Chapter 9 Liam
LIAM
There is no way to end this engagement. As I promised, I gave it some thought.
Serious thought. Don’t get me wrong. I want to marry Taryn.
If I’m going to have to get married, she’s the whole package.
Smart. Beautiful. Sexy. But if there is a way around this marriage entirely?
Okay. Sure. I gave it some thought. Brainstormed if you will.
I know that I’ll eventually have to get married.
Take my place helping to run clan business.
One day, I’ll even lead it. Need to produce an heir.
That’s simple destiny, and I am one hundred percent certain that there is no way to avoid my fate.
Regardless of how I feel about it. And, truth be told, like I told Taryn, I’m not looking forward to going to work for my father.
My old man has always been an asshole, and he wants no one else’s opinion on how things should be done.
He just wants me to do things the exact way he’d do them himself.
The same way he’s been doing things his whole life.
The same archaic way his father did things before him.
Seriously. Where’s the challenge in that? The fun in that?
I’ll graduate soon and probably go work at one of our clubs.
Learn how Da likes them to be managed. Fine.
I’ll listen to what he wants while, as usual, I talk to people behind the scenes to figure things out on my own.
One day, I’ll have to step up and force my old man to realize we’re still operating in the dark ages, but until I care enough to do so, I thought Taryn would be a great distraction.
Love isn’t a requirement for marriage in our world, and we don’t need it anyway.
If she would stop fighting this so hard, she’d realize that the two of us will get along just fine without it.
Even if I recognize that’s not entirely fair to her, I came to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter.
My clan and hers need this alliance. Our engagement will enable the clans to start planning how we can work together, and our marriage will solidify those plans.
It’s how things are done. Like I said, dark ages. Her fate is now bound to mine.
So, here we are. My father, Rowan, and I are standing with drinks in hand, off in some private study at the O’Toole estate.
Taryn and her family should arrive any moment.
I have no clue where the rest of my family wandered off to.
They’ve likely made themselves scarce because my father is in his usual surly mood.
“We lost two investors last week,” my father grumbles, his Irish brogue thick with annoyance. “We’re going to have to find another business to run the money through if this keeps up.”
Rowan nods. “We were able to catch one of Nicopolis’s men outside one of our clubs in Brooklyn. He was doing reconnaissance of some sort, trying to plant cameras.”
My father hums. “What did you find out?”
Rowan sighs. “Not much. He was simply following orders, which he says came from Nico Georgiou. He was just told where to plant the cameras.”
“Do you believe him?” my father asks, tossing back the last of his whiskey.
“I do,” Rowan grunts. “By the time my guy was done with him, he would have sold me his own mother to make the pain stop.”
I stifle a groan. I had hopes that Rowan would be smarter than my old man.
Rather than torture some young soldier for information he didn’t have—because who sends a top-ranking official to install cameras?
—why not follow him? Or, maybe let them think they’re getting one over on us and then intercept their feeds?
My brother, Ryan, could have done that in a heartbeat.
My father chuckles without humor. “Well, best we stop talking shop in front of Liam. Boy turns green at any mention of someone getting a paper cut.”
I take a deep breath and stuff down the insult. One day, that well will overflow it’s so damn full of my father’s vitriol, but today is not that day. Once again, I drink his venom like whiskey. I down the shot and swallow the burn.
Rowan’s eyebrows rise but he doesn’t comment on my supposed queasiness or my father’s condescension. Instead he offers, “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. Tonight is supposed to be a happy night.” He claps me on the shoulder.
Yes. I’m about to get engaged to the fiery princess herself.
I crack my neck and take a deep breath. I know she’s pissed.
She didn’t hide how she felt last night, and although she was a little nicer this morning, her texts let me know she was still counting on me to kill this whole thing.
I hope she gets over that soon. We all have our part to play as heirs in this world, and like I told her, I’m not a terrible guy.
She could have had worse luck in the marriage lottery.
Speaking of Taryn, four men walk into the room, each looking like they’ll tear me apart if I harm a single hair on her pretty head. Taryn’s father nods at Rowan and then walks directly to me.
“I assume you’re Liam?”
