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After I disconnect the call, we pull up to the entrance of Ryan Estate within minutes. Unlike any of the other syndicate members, the Ryan Estate is a restored 18th-century castle that sits at the peak of Killybegs. With a 185-acre panoramic view of the Dublin/Wicklow mountains, it’s the most sought-after piece of property on this side of the border.
For years, it sat idle, gathering dust as the ghosts of lifetimes past roamed the halls. Recently, Lorcan had the place cleaned and prepared, knowing one day soon all of this would belong to his daughter. The second Saoirse turns eighteen, all of this becomes hers. The only Ryan Heir who is eligible to run the Killybegs Syndicate. But first, she has to pass her trials. If she even makes it that far. My father is clearly desperate to keep his false throne, and tonight only solidifies how far he’s willing to go to keep the title he stole all those years ago.
Punching the entry code, the Ryan family crest splits in two as the two enormous wrought-iron gates separate, giving way to a sweeping avenue lined with hundreds of mature cherry blossom trees. Foot to the floor, the car accelerates forward, guiding us up the mountainside until finally, the Ryan Castle Estate comes into view. Gliding my car to the entrance, I press the handbrake button and climb out before rounding the car to the passenger side.
Finally, once I have the door open, I unbuckle Saoirse’s seatbelt and then slide my arms beneath Saoirse and lift her out. She stirs in my arms, her eyelashes flicking as she fights to stay asleep.
“Rohan?” Her voice is hoarse, strained from everything that has gone down tonight.
“I got you, love.” I comfort her, drawing her closer to my chest. “Can you wrap your arms around my neck so I can carry you inside?”
Without hesitation, she circles her arms around me, holding on as I climb the steep stone steps to the front door.
Finally, we get to the top and I set her on the deep-set concrete window ledge, and grip her face with my palms. “Hang tight. I need to open the door, okay?”
Her eyes soften, and it sets off a whole load of shit I don’t have the words to describe. “As much as I like this side of you, you can stop fussing so much. I’m a little battered, Rohan. But I’m not broken.”
I nod, wondering if I’m overcompensating because I feel guilty, or because I genuinely want to take care of her. Affection is foreign to me. For as long as I can recall, there has only been one person who has ever cared about me and what I need, and let’s just say Lorcan Reilly is not the hugs type. For all intents and purposes, he’s the only father figure I have.
Every year, he’d take off for a few weeks during the summer. Then, I found out he was spending those weeks with Liam on stupid fishing trips… And well, if I were to be transparent, that’s how mine and Liam’s rivalry began. I hated Liam for stealing the only person in the world who saw me as more than an heir. It was then I did everything in my power to be superior to him in every way. After a while, it grew into a competition, a game we’ve continued to play.
When I turned sixteen, Lorcan finally told me the real reason behind those trips — he was going to see his daughter, and because he couldn’t risk Gabriel finding out that he was Saoirse’s father, he concealed those trips under the disguise of a bonding trip with his only godson, Liam.
Eventually, when my hate for my father was undeniable, Lorcan trusted me with his biggest secret, and in return, he told me story after story about his little princess who would one day return to Killybegs and claim her title as Queen. For two years, I helped him watch her from afar, until one day, my father announced he’d finally found them.
After that meeting, Lorcan and I put a plan together, one that led us to this very moment.
Pulling my keys from my pocket, I retrieve the one for the electronic keypad and open it before punching in the code. The door unlatches, and I push it open. My neck cranes as I peer over my shoulder, and hold out my hand for Saoirse. She places her hand in mine and I pull her to her feet. “Are you ready?”
Her brow raises. “Ready for what?”
“Your return to home.”
With one hand circling her waist and the other in my hand, her mouth drops open. “What? I thought…Is this not your house?”
A small laugh bubbles past my lips at her wide eyes as she glances at the stone-faced castle. Turning on my heel, I face her fully, then raise her hand. “Hold out your hand.” Finally, I drop the keys into her open palm. “What’s a queen without a throne? Welcome home, love.”
