Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
RONAN
My phone buzzes, and the name lighting up the screen makes my stomach twist.
Cormac.
It’s been a few days since I told him to keep an eye on Callum, which means he likely has an update for me, and I have a feeling it isn’t good.
“What is it?”
“Are you free to meet? Just us.”
There’s something in his tone that instantly puts me on edge.
Out of all of my brothers, he’s the most serious, but there’s something else.
There’s something clipped about his words that has my spine straightening.
Not only that, but the fact that Brennan won’t be joining us when I specifically told him to help Cormac look into Callum adds to my unease.
What the hell has he found?
“Where?”
“The Hollow Man.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
I find my brother sitting in the exact same booth as the last time we met here, an untouched pint of Guinness in front of him.
His overall posture is casual as he leans back against the black leather, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to the elbows, but I can read his true mood in an instant.
From the tight set of his jaw and his downcast gaze as he drums his fingers on the table, as well as the deep crease forming between his eyebrows, something is clearly eating away at him.
Shit. This can’t be good.
“What’s going on?” I slide into the seat opposite him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes still fixed on his pint.
“Tell you what?”
His gaze finally lifts to meet mine, and I see the flash of hurt behind his eyes. “About the clause in Da’s will. You know, the one where we lose control of the entire fucking empire if I don’t move back to the city permanently.”
My jaw clenches as I stare at him.
I guess now I understand why Brennan isn’t joining us.
“Who told you that?” I keep my voice low. “Was it Lorcan?”
“Does it matter?”
“Answer the question.”
Cormac shakes his head as he lets out a breath. “No, it wasn’t Lorcan. Angus told me.”
“Angus? As in Angus O’Malley?”
Cormac nods, and I curse under my breath.
How the hell did Angus find out about the clause in my father’s will?
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth at the funeral?” Cormac presses.
I run a hand over my face as I exhale slowly. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you to come back. I wanted you to have a choice.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “There is no choice, Ronan. If I don’t come back, we lose everything.”
“I can find a way out of this if needed. I know what you have waiting for you back home.”
He rakes a hand through his hair. “I’ve built a new life for myself away from all this, and now…”
He doesn’t need to finish the sentence.
“I wasn’t trying to screw you over. I just didn’t want you to feel trapped.”
“We’re all trapped, Ronan.” He finally takes a long drink from his pint, then sets the glass down harder than he needs to, causing the dark liquid to spill down the side and onto the table.
“There’s something else.” His voice is barely audible over the low hum of the pub. “I went looking through Da’s phone.”
That gets my attention. “I didn’t realize I gave you access to that.”
Cormac narrows his eyes at me. “I might not have been around the last few years, but he was still my father too, Ronan. I have a right to look into his death.”
That shuts me up, so I wave a hand at him to continue.
“Anyway, I figured maybe there was something in there we missed, but it was completely wiped clean. No texts, calls, notes… Literally nothing.”
My spine stiffens. “You’re sure?”
“I had a friend of mine run some recovery software on it, and he managed to get most of the metadata back.”
“And?”
Cormac reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, quickly unlocking it and tapping on the screen a few times before sliding it across the table. “The only thing of note was six separate calls in the last few weeks before his death, all to one particular number.”
I stare at the screen in complete disbelief as I read the name linked to each of the six phone calls.
My pulse quickens as I read the name three more times. “Callum?”
“Yeah. The lengths of the calls vary, anywhere from five to thirty minutes.”
“Which indicates they weren’t pocket dials.”
“Exactly.”
I slide the phone back across the table and lean back against the booth, my mind racing.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Da didn’t have any dealings with the McCarthys, especially not Callum.”
Cormac shrugs. “Apparently, he did, and whatever it was about, he clearly didn’t want anyone knowing.”
What the hell was he hiding?
“Don’t say anything to the others yet,” I say firmly. “Not until I figure this out.”
Cormac nods, but something like doubt flashes in his eyes as he looks at me.
“What?”
He hesitates for a second before leaning forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Do you think Ciara knows about this?”
I grind my teeth as I consider the reality that my wife could have been involved in my father’s death. “I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.”
Cormac exhales slowly as he takes his phone and pockets it. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“No.” I smile without humor. “But I’ll handle it.”
As we leave the pub and head outside into the crisp autumn air, I turn to face Cormac. “Remember, not a word of this to Brennan or Kieran.”
He dips his chin at me, and I give him a slap on the shoulder before reaching into my pocket for my keys.
“Ronan?” he calls as I open up the driver's side door.
“Yeah?”
“You might want to stop lying to yourself about her.”
I stare at my brother. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Cormac tucks his hands into his pockets. “It’s written all over your face, brother.”
Fuck. Am I really that obvious?