I’m about to answer when my father steps in front of me. “Yes, and I’m Kian McGuiness. Mick Walsh?”
The stocky man gives a curt nod and then holds out his hand. My father shakes it as they size each other up.
“Does your boy speak?” Mick asks, raising an eyebrow at my father. Well, fuck. This is off to a marvelous start.
“Yes, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I edge forward and thrust my hand in Mick’s direction before my father has an opportunity to choke him for that question. My future father-in-law considers me for what feels like an eternity before he shakes my hand.
“I don’t know if you know my boys. This is Rafferty.
” He nods at the oldest one. “Nolan.” He indicates the biggest one.
“And, Rory.” He tilts his head toward the skinny freshman I’ve seen around campus.
Kid has the reddest hair I’ve ever seen.
Like, Ronald McDonald red. He’s wearing a scowl like his older brothers.
“Rory just started at St. A’s this year. Raff and Nolan both graduated already.”
I nod politely at them. Raff is carefully studying me, while Nolan looks like he wants to tear me apart.
Nolan is a reaper, the New York clan’s hitman, which is impressive for his age.
There are a few enforcers in every clan, but there is typically only one reaper.
There isn’t as much cause to go around killing people as frequently as the movies would have you believe.
Regardless, it means Nolan is a sure shot and doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.
He’s eyeing me as if I’m his next target.
“That’s my brother, Ryan.” Since there is no doubt that my father would never introduce him, I sweep my arm to indicate my younger brother, who is absorbed in studying a painting across the room.
I don’t ask him to join this shit show. “He’s a sophomore at St. A’s.
” He’s the only family member, besides my father, who is left in the room.
I don’t know where the others wandered off to, and I’m not sure it matters.
I want introductions to be over anyway. It’s been the longest fucking day of my life, and I want to get this show on the road.
No one responds. The silence is becoming suffocating. “Is, um—” I clear my throat. “Is Taryn here?”
Raff grunts, while Mick Walsh sighs.
“She’s here,” Nolan grits out.
“Is there a problem?” my father asks tersely.
Mick shakes his head, while Rowan responds, “I’m sure there isn’t. I have every confidence that Taryn has been looking forward to this evening.”
Raff starts coughing. Jesus. Could this go any worse? You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know. At least she didn’t run away. I half expected her to.
“I have been looking forward to this evening as well.” I try for my most charming smile, which for once in my life, seems to impress no one. “I think the world of Taryn, and I assure you, Mr. Walsh, I will treat her with the utmost respect.”
Mick seems to appreciate this because he relaxes his shoulders slightly. “I’m glad to hear that, Liam. Very glad.”
My father has had enough. “Well, should we talk a few terms before we let the new couple spend a few moments together?”
Mick nods his agreement, and he, Rowan, and my father all walk toward a small table across the room. I don’t bother to join them. My father has already informed me of the terms. I don’t need to hear them again.
“I will fuck you up if you hurt her,” Nolan growls in my face, now that we’ve been left to our own devices. “I’ll make it look like an accident. A slow, painful, gruesome accident. They’ll have to identify you by your fucking dental records.”
“Jesus, Nolan.” Raff laughs. And, then he turns to me. “But, you should know, he is serious.” He says this while smiling.
“I don’t plan to hurt her.” It’s the truth, and I’m hoping they can tell I’m sincere. Raff looks like he believes me. Nolan, on the other hand…
“I don’t give a single fuck what you plan to do. Planned or not, I swear to Christ, if she sheds even one tear, I will cut off your—”
“Okay, man,” Raff interrupts him, putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder, still smiling. “He gets it. Right, Liam?”
I sigh. “Yep. Crystal clear.”
I’m still choosing my next words carefully when I’m startled by Mick Walsh’s big hand clamping onto my shoulder. “My Taryn,” he says in my ear, “she’s a bit high-spirited, but she’s a good girl. She has a kind heart. I’m trusting you not to break it.”
I wonder if he’d think his daughter has such a good heart if he knew about her California plans. However, I don’t get to offer him any assurances, because Rowan announces that we should all join the reception. “Except you,” he tells me. “Wait here.”