Page 50 of Dirty Legacy

“This is unacceptable. It’s bad enough you ditched the wedding and started a war, but now you’re forcing me to live in this dump?”

“It’s a multi-million-dollar mansion,” Dad says, exasperated.

“It’s falling apart! I hate it!” Danielle flails, glaring at me. “You could have at least made it presentable before dragging us to our new prison.”

“You’re free to leave whenever you like.” I gesture at the door behind me, back the way I came. Colm is visible in front of Angie’s wing, keeping it guarded and my wife quarantined. I don’t know how long I can keep everyone separate, but I’ll figure it out eventually.

“Oh, real funny, and let the Gallaghers shoot me in the face.” Danielle’s eyes cut to me. “You could’ve at least warned us you were going to ruin all our lives.”

“Honey, please stop.” Dad holds her arm and tugs her away. His smile is apologetic. “It’s been a long day, that’s all. She’ll come around.”

“I’ll send the staff to clean thoroughly.” I move past them.

“This isn’t over, Connor!” Danielle calls after me. Her voice softens as I walk further away. “And what’s with you, asshole, not sticking up for me? He’s your son, Cathal, you don’t have to be afraid of him all the damn time…”

I’m smiling to myself as I knock on Rowan’s door. She calls me in and I leave my father to deal with his unruly wife in peace.

“Mom’s livid,” Rowan says. She’s standing on the far side of her new bedroom looking out the window. The space is enormous but there’s not much furniture except for an old armoire, a big four-poster bed, and beautiful built-in bookshelves crammed with as many books as I could find. My little sister turns, beaming happily. “But this place is awesome.”

“Glad you think so.” I run my finger over the windowsill. It comes back dirty. “There’s work to do.”

“You let it go.”

“Hard to take care of a place this big when I’m alone.”

“Is that why you brought us here?”

“No, I brought you here to make sure you were safe.”

“Sure, sure.” She punches my arm. “Or maybe you finally got too lonely.”

I snort and shake my head. “I stay in my apartment most nights. Manhattan’s loud and crowded, you know that.”

“And your apartment’s sad and empty. Come on, this was an excuse to get the family back together. Speaking of which—“ Rowan leans against the wall, chin tilted up. “Where’s your wife?”

“Angelina’s in her rooms.”

“Yeah? Where’s that?”

“That, little sister, is out of bounds.” I flick her in the elbow. “And don’t make trouble.”

“Come on, I want to meet your wife. I mean, you blew up everything for this girl, right? You might as well let me see what the fuss is about.”

“Another time.” I drift to the bookshelf. I don’t recognize most of the titles, but one catches my eye. The Silmarillion. “What’s this Tolkien about?”

“Don’t distract me with hobbits. Come on, tell me about her.” Rowan flops onto the bed with a sigh.

“She’s nice. She works in my finance department.”

“Wow! Sounds amazing.” Rowan props her head in her hand and waves the other in a rolling motion. “Now give me more.”

I snap the book shut. “Angelina’s younger than me. She’s near your height, auburn hair, light eyes, dresses well. Very organized.”

Rowan kicks her legs, grinning. “You think she’s pretty, don’t you?”

“Yes, I think my wife is attractive.”

“Gross.”