Once inside the house, I lead my brothers straight down the hall on the right toward our father’s study. It’s the only place I trust to have the conversation we’re about to have. It also has the best stocked bar cart in the entire estate, and I could really use a fucking drink right now.
The lingering smell of cigars clings to the walls of the study, and the sight of the oversized oak desk and dark leather chair has a heavy weight settling in my stomach as I step inside.
The ghost of my father is everywhere—in the empty whiskey glass on the desk and the pile of papers stacked on the coffee table beside the couch.
I can’t believe he’ll never step foot in this room again.
Being in here makes his death more real. More real than holding his bleeding body in my hands or hearing the doctor tell me he didn’t make it.
The man who built the Sullivan empire is gone, all because of one fucking bullet.
Lorcan takes a seat in one of the brown leather armchairs, his eyes distant as he looks around the room, no doubt having similar thoughts to my own.
Kieran and Brennan hover by the door, wearing identical expressions of anger and grief.
Lorcan’s voice comes quiet and measured. “You’ve got the floor, Ronan.”
I force myself to take a deep breath and keep a lid on my anger. I can’t afford to lose it now, not when the fucker who killed my father is still out there, roaming the streets of New York like he owns the damn place.
“We need to plan for the next steps. We can’t afford to wait.”
Kieran has his hands closed so tight his knuckles are white. “What we need is to find the bastard who did this. I don’t care who they are or where they are, I’m coming for them.”
Kieran gets this way any time someone is trying to take us down. He’s always the first to act and to get his hands dirty. And that makes him dangerous to our enemies. But it may also make him a liability.
Because he becomes reckless.
“We can’t afford to make a move out of anger. If we retaliate too quickly, we’ll make mistakes, and that will make us look like we’re scrambling to keep hold of our power.”
His eyes narrow. “So, what? We just sit here while some asshole gets away with killing our father?”
“No one is getting away with anything. But we need to plan. To move when it counts.”
Kieran scoffs. “And you don’t think that’s now?”
“No, I fucking don’t. We need to show everyone who’sstill in control, and we don’t do that by making stupid mistakes or rushing through things.”
Brennan’s eyes burn through me, so I turn to face my youngest brother.
“Speak.”
Brennan glances nervously at Kieran, who has started pacing back and forth in front of the desk, his face a mask of fury.
“I agree with you, Ronan. We can’t be impulsive, but we do need to make a move. Something that reminds everyone who the fuck the Sullivans are.”
Kieran scoffs, turning his gaze toward Brennan. “So, we sit around here in our dead father’s study and talk about power moves while everyone’s waiting to tear us apart?”
“That’s not what I’m saying?—”
“Everyone’s watching us. And I don’t know about you, but I have no interest in looking like a beaten-down dog.”
I step into Kieran’s path. “We need to show strength, not weakness. We need something that makes a statement as well as solidifies our position at the top of the food chain.”
“So, an alliance?” Lorcan suggests.
I blink at his words as an idea takes form in my mind.
My da’s voice floats through me.Getting involved with her could be an easy way to fix some old wounds.
