Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Piper

S ean's family is waiting in the sunken living room after we grab a quick bite of breakfast and eat it standing at the island in the kitchen. When we arrive, all eyes turn toward us.

Tag folds his newspaper and sets it on the antique coffee table. "Good morning, you two. How was your camping adventure?"

Sean brushes the back of his finger over the blush on my cheek and chuckles. "I wouldn't try fishing anytime soon. Piper's cries of pleasure likely scared them all away."

I blink and my mouth falls open. "I can't believe you said that."

He laughs. "You might as well get used to my brothers razzing us because teasing is our love language."

Thankfully, Finn takes pity on me and changes the subject. "I have the laptop set up for the reading of the will. If you sit at the desk behind the sofa, you'll be able to see them, they will see you, and no one will see us, sitting here and listening."

That works for me.

"You're still willing to let us listen in?" Tag asks.

"I am. It's just…my family isn't like yours." What will they think if my mother or one of my brothers sinks their filthy fangs into me? "They might say things about me or about you. I need to apologize beforehand."

Sean lays a heavy arm across my shoulders and pulls me to his side. "You don't have to apologize for them, P. And trust me, they won't say anything we haven't heard before. Consider us five little ducks, letting everything roll off our backs."

I look at his brothers and take in the scars and the tattoos and the ‘fuck with me and die' vibe they give off. That metaphor cracks me up. "You five are the furthest thing from five little ducks I've ever seen."

He grins. "But I made you laugh."

"Aye, you did."

My phone rings and I check the caller ID. "It's my mother."

Cue a round of frowns and pursed brows.

"Did you give her your number?" Tag asks.

"No, and Rory wouldn't have either. I'm not sure how she got it."

"But she did," Sean says.

"Should I answer it?"

The guys all shrug. Which is no help at all.

Sean gives me a gentle squeeze. "That's up to you, kitten. We aren't here to tell you what to do."

That in itself seems so bizarre to me. In my household, everyone always told me what to do.

I stare at my phone a moment longer and it stops ringing. "Problem solved. She hung up."

Sean kisses my temple. "Why do you think she called?"

"Likely to fill my head with sob stories about me needing to come home and how sorry she is that Da's plans drove me away."

"It could have something to do with the will," Finn suggests. "It's almost time for the reading. She might want to talk to you beforehand, to get you in line or something."

I don't even care. "Then I'll sign into the video call, and she can talk to me in front of the lawyers if she wants to. Odds are she won't, though. She won't want to air our dirty laundry in public."

I leave the Quinns sitting in the living room and round the couch that sits opposite a dark chestnut desk. Stepping between the desk and the window wall, I sit in the soft leather executive chair.

Finn stands on the other side of the desk and points to where I need to click the mouse. I'm on the corporate website of Simpson, Jones & O'Brien, the firm my father used for all his family law issues.

When I click to join the meeting, a pop-up tells me the host has been notified, and then the screen opens to show me the interior of an elegant meeting room.

"Good morning, Ms. McGuire." The woman who opens the call smiles at me, and then begins setting out vases of water and boxes of tissues on the conference table. "I'm Connie Flaherty, Mr. Simpson's assistant. I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

I fight the urge to say it's no great loss. I could tell her my father was a cruel and unfeeling mobster and that thinking of him dead and lying in his coffin gives me a warm, satisfying glow in my tummy, but I spare her the family drama.

She's just doing her job.

"Mister Simpson stepped into the corridor to greet your mother and your brothers, dear. I'm sure they'll be in shortly and we'll get started."

"That's fine. Thank you for making it possible for me to connect remotely."

"Of course, dear. You're not the first to be out of the country when something like this happens. We're prepared for any contingency."

Little does she know that I'm less than twenty minutes from their office, but I don't trust my mother not to try to kidnap or kill me if I were to step foot on the south side of the river.

"I appreciate that. Thank you."

"Not at all." Connie finishes setting out seven black folders around the table and smiles at me. "Have you ever been to a reading before?"

