“Then act like it. You need to tell Cormac that if he doesn’t commit, he’s out.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“No?”
“He’s been through enough. He left for a reason, and if he comes back, I want it to be because he chooses to and not because I gave him an ultimatum.”
Lorcan’s jaw tightens. “You’re thinking like a brother, not a leader.”
“I’m both. And that matters to me.”
He stares at me for a second before sighing and picking up his half-finished coffee. “Your father had a way of separating sentiment from strategy.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not my father.”
“Not yet,” he says, with a note of pride. “But you’re getting there.”
“Keep this between us, will you? I haven’t told Kieran and Brennan about the clause yet, only because I know they’ll lose their shit.”
“Of course. But I suggest you get a move on. The lastthing we need is for Cormac to leave and the business to go to shit.”
“I’m aware.”
For the first time since the funeral, the full weight of my father’s absence rests heavily on me.
He was a force to be reckoned with, and now I’m expected to be the same. Yet somehow, the hardest part of all this isn’t the business or the pressure.
No.
It’s something much worse.
It’s that the one person I’m bound to in this mess is suddenly making me question everything. The woman with such fire in her blood that she would no doubt burn me alive if I let her get close enough.
And I might let her just to feel something real for once in my life.
Chapter Fifteen
CIARA
This place is not a home.It’s a fortress.
Every inch of this estate is too clean, too…perfect.
Though, I shouldn’t be surprised, considering the fact that Ronan and his brothers are always pristine.
I trail my fingers along the edge of the kitchen counter, eyeing the expensive appliances.
Even the coffee machine is sleek and, honestly, slightly intimidating, no doubt imported from Italy and worth more than the cost of my entire wardrobe.
Before my family’s downfall, we had wealth, but it was nothing compared to this.
The Sullivans have the kind of wealth that makes people feel small.
People like me.
I open a random cabinet overhead just to see what's inside and sigh as I find everything arranged perfectly. I pad over to the fridge, and even that’s organized to perfection, withorganicandtrufflewritten on almost every jar. There’s nothing even remotely unhealthy, which only pisses me off more.
If I’m expected to stay here against my will, I’d at least like to do so while I gorge myself on pizza.
