Chapter Two
KIERAN
I drop heavily into the chair at Ronan’s desk, the old wood creaking under the impact. My head pounds, and my chest aches, and none of it is easing because the same thought keeps circling like a vulture.
Why, Cormac?
I knew he was hiding something. I’ve known about it for months.
Hell, the moment he came back into our lives after years of being gone, part of me was waiting for him to stab a knife in each of our backs.
And yet, I let Ronan talk me down. I let him smooth it over with his words about family and second chances.
Now Cormac is gone.
Why the fuck didn’t I stand my ground? Maybe if I’d forced Ronan to take my concerns seriously, we wouldn’t be in this mess, and I could have caught him before he had the chance to vanish.
I slam my fist against the desk just as Ronan appears.
“I’d rather you didn’t take your anger out on our father’s antique desk.”
“We need to talk.” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to be.
Ronan closes the door behind him. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”
Leaning forward, I brace my elbows on the desk. “Then talk.”
“What do you want me to say, Kieran?”
“I want you to tell me what the fuck it is that you’ve been keeping for Cormac.”
Ronan’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t answer.
“Jesus Christ, Ronan. How the hell am I supposed to step up and act as the head of this family when it’s clear you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth?”
“It’s not about trust.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit.” I push back from the desk and rise to my feet, the chair scraping across the floor. “It is about trust. If you’re covering for him—”
“I’m not.”
“The hell you aren’t. You keep making excuses every time I dare to question him, so stop telling me it’s not what it looks like because, guess what, Ronan?
It looks fucking bad. If Cormac is screwing us over, then he’s going down.
It’s as simple as that. So, it’s up to you whether you want to go down with him. ”
Ronan’s expression hardens as he takes a step toward me. “Watch your tone. I’m still the head of this family.”
“I seem to recall you handing that title over to me.”
“Clearly, I made the wrong call. I thought you had outgrown your hotheadedness.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child. Save that for your own kids. Do you think I like the fact that Cormac is behind all of this?”
“Honestly, yes. You’ve had it in for Cormac ever since he came back—”
“For good reason!”
“Cormac is family, and you don’t turn your back on your family.”
The words snap something inside me. “Even when they’re trying to screw you over?” I growl, my throat raw. “Even when they’re lining their pockets while the rest of us are bleeding to keep this empire standing?”
Ronan glares at me, but he doesn’t respond, though his silence is answer enough.
I rake a hand through my hair as I take a look around the office that once belonged to our father.
“You keep saying it’s not about trust, so what is it?” I perch on the edge of the desk. “What am I supposed to think? Because from where I’m standing, the only thing you’re showing me is that Cormac’s secrets matter more than my loyalty.”
Ronan exhales heavily as he sinks down into one of the armchairs. The exhaustion is written all over his face, in the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the permanent creases between his eyebrows.
“I want the truth as much as you do. But until I know for certain, until I’m convinced beyond a doubt, I’m holding on to the possibility that Cormac is not guilty.”
I laugh bitterly. “Not guilty? We found the statements proving otherwise.”
“We don’t know they’re real. It could be the situation with Riley all over again. Those statements could have been planted for exactly this reason, to divide our family and make it easier to take us down.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Bring up Riley. I hate that she’s getting caught up in all of this.”
“How do you think I fucking feel? If I didn’t get to the safehouse when I did, it would have been my pregnant wife bleeding out as well as Dr. Allen. Whether we like it or not, we’re all caught up in this, including Riley.”
My jaw aches from clenching it so hard. “I thought she would be safe with us. Instead, I’ve brought her into the center of the lion's den, and she almost died because of it.”
“Cormac wouldn’t hurt her if that’s what you’re implying—”
“Wouldn’t he? He fucking killed our father, Ronan!”
“We don’t know that.”
“Believe what you want; it’s just your life on the line.” I push off the desk and stalk over to the drinks cart to pour myself a whiskey.
“Cormac knows I wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat if he ever laid a hand on Ciara.”
“What happened to loyalty? Cormac’s disappeared without a trace. What more proof do you need?”
“There’s still a chance this can be explained.”
“Explained? You can’t seriously believe that.”
“He’s our brother.”
I down the whiskey in one gulp, hissing as it burns my throat. “What do we say to Brennan?”
“We say nothing until I have the statements analyzed.”
I turn around. “You seriously want to keep this from him? He’s our brother too. He deserves to know if Cormac has betrayed us.”
Ronan shakes his head. “No. I don’t want Brennan distracted.”
