31. Cian

It's late,but not too late, that I won't find the man I'm looking for. Pulling out my phone, I fire off a quick text to Robert: Meet at the townhouse, shithead. Need to talk.

I don't wait for his reply. He will come.

Crossing campus, I pause momentarily to breathe in the cold night air before walking to the Admin Building. It takes on an almost haunting beauty in the dark, with the spotlights lighting up the spires and casting shadows across the quad. I enter the building by punching in the passcode to the electronic lock, thanking Luke for hacking his way into the Security on our first week here. It has never changed, but then there has never been cause to change it.

Taking the stairs, I take them two at a time and walk down the first-floor corridor to the Vice-Chancellor's office.

I knock twice on the open door and stride in without waiting for a reply.

Vice-Chancellor Harris looks up with a frown. "Cian. It's outside of office hours."

"Yeah, I know, but this is the kind of announcement that can't wait."

He sits back in his chair, his eyes shrewd. "Oh?"

He doesn't ask me to sit, so I take the chair opposite him anyway, pulling out Clyde to fiddle with. He eyes it nervously, but it's not the knife he should be worried about.

"There is a meeting tomorrow with the board."

"There is."

"You are going to make a move against Chairman Wilson to have him removed from his office to be replaced by me."

He blinks once and then smirks. "And what makes you think I'll do that?"

Narrowing my eyes, I hesitate to put him on the back foot, but then pull out my phone and unlock it, flicking through the photos. "What makes me think I'll do that? Perhaps this photo of Chancellor Linford balls deep in your ass? That's what makes me think that. I'm pretty sure your wife, one of this institution's biggest benefactors, and whose multi-millions keep you in those fancy suits and expensive cars, would have a lot to say about this. Can you say prenup, Vice-Chancellor?"

He pales as I turn the phone around to show him I'm not bluffing. He licks his lips, knowing his wife will kick him out for being a cheating bastard quicker than you can say divorce lawyer.

But he wasn't born yesterday, so I twist the knife a bit more. "I mean, it looks dodgy as fuck, cheating aside, doesn't it? Linford gave you this job, so was it only because you're fucking and passed over a perfectly qualified candidate? Think of the professional scandal?"

"Your father made sure Linford gave me this position. We had a deal," he grits out.

"Yeah, well, Dad's dead and deals change." I sit back and tap my phone screen before putting it away. "So, are you going to make a motion for Wilson to be removed?"

"Even if I did, the board won't just do it because I asked them to."

"True, that's why I've just emailed you evidence that will incite his removal. I just need you to make sure the board gets it."

"And you want to take his place? How do I even begin to convince them? You are a student here."

"Not anymore. I handed in my de-registration forms earlier. They have already been processed. You see, with Oisin dead, I'm the head of the Gannon family in this sector now, and BlackBriar is my little empire. There will be one name on the ballot to take over as Chairman, and that's mine. But you leave that part to me."

"If I do this, you swear you won't tell my wife?"

"On my life. I'm not an unreasonable man, Tony. This is quid pro quo, yeah?"

Vice-Chancellor Harris stares at me, the weight of his predicament settling in like a stone in water. He knows he's got no choice. Finally, he nods, a reluctant acceptance.

"Fine," he mutters. "I'll do it."

"Good man," I say, standing up and sheathing Clyde. "I knew you'd see things my way."

As I leave the office, I barely register the cold this time. There's a chill in the air, sure, but it's nothing compared to the ice running through my veins. BlackBriar belongs to me now in ways that no one could have anticipated. It's thrilling to know I hold all of this in my hands now.

By the time I get back to the townhouse, Robert is already waiting outside, leaning up against his SUV. "What's up, asshole?"

"That was quick," I murmur. "Well done, shithead."

"Fuck you. What is this about?"

"Come inside."

I lead him into the townhouse and into the living room, where we can have some privacy for this conversation. "Sit," I mutter.

He takes the chair, so I slump onto the couch.

"Spit it out," he grumbles. "I have a life to get back to."

"Nineteen years ago, Dad had an affair," I say, shocking him straight away. "He had a secret daughter. Her name is Sorcha."

"Nineteen years ago?" he gulps, and then his eyes go hard. He asks the question I knew he would: "Is she older or younger than me?"

"Not sure?—"

"She was born 25th December," Victoria calls out from the entrance hall, heard but not seen.

I smirk. "Thanks, killer." Turning back to Robert, he looks like he is about to be sick.

"So she's older than me. By two weeks."

"Fuck."

He slumps back into his seat. "How do you know? Is she lying? Have you tested her?"

"Uhm, don't mind me," Victoria says as she slips into the living room with a mug in a clear plastic zip lock bag. "She drank from this."

"Look at you being all sleuth-y," I murmur, grinning at her.

She grins back and leaves us alone again.

"Test it if you need to, but I believe she is our half-sister."

"That fucking prick," Robert spits out.

"That's what I've been telling you all along." His gaze shoots to mine. "No, I didn't know about this all along. Found out a few days ago."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know," I lie.

"What does she want? A piece of the Gannon pie?"

I shake my head. "No, she wants her own power for her mother's side. It's fine. She can do whatever the fuck she wants."

"What if she decides later on that being a Gannon is easier than being a…" He waves his hand about.

"Mullen."

"Mullen." He says the word slowly. "What then?"

"Then we accept her into our family, dickhead."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Family first."

"Yeah." He looks utterly defeated as his rose-tinted glasses slip, and he sees our dad for the asshole he was.

"Speaking of family. Victoria is now my wife."

He sits up straighter. "Oh? Since when? Why didn't I get an invite to the wedding douchebag?"

I snicker. "The wedding wasn't exactly conventional."

"So it's not legal?" He frowns.

"Ever heard of a civil partnership?"

He nods. "Dad would flip his lid."

"Good thing he's not here then."

Robert snickers and shakes his head. "She's a badass woman. I can see her being good for you."

"Aww," Victoria mutters from the entrance hall, still eavesdropping but doing a shit job of pretending she isn't there.

Robert rolls his eyes and grins. "Well, I guess new family all around then."

"You mean you are accepting of Sorcha?"

"Accepting is a strong word. I'll tolerate her until she proves herself," Robert says, his tone hardening. "But if she tries to fuck with us…"

"Relax. She's not interested in our side of the family. Besides, you'll have plenty of time to test her mettle."

Victoria slips back into the room, holding two glasses of whisky this time. She hands one to me and then slides the other across the coffee table to Robert.

"Thanks," he mutters, eyeing her curiously. "Two sisters in one day. Lucky fella. Sláinte."

Snickering, I raise my glass. "Sláinte." I take a sip, feeling the burn slide down my throat.

"So, what's next on your devious agenda, brother?" Robert asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"For now, we wait," I reply. But it's fine. We've got all the time in the world ,and I can't wait to spend it with my gorgeous killer.