She is a McCarthy, after all, and even if I could harbor dreams of love and a family, which have died long ago, she could never be it for me.
I once dreamed of having someone to love, I still wonder what it would be like to have someone to come home to. A family. Kids of my own. But I am under no illusions that if I ever get married, it will be a business transaction. Love has no place in my life.
Kieran smirks. “She also has a killer pair of tits, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
My teeth clench. “I’m aware.”
“Are you?”
“All I’m saying is at least Ciara has the guts not to pretend to feel something she doesn’t.”
Most women in this world throw themselves at me and treat me like I’m god's gift to this earth. But not Ciara.
She looks at me like I’m the man who put her father in the ground, which I suppose isn’t entirely wrong. But that story is messier than anyone knows, with the truth buried six feet under. And I’m not about to start digging it up.
Brennan chuckles. “Oh, she’s definitely not pretending. She looks like she’s going to murder you.”
“Hot,” Kieran mutters.
I shoot my brothers a glare before downing the rest of my drink. “You fuckers are insufferable.”
Brennan groans as he scans the room, already bored despite the fact that we’ve been here for less than ten minutes. “Why do these events always have the same damn people?”
I scoff. “Maybe if you didn’t sleep with half of them, you wouldn’t be so bored.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
I roll my shoulders as I chance a look around the room.
Brennan is right. It is the same damn people who, to put it frankly, offer me nothing that I don’t already have.
All hollow shells that sell their souls for a buck and a half.
My family is one of the most powerful in the city, so it’s a common occurrence for lesser families to seek our alliance at parties such as this, which gets a little tiresome.
There is just one person who never bows to us.
My eyes scan the room until they land on her.
Ciara McCarthy.
I told my father I’d show my face and then head out before I could get cornered, but after running into her, I’m half-tempted to stay a bit longer. Having a woman bite back at me is refreshing, and I’m tempted to go back for round two.
“Ronan!” My father’s voice cuts through the crowd like a whip, and I turn to see him stalking toward us with a fresh whiskey in his hand, though from the slight flush in his cheeks, it’s likely not his first.
Tormenting Ciara will have to wait.
“Let’s go.” Followed by my brothers, I cut through the crowd toward our father.
I’ve often been described as a carbon copy of him, which I once took as an insult, but the older I became, the more I realized what a compliment that is.
Seamus Sullivan is a force to be reckoned with. His oncedark hair might now be streaked with gray and his face heavily lined, but age has yet to weaken him.
“That Ciara McCarthyyewere talking to?” A hint of his Dublin accent is still present after all these years.
Kieran stiffens beside me as our father completely ignores him and Brennan,again.
I glance over at Kieran and take in his bored expression, but I see past it.
