She had paused in the middle of chewing a bite of meat; her jaw frozen unevenly as she recovered from Rory’s words. She tucked a strand of her curls behind her ear as she began to focus on a point in the distance—something she did when she was overwhelmed.
Daniel refocused on his father, leaving Noah to his delusions at his abandoned end of the table. “You cannot seriously believe that. I cannot remember a single conversation with her that went pleasantly—”
Rory held up his hand to silence his son. Daniel’s protest fell away, but his shoulders stayed hunched up around his ears and his features were still pulled tight across his face with concern. Rory’s voice was stern when he spoke again, “I want you to consider Caitlin.”
Daniel’s jaw locked in place as he held his teeth together. The anger he felt was dizzying—maddening to the point that he was beginning to feel envious of Caitlin’s ability to storm from the dining room. As he sat there, trying to navigate through the lies that Noah and his father were weaving together in front of him, Daniel began to regret taking such delight in Caitlin’s embarrassment and misery—now they belonged to him as well. Worse, now they belonged to one another. He felt compelled to let out a groan, but held his tongue in front of Noah—he was still a guest in the man’s home, after all. He wondered if it would be appropriate to excuse himself as Caitlin had done. Now that he was thinking more clearly about it, Daniel was certain that Caitlin had retreated to her bedroom and he wouldn’t know where to go to if he did excuse him. He thought briefly about just wanting outside to get a breath of fresh air, knowing the ocean air would cool his cheeks—but a larger part of him longed to go farther than that. He longed for the winding roads in between the cottage and his university in Dublin. Not that long ago, he’d just been a business student. Now, sitting in the warm lighting of the Murphys’ fireplace with a hearty plate of food in front of him, he was being forced to consider marriage. Marriage toher.
“If I may be frank,” Daniel spoke suddenly, earning his father’s attention. He wanted his father’s gaze off of his as soon as he’d gotten it. He looked away. “I honestly think she would sooner consider giving up the pub than she would marrying me.” He wound his hand around his neck, rubbing at the back of it as his muscles ached. He crossed his arms in front of himself. “It would be just about one of her only decisions that I’d stand by,” he quipped.
Daniel’s father gave him a sharp look. It made him recall the look that Noah and his daughter had shared before she left. A challenge posed in the midst of a delicate situation—he took a steadying breath.
“You wouldn’t want to marry the wretch either,” Daniel’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it had a venomous tone to it.
Daniel’s father’s face contorted with anger, deepening to an angry maroon shade. “You watch your tongue, boy. You are a guest in this house and no son of mine will speak ill of his hosts.” His father taking the time to chastise him in front of the table made Daniel’s face burn. He was thankful for the soft lighting of the fireplace; he hoped it obscured his red ears. “Despite whatever pettiness lies between you and Caitlin, our families are close. When you disrespect the Murphys, you disrespect your own.” He reached over, lifting his son’s chin with a quick pull of his hand.
Daniel was surprised to see kindness in his father’s eyes when he continued speaking. He pulled his hand away in the next second, but held his son’s gaze. Daniel didn’t dare look away. “You must be blind if you haven’t realized that the real reason we’re eating with the Murphys tonight is to talk business.” Rory moved his plate away from him, leaving only a few scraps on the colored glass. Although Daniel didn’t look away from his father, he could hear silverware being retired onto plates around the table. It was clear that dinner was over. “As my youngest son, it’s time that you get involved in the family business.” Rory placed a hand on the end of the table as he heaved his body out of his chair.
The rest of the men rose from the table. His father nodded towards Noah’s back office—the room that he had watched his brothers age into after college. Daniel scrambled out of his chair and fell into line behind his brothers as he thought of the stories they had made up about the room in their youth. Storylines of their fathers working with secret agents or superheroes—he and his brothers played together, taking turns pretending to be the agents that their fathers were helping protect the world from aliens or monsters. Sometimes they would try to save their sister, Sophie, who would read in the fake prison the boys constructed out of cardboard boxes and rocks. As Daniel got older, he outgrew those ideas and instead settled for something far more mundane—his father and Noah Murphy were simply drinking in the back room. He thought about this as he followed after his brother, Jack, taking in Mr. Murphy’s study for the first time. As he crossed through the doorway, he could hear the faint whispers of his mother and sister coming from the dining room. Daniel didn’t like it, but it was impossible not to jump to the conclusion that the two women were talking about the idea of him and Caitlin—he was sure Sophie wouldn’t talk about the arrangement favorably. Maybe another voice would be enough to shake some reason into Mr. Murphy.
Inside the warm office, there was a large, round table made of the same wood as the dining room table. As the men funneled into the office, they started taking seats at the table. It looked rehearsed, like they’d planned this meeting out before. The door closed behind Daniel, enveloping him and the other men in the warmth of the fireplace on the far wall. Now that he was looking at it, he noticed that the mantel was lined with expensive-looking, leather bound books. A desk—Noah’s, Daniel assumed—sat in the corner next to the fireplace. Daniel could see a thick stack of documents; there was a framed picture of Caitlin leaning up against an unlit lamp.