"No. This is my first."

"Well, there's nothing to do but listen. Mr. Simpson will read out your father's wishes and will explain anything that is unclear. It's as simple as that."

Lloyd Simpson has been one of Da's lawyers since I was a kid. He's smart, efficient, and I've always liked him—even if I don't trust him one bit.

By his very position, he's spent decades ensuring that my father got what he wanted. He might be a nice guy, but his loyalty to a man like Matty McGuire is telling.

Mister Simpson sweeps into view of the camera and smiles at the screen. He's a distinguished-looking man with salt and pepper hair, tortoise-shell glasses, and an expensive suit. "It's wonderful to see you, Piper. I'm glad you could make it for the reading. You're looking as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you, Mister Simpson. Kind of you to say so."

I watch as my mother, Niall, Darcy, Brody, and Rory each take their seats. When Mr. Simpson sits and flips open the front of one of the black folders, I stare at the empty seat.

Who is supposed to be sitting there?

They knew I wasn't coming, so who gets that folder?

And then, he comes into view and takes a seat.

Billy Gravely.

Sean is standing out of view and I'm not sure what he sees in my expression, but his gaze hardens.

What's wrong? He mouths.

I write on a notepad and hold it up for him to see.

Billy's not dead. Why is he there?

There's no time to come up with an answer before Mister Simpson clears his throat. "All right. Let's get started, shall we?"

He picks up a stapled document and reads aloud. I, Matthew Terrance McGuire, being of sound mind and body…

I bark a laugh and then cover my outburst with a cough. "Sorry. Carry on."

I hit the button to mute myself and make eyes at Sean. "Sorry. The whole ‘sound mind' thing caught me off guard. I suppose the will wouldn't be valid if it started: I, Matthew McGuire, being fucking nuts…"

Brendan and Sean chuckle, and I go back to listening to Mr. Simpson. He's droning on, listing the assets and holdings of Da's companies and corporations.

And as the lawyer's deep baritone waffles on, my mother plays the part of the heartbroken widow and weeps into a wad of tissues.

All the times I've heard her screaming at my father and threatening to leave him, maim him, or even kill him, makes it hard for me to believe she's so broken up over his death.

"There is an exhaustive list of McGuire holdings in your packages, but if I read them all, we'll be ordering in dinner before I finish." Mr. Simpson adjusts his glasses and carries on. "Now to the allocations of assets. The house on Pleasant Street, five-hundred thousand dollars, and a monthly stipend of ten thousand dollars go to his beloved wife, Samantha McGuire."

My mother looks up as if she's confused.

"All facets of the McGuire family business will pass jointly into the hands of Niall Matthew McGuire and William Connor Gravely."

What? Da left half ownership of the McGuire business to Billy Gravely?

"Niall and Billy will assume joint ownership of all properties listed other than the family home and will run the business with equal rights. Mathew McGuire's living sons will assist in the running of the business to be eligible for their monthly stipend of twenty thousand a month."

A flicker of dizziness passes through my brain as I hear Mister Simpson roping Brody and Rory into the business.

So, if they don't join the business, they get nothing?

At that moment, I hate my father more than ever.

Mister Simpson keeps on talking and his words jumble in my head like popcorn in a popper. "There are also a list of bank accounts, trust funds, mortgages, stocks, bonds, vehicles, and real estate holdings that will be divvied up between the boys."

He turns to the screen and offers me a sad smile. "I'm sorry, dear. There is no mention of you receiving anything from the estate."

"That's more than fine, Mr. Simpson. I wouldn't want it even if it were offered."

Mister Simpson turns his attention to Niall. "You and Mr. Gravely will be given a detailed copy of everything when you leave. I'd like the two of you to make an appointment with Connie, to come in one day this week to go over all of it. There is too much involved in the estate to read it over once and presume you have a grasp on it."

Niall presses his palm on the folder in front of him and forces a tight smile. "I understand, Mister Simpson. We'll set an appointment before we leave."

