At first, I felt like a bomb had been dropped in my family, tearing it apart.
But the Reckless Order rallied around me, offering a shoulder to lean on if I needed it. Just like they did now. These men were like brothers and uncles to me.
Except for Pretty Boy.
He was…something else. Something I couldn’t define.
Amid the hum of conversation that filled the waiting room, I heard my phone ring in the depths of my purse. Without paying any attention to the caller ID on the screen, I answered it.
“Hello, Lila.”
A chill shivered down my spine. I recognized that voice—the lilting Irish accent, the oily purr in his tone.
Edgar Sweeney. Member of the Irish mafia.
“What do you want, you fucking snake?” I hissed, hurrying out the door.
These bikers were a bunch of gossips and eavesdroppers. I didn’t need them listening in on my conversation. Sweeney had a notorious reputation for going back on his word, which my father had learned the hard way. Whatever reason he had for calling me, it wouldn’t be good.
“I heard about your dear old Da.” Sweeney clucked his tongue. “Such a shame.”
“If you did something to him—”
“Hush, lamb,” Sweeney cut in. “There’s no need for threats. I’ve done nothing to your Da. Not yet anyway.”
I clenched my teeth so hard that my jaw ached.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Hillbilly and I had an arrangement, but he’s not holding up his end of the bargain.”
I frowned as an uneasiness coiled in my stomach. Dad never mentioned anything like that to me. But he often left me in the dark when club business became too dangerous and might put me at risk.
“What kind of arrangement?”
“A financial one. I provided him with a loan a few months ago”
I scoffed.
“No. No way. He would have never taken a single fucking penny from you.”
Sweeney hummed.
“Your Da wanted to keep it quiet. He didn’t give reasons, and I didn’t ask. I’ve granted him a generous amount of time to pay it back—in full, in cash—and he has not delivered.”
I huffed, pacing in circles in the hospital’s parking lot.
“Well, he’s not exactly in a position to crunch numbers at the moment. That’s what happens when a medical emergency puts you in the ER.”
“Not my problem, pet,” Sweeney said. “This is business, and I will have my money back.”
I sighed, rubbing my temple where a tension headache was beginning to take shape. Being the President’s daughter was a strange position. I didn’t actually have any real power in the club. I couldn’t hold an office or vote in their meetings since I wasn’t an official member.
Instead, I was more like a princess. Except I was destined to never inherit the throne after my father’s passing. His position would be filled by someone else who was voted to take his place. And it was tricky to navigate.
“Fine,” I relented. “How much does Dad owe you?”
Maybe I could pay off this loan myself. Maybe I could get Sweeney off Dad’s back without anyone else’s help.
