I nod. Smile. Wait until they’re gone.
Then I slip away.
Father’s office smells like dust and old sins. The oak desk sits heavy, the walls swallowing light. It feels more like a tomb than a room.
I move quietly, checking drawers, bookshelves, tapping for hollow panels.
I know there is something here, my gut is telling me.
I start looking, for what I don’t know, sliding my hand over the wall as I look around, then stop. I move my hand over the area a few more times; this feels weird. My lips curl slightly into a smile, a false panel. Hidden like shame. Quickly opening it, I smile. Finally, something, I pull the files out. Thick. Marked with names, dates, agreements.
Rory’s family.
My breath stops cold.
They’ve worked with us for years: fronts, forged accounts, smuggling routes, all targeting Messina shipments.
The pieces click together.
The Cavalli family stands with the Messinas, Camilla, Matteo’s aunt, tied to them by marriage.
The shooting happened on their turf in Blackstone Hollow. Rory’s wife died there.
And now they’re blaming the Messinas.
This engagement isn’t a merger. It’s a setup. A way to take the Italians down.
My hands shake as I flip through the files.
A fresh sheet catches the light—bold black ink across the top:
AOIFE – MARRIAGE CONTRACT.
The wedding’s set for the end of term.
Not after graduation. Not next year.
Two months. No one told me. No one asked.
I scan the signatures, Father, Uncle Liam, Rory.
My name sits beneath theirs like property.
Another sheet is clipped behind it.
PREGNANCY INITIATIVE.
Get her pregnant fast. Lock the bloodline. Secure power. Preserve legacy.
My stomach twists.
At the bottom of the stack, a sealed manila envelope. I tear it open.
The words hitlike a bullet to the heart.
TERMINATION PLAN.
Target: Aoife O’Brien.
