning something?”
He’s been quieter than usual during this meeting, but I’m not surprised.
After all, he’s been away from the business for years, and a lot of things have changed in that time.
But if we have any chance of holding on to our empire, he needs to start familiarizing himself with our affairs as soon as possible.
I nod. “I’d bet money on it. I’m half-expecting him to make a move.”
Kieran shakes his head. “He’d be a fucking idiot if he did.”
“I agree, but the man is desperate. We need to prepare for all outcomes.” I turn my attention to Cormac. “I want you to keep an eye on him to see what he does over the next few days. Where he goes, who he talks to.”
Cormac dips his chin, a stray curl falling in front of his eyes. “You got it.”
Kieran scoffs. “You sure Cormac can handle that without getting twitchy and vanishing again?”
Cormac stiffens, his jaw clenching as he glares at Kieran.
I shoot Kieran a warning look, but he only grins at Cormac.
Brennan sighs, rubbing his temple. “Jesus, Kieran, don’t start.”
“I’m just saying, maybe the guy who ran off for two years shouldn’t be tasked with keeping an eye on Callum.”
Cormac looks like he wants to throw his glass at Kieran’s head, so I cut in before it comes to that.
“Enough. Brennan, go with Cormac.”
My youngest brother looks as if he’s about to protest, but he catches the look on my face and nods. The two of them get to their feet and head out of the pub, leaving me alone with Kieran.
Immediately, the air shifts between us, and the last of my patience grows thin.
I take a sip of whiskey, grimacing as it burns the back of my throat, before setting my glass down on the sticky table.
Kieran shifts beside me, no doubt uncomfortable with the silence, but I don’t care.
“You need to cut Cormac some slack.”
Kieran snorts as he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Don’t start.”
“I’m serious. We’ve all made mistakes—”
“Yeah, but some of us didn’t walk out on the family.”
I do my best not to react as I hold my brother’s gaze. “You don’t know what he went through.”
“And you do?”
I hesitate, but that’s all the answer he needs.
“You know more than you’re telling us.”
“It’s not my story to share.” I lift my glass to my lips and down the remaining whiskey.
“That’s bullshit.” Kieran slams a fist on the table, which rattles all of the glasses. “You’re the one in charge, Ronan. If Cormac is a liability, then don’t you think Brennan and I have a right to know?”
“He’s not a liability.”
“Are you sure about that? Because I’m starting to think you’ve got blind spots where family is concerned.”
I ball my hands into fists beneath the table.
Kieran has always known how to push my buttons, ever since we were kids, but before I can tell him where he can shove his nose, he lands an even harder blow.
“I mean, you want to lecture me about family, and yet you can’t even keep your wife happy. Everyone sees it, Ronan. She’d rather be anywhere else than locked up in that house with you.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I go deathly still as I glare at Kieran, but he only shrugs, as if he’s completely unaware of how close he is to losing consciousness.
“Just calling it like I see it.”
“Maybe you should focus on your own goddamn life instead of mine.”
I expect a snide remark in return, but instead, he simply picks up his whiskey and downs the rest of it before slamming the glass down on the table.
“Always a pleasure catching up with you, brother.” He gets to his feet and walks out of the pub without another word.
I sit there for a moment, trying to keep a lid on my temper. It’s a good thing the table is bolted to the floor, otherwise, I would have flipped it already.
I knew assigning Cormac to keep an eye on Callum would hit a nerve with Kieran, but a small part of me hoped he’d put his opinions of our brother aside in favor of the bigger picture. I should have known better than to think Kieran would take the high ground.
I wave a hand to the bartender to bring another drink, and as I wait for it to arrive, Kieran’s words about my wife echo in my mind.
He’s not wrong.
Ciara’s been keeping her distance ever since the night I stormed into my room and yelled at her.
We might have called a truce, but that’s not enough to erase how I treated her.
Add in my behavior today, and I’ll likely never have Ciara in my bed again, which hurts more than I care to admit, and not just because I enjoy fucking her.
“Fuck.” I run my fingers through my hair.
There’s no denying that Ciara gets under my skin.
Hell, I can barely stand to be in the same room with her without wanting to tear her clothes off and bury my face in her delicious pussy.
Her beautiful smile and hopeful eyes make me think about things I have no business thinking about, like the future, our future.
She makes me consider walking away from this life and building an entirely new one with her, which is exactly why I need to bury myself in work and focus on stopping my father’s empire from crumbling.
The Sullivan legacy doesn’t allow for softness or distractions, and Ciara is both of those things.
So, I need to keep her at arm’s length, for her sake as much as mine, because the moment I start giving in to my feelings for her, I’ll want to put her first. And in our world, that equals a bright red target on her back, and I’m sure as hell not going to let that happen.