Did Niall know Da's plan about partnering up with Billy Gravely? Given the anger in his eyes, I don't think so.

"And with that, the reading of the will is complete," Mr. Simpson says.

My mother gets to her feet and presses her hands against the table. "This is bullshit, Lloyd. Niall and Billy get the business and are supposed to run it together? Billy isn't part of this family. If anyone should be added as a co-owner with my sons, it should be me."

Mr. Simpson takes off his glasses and sets them on the folder before him. "It's not up to me, Samantha. Your husband gave strict instructions when we drafted the will. We went over the problem of Mister Gravely not being a McGuire, and Mattie assured me Billy was entitled."

My mother shifts her anger to Billy, smiling smugly on the opposite side of the table. "You did this, you snake."

Billy chuckles. "I can't help that he liked me more than you, Sam. Maybe you should've put out a little more."

There's a rush of bodies and the scramble knocks the camera free from wherever it was positioned. Over the next few minutes, I'm looking at shoes shuffling on the carpeted floor of Mr. Simpson's office and voices shouting as all hell breaks loose.

What a fucking mess.

But honestly, I'm glad I signed on, because seeing my mother lose her shit was too funny.

Payback is a bitch— bitch.

Sean

Gathered in the living room, the shock of what we just learned is still ringing in my ears. Mattie McGuire dropped a grenade in our laps—Niall and Billy Gravely will now steer the ship for South Dublin's operations.

I glance around at Tag, Piper, Laine, and my brothers, seeing a mix of skepticism and concern etched on their faces.

Piper looks particularly disturbed. "Niall holds no affection for Billy or the way he handles things. This will make things difficult for him and my brothers."

Bryan shifts forward in his seat. "It's crazy. Your mother got frozen out of the business after all these years by Mattie's side. Wow, she must be pissed."

Piper grunts and wraps her arms across her chest. "Women had no value in business in my father's mind. He made that very clear."

"Your father was wrong about that," Laine says. "I've dealt with misogynistic alpha-holes for the past decade, Piper. That kind of thinking is their shortcoming, not ours. It's a weakness I've enjoyed exploiting many times."

Tag's scowl softens when he looks at his fiancé. "I don't know how Niall feels, but Billy shared that sentiment with Mattie. Maybe it'll be something we'll be able to exploit in time."

Piper doesn't look convinced. "Niall isn't as brash as our father or Billy, but he was groomed by Da for a long time. He never questioned the way Da did things like Darcy did. But Billy Gravely? He's a wildcard, unpredictable and violent. The prospect of him having any significant power is terrifying."

Tag leans forward, his fingers steepled in front of him. "How Niall and Billy work together will dictate a lot going forward."

"It could work to our advantage," Brendan says. "If there's a power struggle and the two of them are locked down in a pissing match for control, they might implode."

"Billy won't let that happen." Piper rubs her arms as if warding off a chill. "Billy has never respected my brothers. Declan could get him to stand down, but he'll run right over Niall and Darcy. If they stand up to him, I wouldn't be surprised if he simply killed them to eliminate the conflict."

"Then let the implosion begin," Brendan says.

I throw him a scowl. "Brenny. They're still her brothers for fuck's sake. A little compassion would go a long way here."

Brenny's amusement dissolves, and he flashes Piper a look of apology. "My bad. Sorry."

I rub the back of my neck, feeling the weight of the weeks and months to come. With Billy Gravely at the helm, even partially, the fragile peace Tag's managed to maintain feels more tenuous than ever.

"Any way you look at it, it's a clusterfuck." I pull Piper against my chest, the warmth of her against me a balm I'm becoming addicted to. "With Billy in a position of power, things will get bloody. It seems Mad Mattie is screwing us over, even from the grave."

"Which was likely part of the reason he did it." Piper looks up at me. "I'm sorry."

I hug her closer and kiss the top of her head. "There's nothing for you to apologize for, Piper. None of this is on you. We'll figure it out. We always do."

The room falls silent, each of us lost in our thoughts, strategizing for what comes next.