Though we’ve only spoken on a few occasions, I know enough about Donal to stay out of his way. He’s a wolf in an Armani suit.
“As unfortunate and tragic as these circumstances are, the family must live on.” Donal claps a firm hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Shane is watching over us, proud to see his son take the mantel. Finn will lead us into the future. A new generation. A new beginning. A new Irish Kings!”
The few elder Kings—Shane’s generation and older—raise their glasses. The rest of the mourners follow suit.
With just a few words, the torch has passed from father to son.
King to heir.
As the crowd applauds, a steady flow of people streams toward Finn, eager to catch their new leader’s ear.
I down my drink and resist the urge to smash the glass against the indoor fountain.
I’m loyal to this family. Always have been, always will be.
How dare Tiernan, that absolute cretin, suggest otherwise?
I’ll prove my commitment and loyalty as definitively as my uncle proved his treason. If necessary, I’ll sacrifice my life for this family.
The goal lights a dark flame in my mind, set ablaze by my own conviction. My own personal heat supply for the rest of the night.
We’re halfway through Shane’s memorial and Finn’s celebration when the call comes.
Through the throngs of guests, I watch Finn fish a cell phone from his pocket. His expression sours when he spies the caller ID. He answers without a word, just listening.
Premonition needles the back of my neck.
More bad news.
Finn’s big fingers clench his phone like he’s about to crush the metal to dust. He grows more rigid by the second, and by the time the call ends, I think I could bounce a quarter off his jaw.
Controlled fury dictates his motions as he shuts his cell off with a precise hand flick. I half expect him to chuck the device into the fountain rather than slip it back into his pocket.
Riley materializes at her husband’s side. Her hands reach for his face, then slide down his shoulders and arms.
My rebellious cousin comforting one of the deadliest men in the city. Never thought I’d see the day.
Finn traps her hands with his and squeezes. The simple display of affection speaks volumes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gives her a prominent role in one of the Gallaghers’ legitimate business ventures.
She’s not the same girl who ran from the Kings just a few years ago.
Riley’s lips move as she attempts to coax answers from her husband.
Part of me wishes I could sneak closer and learn more about that call. Even though he keeps his aggravation bottled well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Finn so perturbed.
Finn subtly shakes his head and strokes Riley’s arm. His deep brown eyes slice across the room, sizing up the attendees. When his gaze lands on me, my muscles tense.
The crowd parts as he stalks across the floor.
My nerves tingle, and I straighten my shoulders.
Finn stops a single stride away from me. “Kellin.”
“Sir.” Considering we’re about the same age and once, when we were toddlers, I saw him cry over a broken toy truck, the honorific sounds strange on my tongue.
“I need someone no one would recognize as a King to fly out to Santa Monica and address an issue.” Finn grimaces, the problem clearly distasteful. Then he stares me in the eye. “You want to prove you’re of more use to me than your uncle?”
I nod, determination, rage, and anticipation all roiling together in my gut. “Yes, sir.”