Daniel took the remaining seat at the round table, finding himself in between his brother, Kilian, and his father. Now that they had left the dining room, Daniel could make out the scents of roasted meat and vegetables as they swirled around inside the office.
“Can someone explain what’s going on?” Daniel asked as Mr. Murphy settled into his seat at the table. He tried to piece together an explanation on his brothers’ faces, but each of them only seemed to communicate that they were waiting for either of the older men to speak first.
The tediousness of the situation made Daniel want to roll his eyes, but the tension in the air kept him from relaxing into his chair. He kept his feet firmly on the floor, wanting the ability to bolt in case his brothers were planning to wrestle him into a tuxedo. “I’m more than happy to help the family out,” Daniel explained, looking to his father. His words didn’t seem to phase his father though. Rory’s eyes were distant, piecing together something that Daniel couldn’t see.
“One of the main reasons that I pursued business was so that I could—"
Rory raised his hand again. As soon as Daniel fell silent, he turned to his youngest son.
“I’m sure this won’t come as too much of a surprise for you. You’re too bright for that.” His father shook his head, dismissing the idea that one of his sons wouldn’t have put it together on their own. A whiplash of pride worked through Daniel’s chest, but he pressed it down to focus on his father as he lifted one of his aged hands to rub his forehead. “The brewery is only a front for the real family business. We still work with Noah here,” Noah nodded when Daniel’s father gestured to him, “but our relationship with the Murphys is much more… intimate than you may have realized. We are, as you know, well acquainted with members of the Irish Mob.”
“Yes,” Daniel said, his voice careful, “I know of your friends, Dad.”
“Then it shouldn’t surprise you to know that my connections are more than that, they’re my associates, my colleagues.”
Daniel’s stomach tightened as he watched the man he’d known his whole life tell a tale of mafia, initiation, and ultimately how he came to be the leader.
His father’s face was gentle as he began to layer the truth for Daniel. He was doing a good job, but Daniel tried to hide a frown as he thought about how much practice he had at telling his children that he was a criminal—did Sophie know?
Daniel understood how his father and Mr. Murphy had formed the plan of their children marrying—it’d be easier for both of them in the long run if their best interests were tied to protecting the same people. “You’re right. I’m not surprised.” It was all Daniel could manage to say in the moment; he was still too shocked by the notion of marrying Caitlin to even begin formulating an argument. It was beyond all reason. Daniel had wondered about organized crime before, especially when he had first learned about the idea from a mafia movie that he had seen in theaters with his older brother, Kilian. At the time, he had dismissed it as another one of his stories that he had made up when he was younger, but now he was realizing that he had just been piecing together a family secret from a young age. “I’m just confused about how I’ll be involved, I suppose.”
Noah spoke from the other side of the table. “We’re proposing that you work the front of the house—take care of the books, make sure we’re running efficiently.”
“To make sure everything looks legal, you mean?” Daniel asked, lacing his fingers on top of the table. Daniel wasn’t sure what he was expecting from his father, especially after the way he’d behaved at dinner, but it wasn’t the cushy job looking after the books. He frowned when he realized the heavy lifting he was doing for the family was tying the families together through blood.
“Exactly,” Jack said as he placed one of his hands on the table. His blue eyes met his youngest brother across the table. “It’s a smart deal. You get to help the family while using your degree.”
Rory placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder to silence him. It was clear that their father wanted to speak directly to Daniel as he introduced him to the truth about the family business. “I know this is a lot to ask and that you have a lot of questions. It’s important to me that you know the family isn’t involved in anything like in the movies, no human trafficking, prostitution, anything like that. We’re just smuggling in goods that people will pay more for. We need to make sure that, for all intents and purposes, no one on the outside can look in and nab us. The Kelly family brewery has to continue to run seamlessly, and I know that we can trust you.”
Daniel wanted to bottle the pride he felt. His father wasn’t the type to express gratitude or admiration for people that often. He pulled his gaze away from his father’s eyes, finding the resemblance in each of his brothers’ amusing as he looked around to each of the pair of ocean-colored eyes that stared back at him. “Have you all been working for the family business?”
Now that the news was out in the open in front of everyone, Daniel’s brothers had relaxed.
Kilian was the first to crack a smile and begin laughing. “You know, for the smart one—it sure took you a while to put that together, kiddo!” As Kilian landed a smack on Daniel’s shoulder, Daniel began to realize how Kilian’s connection to the law worked for the family business, and how his brother, Liam, could be linked too. Liam has been a practicing lawyer for a few years now, specializing in criminal cases, and most likely, had worked on the cases that involved any of their father’s workers. It occurred to Daniel that having access to police records through Kilian, and Liam to defend them in court, was invaluable in their circumstances. It made more than enough sense how his father and Mr. Murphy had managed to work underneath the police’s radar for all these years with one son being able to redirect the attention of the police, and the other being more than capable to get any charges wiped off of anyone up against substantial evidence.
Daniel felt heavy in his seat. Even though part of him had always known about his family’s mafia work, it was an entirely new experience to have it realized. He laid his hands on the table’s dark surface, enjoying the cool wood in contrast to the suffocatingly warm office around him. He allowed himself a moment of quiet deliberation before looking up from his hands, “I’m surprised, but I’m on board.”