I huff a laugh and pour another drink. “It’s always about what you want.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” Ronan gets to his feet.
“Isn’t it?” I turn back around to face him. “How do you think he’s going to feel when he realizes it was Cormac behind all of this, and that we knew and didn’t tell him? This will divide our family, Ronan.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Bullshit!”
For a second, Ronan and I glare at each other, our chests heaving as we both fight to keep a hold on our anger.
My fingers tighten around the glass in my hand, but before I can launch it at Ronan’s head, I slam it back down on the cart and head for the door.
“I’ve heard enough. Keep believing Cormac’s a saint, but don’t be surprised if you end up in the ground like our father.”
“Kieran.”
I stop, my hand on the knob. My temper is a living thing in my chest, urging me to keep walking. But something in Ronan’s voice makes me glance back. “What?”
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“A favor? Are you kidding me?”
“I want you to stay at the house. With Ciara this close to her due date, I’d feel a lot better if you and Riley stayed here until the twins are born. I want her safe, and I trust you to help me with that.”
“You really think it’s a good idea for all of us to be living under one roof?”
A ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of Ronan’s mouth. “I think I’m going to need Riley around, just to stop you from killing me.”
“You might be right about that.”
Ronan laughs under his breath as he glances back toward the door. “I think it would be good for Ciara and Riley to keep each other company too, to have some sense of normalcy among the chaos.”
As much as I don’t want to say yes, I know Ronan makes a good point.
This isn’t just about what I want anymore; it’s about what is best for Riley.
“Fine. I’ll do whatever I can to help. But just know it’s not for you. I’m doing it for Riley. And for Ciara.”
Ronan nods, tucking his hands into his pockets.
The faraway look in his eye as he stares down at the floor is unnerving.
For the first time in my life, I can see a vulnerability in Ronan that I’ve never seen before.
Whether it was always there, buried beneath the layers of armor that he built growing up under our father’s hand, or if it’s something he’s learned from Ciara, I’m not sure.
I’ve seen him walk straight into a gunfight without so much as flinching. I’ve seen him dismember bodies with a smile on his face. But ever since he learned that Ciara was pregnant, I’ve noticed he’s lost some of that arrogance that made him appear unstoppable.
“How is Ciara?” I ask.
Ronan’s mouth twists, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corners. “She’s tired and sick of being pregnant, but she’s hanging in there. I think she’s just ready to give birth and finally meet the tiny humans who have been kicking her in the ribs for months.”
“She might regret that once those babies are screaming at two a.m. every night.”
His expression softens, though the shadows remain in his eyes. “Probably. But I know she’ll be amazing and handle it like a boss. I just…” His shoulders stiffen, and his jaw tightens as he stares longingly at their wedding photo on his bookshelf.
“You just, what?” I sink into the chair across from him.
He hesitates, then lets out a shaky laugh. “I’m terrified, Kieran.”
“Of what?”
“Of becoming a father.”
I blink, surprised at the honesty.
Ronan doesn’t usually admit fear, not just to me but to anyone.
“You’ll be fine,” I say automatically, but he shakes his head
“You don’t know that. I’ve spent my whole life preparing to run this family, making decisions that affect everyone else. But this? Raising kids? That’s not something I can control. What if I screw it up?”
His vulnerability unsettles me.
He’s always been the strong one, and the cracks in his armor make me unsteady.
“Ciara will pick up the slack, so I wouldn’t worry.”
“I think worrying comes with the territory of being a parent. You’ll understand what it’s like one day.”
One day.
“I don’t know if I even want kids.”
“Seriously?”
“I mean, I do want them, I guess. But I’m not sure I’d be a good dad. I’m terrified I would just fuck up their life, so maybe it’s better not to take the risk at all.”
Ronan studies me, his gaze steady. “That fear? It’s natural. Everyone feels it. But it doesn’t mean you’ll be a bad father. It just means you care enough to worry about the responsibility.”
“Maybe.” I lean back and stare at the ceiling. “But what if I never stop feeling like this? What if I’m never ready?”
He shakes his head. “You will be. When the time’s right, it’ll feel different. You’ll see.”
I want to believe him. I really do. But deep down, I’m not convinced.
The fear feels too big, too rooted, like something that will never go away. And the worst part? As much as I want to believe in the future and the happy ending, right now all I can feel is the ghost of Cormac’s betrayal looming over us all.
One way or another, I’m going to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at, and when I do, he’ll regret the day he decided to stab us in the back.