He waves. “Give me a call if you find out anything.”
It’s all I can do to nod before sliding behind the wheel of my Mercedes, my thoughts completely hijacked by Ciara.
Driving back through the city toward Washington Heights with my hands tight on the wheel, my mind is painfully loud, playing my brother’s words on repeat.
First, Kieran’s comment about me not treating Ciara right, and now this?
The marriage was meant to be nothing more than a business deal, but somewhere along the line, feelings have developed, and that scares the shit out of me. So, of course, I’ve kept her at arm’s length, because that’s a hell of a lot easier than letting her in.
But I know Ciara, and she won’t put up with my hot and cold attitude for much longer. She’ll walk away, consequences be damned.
From a purely business perspective, I need to tread carefully because if Ciara does decide to walk, it will create one hell of a headache for me, which isn’t something I need right now.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to try and keep her happy…
Before I can second guess myself, I pull out my phone and make a call.
“Didn’t expect to hear from you today,” Liam answers, amusement threading through his voice.
Liam has worked for my family for years. He lives in Vegas and mostly takes care of our casino-related operations on the West Coast. His access to high-powered clients has come in handy over the years, but that’s not why I’m calling him today.
“I need a suite in Vegas. Something romantic and private.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I pull my phone away from my ear to check he hasn’t ended the call.
“Liam?”
“Sorry, did you say romantic?”
“You heard me.”
“Okay, now I know you’re sick.” He chuckles.
“And make a reservation at La Rosetta.”
“Date night?”
“Something like that.”
A getaway might help in keeping Ciara sweet, but it also doesn’t hurt that I need to have a word with a certain someone who also resides in Sin City.
Liam laughs. “What a lucky lady.”
“Also, I need you to get word to Angus O’Malley. Tell him I want to meet.”
“Ah, there it is… Figured there would be more to this trip than just trying to get laid.”
“I don’t need to try,” I grunt.
“Of course not, because your shining personality does all the work for you.”
“Remind me why I keep you on the books?”
Liam chuckles again, and I force myself to take a steadying breath.
“Just send me the confirmation when it’s done.”
“Will do.”
By the time I get home, the sky is starting to turn to dusk, casting the house in a warm orange glow. I don’t bother parking the car in the garage because I’ll be heading straight back out in less than an hour, only this time with Ciara in tow.
As I enter the house, soft footsteps move about upstairs, and I fight a smile.
“Ciara?”
The footsteps pause, and Ciara appears on the landing, her blonde hair slightly windswept and her face flushed and sweaty.
My mind descends to the gutter because she looks exactly how she does right after she climaxes. If she wasn’t wearing running gear, I’d have guessed she just finished having some alone time, perhaps with the wedding present I got for her.
I clear my throat as my cock starts to harden thinking of her getting herself off. It’s been close to a week since we last fucked, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about dragging her out of her bed and into mine where she belongs, every night since.
The thought of stroking myself while watching Ciara get herself off is almost too much to bear, but right now we don’t have time to fulfill such a fantasy. We have a flight to catch.
“Hey,” she says a little too cautiously before crossing to the stairs. “Everything okay?”
I grind my teeth as I fight the urge to adjust myself, hoping she can’t see how painfully hard I am from where she is. “I need you to pack a bag.”
She pauses halfway down the stairs, her eyebrows pulling together in a frown as she stares at me. “Why?”
I should be insulted by the wall she’s instantly put up, but it’s my own damn fault for being such an ass. “We’re going away for the weekend.”
She blinks. “Where?”
“Vegas.”
She narrows her eyes at me as she crosses her arms. “Is this your way of saying that you plan on burying me in the desert?”
I can’t help but chuckle under my breath. “Not this time.”
“So, if you’re not planning on murdering me, then why are we going to Vegas?”
“Because I owe you. And because I’ve been a bit of an ass. Besides, you said you’ve never been to Vegas.”
“A bit of an ass?”
I roll my eyes as I stuff my hands into my pockets. “I was rounding down.”
“You’re being serious.”
“That shouldn’t come as a surprise, Tine Bhaeg.”
She narrows her eyes at me before uncrossing her arms and placing her hands on her hips, drawing my attention to the fact that she’s wearing the shortest pair of running shorts I’ve ever seen.
Fucking hell, I swear she does this on purpose.
“All right.”
“All right?” My lips twitch.
“I’ll go, but I’m not packing heels unless I know we’re hitting a fancy restaurant or a casino.”
“We’ll be going to both. Just be ready in an hour, otherwise we’ll miss our flight.”
I don’t miss the slight flash of excitement in her eyes before she turns and heads back upstairs, giving me the perfect view of her shapely ass and thighs. This time I don’t stop myself from palming my cock over my pants as I watch her walk away.