And if Patrick senses that shift, he will know something is different.
I push away from the sink and pace the narrow space, three steps one direction, three back. My phone sits on the counter, silent. I flip it over and stare at the screen.
No new messages.
For a brief, reckless second, I imagine not telling anyone and carrying this quietly, letting the war burn itself out while I decide whether I am strong enough to walk away from my father entirely.
But secrets don’t stay buried in houses like ours. They surface. They explode.
I lean over the sink and splash cold water on my face. When I look up again, my reflection is gaunt, eyes too bright, mouth pressed thin. I look cornered.
My mouth trembles as I dry my hands slowly and set the test back in its wrapper, then into the paper bag with the rest of the pharmacy items. I fold the top down neatly.
I think of Cillian again. He said he wasn’t going back.
Neither can I.
Outside the door, someone knocks lightly. “Will you be long, hun?” a woman’s voice calls.
“One minute,” I answer, and my voice sounds steady.
I have to tell Cillian. I must let him know everything before it’s too late.
16
CILLIAN
“Continue,” I say, and I take my seat at the head of the table without looking toward the window again.
Nikolas, Roarke’s replacement, resumes mid-sentence, pointing to the eastern corridor on the digital map, and I listen while scanning the live feed from the port cameras on the side screen. Three of Patrick’s containers have already been flagged, and customs has them sitting in inspection purgatory while his distributors bleed storage fees by the hour.
“Union vote’s tonight,” Conor says. “We’ve secured nine out of thirteen reps.”
“Make it eleven,” I reply. “Offer fuel credits to the holdouts and pull maintenance contracts from anyone who resists.”
He nods and types it in.
I don’t miss the way my mind drifts back to her.
She hasn’t texted.
I ignore the impulse to check my phone and continue down the list. A carrier in Cork has gone silent after we froze its insurance backing, and I instruct Aidan to send auditors with two uniformed officers so the message lands clean. Two of Patrick’s outer distributors have started negotiating exit clauses, and I approve the buyouts without blinking.
By one in the afternoon, we’ve shifted three percent of the eastern volume into Byrne hands without firing a shot.
When the meeting clears, I remain seated and open the internal ledger. Eva’s file still sits in the archive, flagged under closed matters, and I leave it untouched. I’ve read it enough times to know every line by memory.
She died in a parking garage five years ago, a blast timed to the ignition of her car. The report saidDevice planted beneath the chassis, professional wiring, remote trigger. Everyone assumed it was collateral in a feud with a rival syndicate, and I buried two men in retaliation before the smoke cleared. A knock hits the door.
“Yeah.”
Conor steps in without ceremony. “You’ll want to see this.”
He closes the door behind him and sets a folder on the desk, thicker than most of the compliance briefs we pass around these days. There’s a flash drive clipped to the inside.
“Source?” I ask.
“Old contact from the northern routes. He’s been sitting on it. Says he finally got confirmation.”
