20. Cian

“No,”I say to Robert as I walk into the house before he even has a chance to say anything. “I’m not doing this now.”

“Tough fucking shit,” he growls, standing up from my armchair. “Dad died, was executed, yesterday. We are doing this.”

“I’ve got bigger shit to deal with.” Thinking of Victoria’s confessions rips at my insides. I want so desperately for her to tell me who it is so I can eviscerate them and burn them from the inside out with acid before I decimate their corpse and then burn it until there is nothing left but ash.

“What could possibly be bigger than this?” he roars. “Jesus, Cian. Get it together. You are the head of this fucking family now. If you want to continue that way, I’d suggest you get your head out of your ass and lead.”

Fury boils up inside me, already too close to the surface. In two strides, I’m in front of him, and I slam my younger brother against the wall, rattling his bones. “Is that a fucking threat, you little shit?”

“No,” Robert spits out, defiance etched in every line of his face, even as my fingers dig tighter into his shirt. “It’s the fucking truth.” He shoves me back, and I let him. I’m not in the mood to brawl with my brother, not when Victoria’s shadow looms over every thought.

The room is silent. An unspoken truce hangs in the air. Robert fixes his shirt, then locks eyes with me. “We need to sort this shit out. Everyone is left wondering what the fuck is going on. Who are you naming as your enforcer, your second-in-command, your inner fucking circle? This isn’t just about me, this is about everyone.”

I push past the anger, past the emptiness of losing a father who was more a monster than a man. “Fine,” I concede. “But first, I need to handle something.” I turn to the door and then stop. “You coming?”

He leaps forward in an instant, not even questioning this mystery mission.

Outside, we climb into the Jeep, freezing to fucking death with no coat on because when Victoria told me five minutes, I didn’t have time to grab one. When I set off, I turn the heater up as Robert hunches further into his coat. “Where are we going?”

“Wait and see.”

He huffs but doesn’t say anything else as I head out of the university town and head for the main road.

Ten minutes later, I pull up onto a car park.

Robert looks up from his phone as I cut the engine. He snickers and gives me a triumphant stare. “I knew it! I knew you fucking kept this fucking trash heap ride to piss him off.”

Smirking, I climb out and head into the Porsche dealership to make these cunts an offer they can’t refuse.

The salesman looks up and gives me a shocked stare, standing there in just my worn black jeans and a black tee that is all crumpled and maybe a bit ripped. “Erm,” he starts, standing up and walking towards me warily. “I think you’re in the wrong place.”

“I’m driving off in one of these motherfucking cars in ten minutes one way or another,” I say, pulling out Clyde with one hand and my black AMEX with the other, giving the salesman a violent glare that sends most men into a meltdown. This sod is no different.

His eyes widen, but he catches himself. Smart lad. Doesn’t want to show he’s shitting his pants. “Right this way,” he stammers, motioning toward the sleek machines glinting under showroom lights.

Robert chuckles behind me, probably picturing how this is going to play out. I slide into the driver’s seat of the newest model, feeling like a fish out of water. I don’t actually give a fuck about my wheels. If it gets me from A to B, that’s all I care about. But I suppose, this way, I can get there quicker.

“It’ll do. Get the paperwork started.” I hand him the card. He has been amenable, after all.

As he hurries off, Robert leans against the car, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re sitting in three hundred grand worth of machinery,” he purrs almost reverently. “You’re really doing this?”

“Card has a half a mil limit, so why the fuck not?” However, I flash him a grin because I know exactly what he means. Dad always hated Porsche—said they were for wankers and pretenders. He was a Ferrari man, himself.

“It’s not just about getting at him,” I lie smoothly. “It’s fitting for a head of the family, yeah?”

He snorts and checks his phone again, probably keeping tabs on his little crew over at Castle University, where the pompous go to play at being hardcore. But the thing with Robert is that he may be a pain in the ass, but he knows the game well.

The salesman returns with my card and the paperwork—fast and accurate—and I sign without reading. Who has time for details? I toss him the keys to the Jeep as a trade-in bonus and wait for them to unlock the glass front doors so I can drive this penis-mobile out of here with a satisfied smirk plastered on my face. Fuck knows what he plans to tell his boss about why a car left the showroom in under five minutes, but that’s not my fucking problem.

I start the engine, and that purr is something else. Now, I can admit, it’s pretty fucking sweet. The thrill of power courses through me as I steer it out of the dealership. Robert’s still shaking his head, a mix of disbelief and respect in his eyes.

The drive back is silent, filled with my thoughts churning like the engine beneath us. Victoria’s situation is like a thorn in my side; every time I think about it, the wound gets deeper. And then there’s the Luke issue. He’s been too quiet lately. A man like him doesn’t go silent unless he’s planning or plotting, and that worries me. If his attraction to Victoria is more than just a passing lust, we’re going to have a massive fucking problem on our hands. I’ve been letting it play out, but his showing up at her house to protect her from that box yesterday was a move in the wrong direction for him.

As we roll back into uni territory, Robert breaks the silence. “So, meeting later?”

“Yeah, but here. I’m not fucking about back at Dad’s estate. It’s not convenient for me, and I need to be here.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, asshole. You say when and where, and everyone will show.”

Giving him a wry smile, I pull up back at home. “Guess that will take some getting used to.”

A heavy silence descends, and I give him the olive branch I know he’s waiting for. “You know you’re my second, right?”

His gaze locks on mine, and the relief that floods it almost makes me feel a bit sorry for him. “Thanks, Cian,” he croaks.

I punch him on the arm and then sigh. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

His gaze hardens for a fraction of a second, but then he shakes his head. “I know shit was bad between you two, but he was still your father, This is still your loss as well.”

“Nah. Good riddance.”

Climbing out of the low-slung car, I watch Robert get into his parked-up SUV and drive off. I kick open the front door and step inside, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders like a fucking boulder. Everything feels different now, thick with expectation and danger. I’ve got plans to make and a family business to run without letting it all go to shit.

First things first, though, I head upstairs to change out of these crumpled clothes into something more befitting the new head of the family. Glaring at the black suit shoved way off to the side of my wardrobe, I pull it out and glare at it. Stripping off, I shave, shower and pull on a black shirt before the suit pants. I look sharp. Too much like Oisin, but fuck it. It’s part of the game, a uniform, just like everything else. Grabbing my phone, I start to send out texts, calling the entire family here after dark to discuss the way forward. Whichever way that is, it includes finding out exactly who hurt Victoria and making them pay in blood.