Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

THOMAS

W ith all the ladies more focused on Mary Quinn and making sure that her scandal did not taint the other boards she served on, the meeting was postponed for a few days.

All the women had left within fifteen to twenty minutes of Mary Quinn being ostracized.

That gave me just enough time.

I called the bank branch where Mary Quinn kept her safe deposit box and asked if there was an available appointment to rent or purchase one. The manager was in that day and agreed to see me within an hour. Introducing myself as Father Thomas Manwarring got me VIP treatment. Whether it was being a member of the clergy, or my last name, I wasn’t sure and really didn’t care. The reason I got the VIP treatment was not important as long as I got the VIP treatment.

When I arrived at the bank, the general manager himself was there to greet me with a handshake and see to my safe deposit box needs.

“And what size box are you going to be needing, Father?” the manager asked.

“If I’m being honest, size is less important. The things I have to store are rather small, but they are sentimental. I wonder if box 627 is available. The number is from my favorite Biblical quote.”

Curiously enough, that wasn’t a lie. Of course, it was my favorite for all the wrong reasons. Call me old-fashioned, but I still believed in hating one’s enemies.

Plus, I knew Mary Quinn’s box was number 628, which meant I needed a box as close to that as possible.

“I can check, though you should know that is a larger box and requires a much larger fee.”

“That is perfectly acceptable. I am more than willing to pay whatever is required. I may be a member of the clergy, but I am also a Manwarring, and I believe my family has significant assets with this bank.”

“Oh… of course, just give me a moment and I will see what I can do.” The bank manager turned to his computer and quickly started typing away. I had to focus on calming my body. The urge to tap my foot, or twiddle my thumbs, was ever present as the excitement coursed through my veins.

What did Mary Quinn store in that box?

I knew what I hoped to find, but the possibilities were endless. Especially since the manager had said the box next to hers would be a larger one. Did that mean Mary Quinn had a massive deposit box that held all her secrets? What would I find there? How many skeletons did she store in First National Bank’s vaults?

“Good news. It looks like that box is available. If you’d like to follow me, I can let you into the vault to store your items.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving the bank manager a genuine smile.

He led me to the back, and I still had to focus to control my excitement. We opened the box together, and he left his manager key in the lock with the key for my new box.

“I am so sorry. Would it be possible to have a little privacy as I store my items in the box?”

“Of course,” the manager said. “I’ll have to lock the door when I leave, but I will stay right outside. When you’re done, just tap on it and I will let you out.”

“Perfect.”

As soon as he was gone, I made a show of getting into the box, and then turned my back to block the camera just to be on the safe side, even though I knew for client privacy the cameras did not focus in on the contents, just the general movements inside the vault. I made sure not to move my body, so it looked like I was still in my box, but my hand reached over and unlocked Mary Quinn’s safe deposit box.

Hers was a gigantic box about the size of a filing cabinet drawer. When I opened it, I was in awe of my good fortune.

I still didn’t believe God was on my side, but I believed he was definitely against Mary Quinn.

The box held what looked like at least several hundred-million-dollars’ worth of bonds, and file folders labeled with the names of several of the more powerful families. Picking up the one with my family’s name on it, I opened it to see several pictures of my father fucking or getting head by different women. I could have lived my entire life without seeing that. Behind that, there were bank statements.

Several showed direct ties to the Irish mafia. There were other statements showing links between our family and other organized crime, ones that would really piss off the Irish. There were even secrets in this file about my family that I did not know about. I knew we didn’t come from the old money my father liked to say we did. I knew we had Irish mafia ties. Hell, I used them myself. But I didn’t know about the insurance fraud, the tax fraud, and the surprising amount of stolen whisky barrels that my father just simply slapped our labels on and sold. Then there was evidence of the Irish using our trucks to ship things other than our whisky.

She really had enough here to bring down my entire family. Well, she used to. I slid that file and every other file that she had into my safe deposit box, then I added all the bonds, thinking that Mary Quinn had enough money.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with them yet, but I knew she didn’t need them. Then I found a pile of envelopes, all of them addressed to my Rose.

It took me a minute to realize what I was looking at. They were acceptance letters to some of the best art programs in the country, and some that were international. She had been accepted into all of them, and Mary Quinn had hidden that from her. But why?

Mary Quinn was absolutely the kind of woman who would see her daughter’s success as her own victory, so why would she want to stop her daughter from succeeding?

The answer entered my head just as quickly as the question had.

Control.

If Rose had gone to any of these programs outside of New York City, she would live on her own. She would get to experience life on her own without her mother hovering over her every single move. If Rose lived outside of New York City, she would be out of Mary Quinn’s grasp. That was clearly something she was not willing to allow.

Looking at these letters, one after another, all acceptances to these amazing world-renowned art programs, several of which practically begged her to join, had rage building in my core.

It was the same rage that grew inside me when I saw the cuts and bruises on Rose’s face, the same rage that built in me when I placed ice packs on her hand to lower the swelling.

I understood why I felt the way I did when Rose’s mother struck her. It was because Rose was mine. I was the only one allowed to inflict any kind of pain on her. I’d convinced myself it wasn’t due to caring for her or because of any type of affection for her. That would be disastrous to my plans.

It was possessiveness. Pure and simple.

So why was I just as angry at seeing that Mary Quinn had taken opportunities away from her? I should have been happy that Mary Quinn had done that. If she hadn’t, Rose wouldn’t have been here for me to control, for me to use to reach my goals.

So why the hell did this bother me now?

Why was I so angry that Mary Quinn had kept Rose in her place? I was sure she had some plans for Rose that required her to be in New York. She was probably intending to marry her off to someone to make a good match, or maybe she just wanted to keep Rose under her thumb. None of that should have bothered me. She had no pending nuptials. I had gotten Rose to agree to come to me anytime her mother raised a hand to her. So why did I find these hidden letters so infuriating?

Because I did care about her. The words echoed through my mind, and I dismissed them. I cared for no one. I did not feel affection, I would not feel love. The only emotions I could experience since the lies of a manipulative harpy banished me all those years ago were anger, fury, rage, and the anticipation of the sweet satisfaction of my victory that was waiting for me when I destroyed that woman.

There was no way I felt anything other than disdain for any member of that bitch’s family.

I looked down at the two safe deposit boxes and decided that I would not wait on any of this. I cleared out Mary Quinn’s safe deposit box and tucked everything into my satchel before closing and locking her box again. Then I took the bonds and files that I had transferred to my safe deposit box and added them to my satchel.

The blackmail material she had on every single family was now in my possession. Her wealth, everything that wasn’t tied to her husband’s name, was now in my possession.

Even if she didn’t know it yet, Mary Quinn had lost her social standing, lost the blackmail power that she had, and lost her hidden wealth.

The first, second, and third pillars of Mary Quinn’s power had toppled.

Soon, she was going to feel the world closing around her.

That was when I was going to topple the last pillar. I was going to use Rose and take away Mary Quinn’s family.

I was going to do what my father and many, many other men couldn’t do. I was going to destroy her.

As soon as I left the bank, I noticed that the air smelled sweeter. The world seemed a brighter and better place, so I walked back to the church.

The entire time, I hummed a happy little song as I enjoyed the new pep in my step.

Ding dong, the witch was dead.